For someone like me, hailing from the hills of West Virginia, boarding school represented a unique opportunity for the kind of education that children in affluent areas like Greenwich or the Upper East Side often take for granted. My mom, a keen observer of the income disparity prevalent in the 1980s, understood that getting into a prestigious college was my pathway to achieving and maintaining a middle-class life. She worried that the local high schools wouldn’t offer the college preparatory courses and well-connected admissions counselors that could help secure college acceptance. Thus, off I went, armed with a trunk filled with handmade outfits crafted by my mother and grandmother from vintage Vogue patterns, which they deemed “preppy.”
Naturally, what my grandmother thought would appeal to wealthy New England girls was quite off the mark. My plaid skirts and knee-high socks felt completely out of place among my classmates’ Laura Ashley dresses and eclectic Indian-print tees. I often called home, pleading with my mother for a new wardrobe, but that was out of the question—our finances barely stretched for the initial set of clothes, let alone a second. So, I made do with what I had and trudged through my first year, feeling isolated and awkward.
Yet, despite the initial challenges, it turned out to be a valuable experience. The community was drastically different from my small-town upbringing, and I eventually grew comfortable navigating both the Upper East Side and Appalachian culture. It was almost like participating in a four-year anthropological study on a social group that wields significant influence over the country’s wealth and politics. This insight was eye-opening, highlighting America’s class structures in a way that being in my homogeneous hometown never could. It heightened my awareness of privilege—both mine and that of others.
And, like all kids, even those from privileged backgrounds, I formed friendships that have lasted into adulthood. I earned a scholarship to an excellent college, a feat that I might not have achieved had I remained in my hometown.
However, when it comes to my own children, I wouldn’t choose boarding school. My mother aimed to change our circumstances, much like families who sent their children to the New World seeking better lives. The process was painful, but I recognized that it was worthwhile. Still, given the option of equally good educational opportunities closer to home, I want my boys to stay here. Teenagers need their parents. They require daily support from Mom on both significant and trivial matters; they need Dad to read their expressions at school pick-up for any hints about their day’s challenges. They deserve a nurturing environment that offers solace from the trials of adolescence.
Additionally, they need to learn practical life skills—housekeeping, cooking, and budgeting—that I lacked as a teenager. I imagine other young people with more parental guidance acquire these abilities more easily. (Thank goodness for the Internet! For any boarding school alumni reading this: Clorox wipes are the way to go. Braising? Foolproof. A simple budget? Just an Excel file away.)
And, on a personal note, I’m not ready to send my kids away four years earlier than necessary. My husband, who lived at home until he went to graduate school, can’t wrap his head around the idea of boarding school. “We’d pay how much so they can be influenced by a Kennedy?” he quips.
He’s also wary of the moral character of private school students. “I’m not sure I want them mingling with kids who have those values,” he asserts, as if all their peers are the offspring of unscrupulous financiers.
I remind him, “No high school is free from difficult kids.” He just shrugs.
What concerns us is the current educational landscape in America, where a good education often requires wealth or connections, and we find ourselves lacking in both. This situation could lead to some scrambling on our part.
Well, there’s always homeschooling as an option.
In summary, while my boarding school experience was transformative, I feel that my children will benefit more from staying at home, where they can receive daily guidance and learn essential life skills. It’s essential to balance educational opportunities with the nurturing environment that a home provides.