For a kid like me, raised in West Virginia, boarding school represented the best opportunity to receive an education comparable to what children from affluent areas like Greenwich or Manhattan often take for granted. My mom, always aware of the widening gap in income equality during the 1980s, understood that getting into a prestigious college was essential for us to maintain a place in the middle class. She worried that the local high schools wouldn’t offer the rigorous college prep courses and well-connected admissions counselors that can significantly enhance the chances of acceptance into top universities. So, off I went, equipped with a trunk of hand-sewn clothes crafted by my mother and grandmother from old Vogue patterns they considered “preppy.”
Of course, what my grandmother thought would be fashionable among wealthy New England girls was far from accurate. My plaid skirts and knee-high socks were a stark contrast to my classmates’ Laura Ashley dresses and bohemian tops. I called home pleading for a wardrobe update, but that was out of the question; we barely scraped together enough for the first set of clothes. I persevered through that first year, feeling isolated and out of place.
Yet, despite the challenges, the experience was enriching in many ways. Boarding school offered me a glimpse into a world vastly different from my small-town upbringing, and I gradually learned to feel at home on the Upper East Side—though I ultimately accepted that I was simply a misfit who would never fully fit in. My time there was akin to a four-year anthropological study on a group that wields a significant amount of influence over the nation’s wealth and politics. This perspective was invaluable, enhancing my understanding of class structures in America, something my homogenous hometown would never have offered. It also made me more conscious of privilege—both my own and that of others.
Despite the wealth surrounding me, I formed friendships that have lasted a lifetime. I was fortunate enough to receive a full scholarship to an excellent college, an opportunity I might not have had if I had stayed in West Virginia.
But when it comes to my own children? Absolutely not. My mother aimed to change our circumstances, much like families who send their kids to a new land in search of a brighter future. The process was painful, but I accepted that the discomfort was worthwhile. Given the choice, if local educational opportunities match or exceed those of boarding schools, my boys will remain at home. Adolescents still need their parents. They need daily guidance from Mom, both in the trivial and significant aspects of life; they need Dad’s watchful eye during school pick-up for clues into their day-to-day struggles. They deserve a nurturing home environment free from the pressures of adolescence, a sanctuary where they can feel safe and loved.
Moreover, they need to learn practical skills, like cooking, budgeting, and housekeeping—lessons I missed as a teenager but that many others with more active parental involvement likely received. (Thank goodness for the Internet! For all you boarding school alumni: dab things with Clorox wipes, and braising is a fool-proof technique. A simple budget can be managed through an Excel file.)
And if I’m being honest, I’m not ready to part with my kids four years earlier than necessary. My husband, who lived at home until graduate school, can’t comprehend the concept of boarding school. “You’d have to pay how much for them to be influenced by a Kennedy?” he jokes. He also questions the moral integrity of private-school kids, expressing concern about associating with those he views as having dubious values. “I don’t want them mingling with kids from families who might be up to no good,” he muses, as if all their classmates were the offspring of corrupt tycoons and unethical financiers.
“No high school is free of difficult personalities,” I remind him. He just shrugs.
Our primary worry is that, in this country, quality education often comes with a hefty price tag, and we don’t exactly fit the wealthy mold. This might require some creative solutions. Well, there’s always the option of homeschooling.
This article was originally published on March 19, 2015.
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Summary
The author reflects on their personal journey through boarding school and the lessons learned about privilege and class structures in America. While they recognize the benefits of that experience, they adamantly oppose sending their own children to boarding school. They emphasize the importance of parental guidance and the practical skills that must be taught at home. The piece also touches on the financial and moral considerations families face when seeking quality education.
Keyphrase: Boarding school considerations
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