Birds fly away
Our youngest son has been grappling with a question that has occupied his mind for sometime. He is a seventh grader and next year he has to consider where he would like to apply to high school. For most kids it is a relatively simple choice-- either they move almost seamlessly from the local public middle school to the local public high school or they are in the private day school track. The later path involves much more nail biting as gaining admission to a private school has become steadily more competitive with each passing year. The number of applicants, at least in Boston, for the number of seats available, while not, thank God, at Ivy League ratios,still creates quite a daunting challenge. However, for some soon-to-be-rising eight graders the question poses yet a further complication. Does he or she want to try and go to boarding school or stay home and attend a local day school?
For our eldest two, the question was actually quite simple. Our older son had quite special needs--a conservatory level musical education but without sacrificing academic excellence. That meant that Boston day schools were out--and in his case, so were American boarding schools as well. Thus, at thirteen he found himself on the other side of the Atlantic at an English public school. His parents may have been more than a bit nervous but he had no doubts about the choice and, indeed, years later everyone considers the decision (including his very disapproving grandparents) to have been among the most best in his young life. Our daughter wanted to be like her older brother but unlike crossing the ocean as he had done, she happily encamped across the Massachusetts/New Hampshire boarder. I recall with very mixed feelings driving her back for her Lower (sophomore) year and hearing her whisper to herself as we crossed the Exeter town line, "Oh, good, I'm home...". Again, like her brother, she has thrived in ways we could never have thought possible. Her years at boarding school have been a time of extraordinary growth.
But now our youngest is facing the same question. While he is a very clever boy, his needs do not require an Eton and he doesn't have the passionate desire to grow up which prompted his sister to Exeter. However, he has it in his mind watching his siblings that going to boarding school is what someone does. My wife and I have been trying to be as neutral as we can. We know how much the elder two have benefited from their boarding experience and we wouldn't ever want to deny that to him. Yet....Yet... he is the youngest. He has always been so sweet and gentle. We feel like we don't want to give up watching at least one of the children go through the throes of adolescence under our roof. We don't feel ready to be "empty nesters". But those feelings are about what is best for us, not him. We have been trying our best not to influence him-- partially because we do believe that it has to be his decision either way, and partially, well, we are confused ourselves.
For months we could tell that he was wrestling within himself which way he should go. His thoughts were largely kept inside, but every once in a while a shadow of the turmoil would be visible. If we paid close attention, we could gain some small insight into his thinking. It would never be posed as direct question-- but a hint here and there--which if pieced together would be enough for us to recognize that the issue was occupying his thoughts.
Recently we could tell that he was more at peace with himself--he had made a decision. Again, in his usual style, the decision wasn't either announced with trumpets nor was he going to ask our permission to go in one direction or the other. Instead, it came out indirectly: "You know," he stated from the passenger seat on a recent drive to his school in the morning, "if I was to go to Exeter, you and mom wouldn't have to get up and drive me every day." That was true enough, I responded, "and we would come up all the time, the way we have done with your sister, if you were to go there." There was a deep quiet from him--nothing more. Day or two later another "You know" came out on the drive to fencing class--"With all the Latin I have have been studying I could take Greek and get a Classical Diploma-- they get to wear those great laurel wreaths and Emma told me that they march at the head of the graduation parade." That is also correct, but I pointed out, a number of day schools in Boston have both Latin and Greek as well. "It's not the same," he retorted.
There it is. He has made up his mind. He is still a bit afraid to say it aloud, but I'm not exactly certain if he is more afraid of saying it to us or to himself. He knows, as he has amazing emotional sensitivity, that we will be both happy and sad--that on the day we drop him off it will be with a complex mixture of pride and pain--for both him and for us. But he is at peace with his decision.
Of course, I had to throw a spanner in the works. It was my turn to start off with his "You know". "You have to get admitted. Maybe Exeter won't take you." That gave him pause.
"Huh," he said, "I hadn't thought of that."
For our eldest two, the question was actually quite simple. Our older son had quite special needs--a conservatory level musical education but without sacrificing academic excellence. That meant that Boston day schools were out--and in his case, so were American boarding schools as well. Thus, at thirteen he found himself on the other side of the Atlantic at an English public school. His parents may have been more than a bit nervous but he had no doubts about the choice and, indeed, years later everyone considers the decision (including his very disapproving grandparents) to have been among the most best in his young life. Our daughter wanted to be like her older brother but unlike crossing the ocean as he had done, she happily encamped across the Massachusetts/New Hampshire boarder. I recall with very mixed feelings driving her back for her Lower (sophomore) year and hearing her whisper to herself as we crossed the Exeter town line, "Oh, good, I'm home...". Again, like her brother, she has thrived in ways we could never have thought possible. Her years at boarding school have been a time of extraordinary growth.
But now our youngest is facing the same question. While he is a very clever boy, his needs do not require an Eton and he doesn't have the passionate desire to grow up which prompted his sister to Exeter. However, he has it in his mind watching his siblings that going to boarding school is what someone does. My wife and I have been trying to be as neutral as we can. We know how much the elder two have benefited from their boarding experience and we wouldn't ever want to deny that to him. Yet....Yet... he is the youngest. He has always been so sweet and gentle. We feel like we don't want to give up watching at least one of the children go through the throes of adolescence under our roof. We don't feel ready to be "empty nesters". But those feelings are about what is best for us, not him. We have been trying our best not to influence him-- partially because we do believe that it has to be his decision either way, and partially, well, we are confused ourselves.
For months we could tell that he was wrestling within himself which way he should go. His thoughts were largely kept inside, but every once in a while a shadow of the turmoil would be visible. If we paid close attention, we could gain some small insight into his thinking. It would never be posed as direct question-- but a hint here and there--which if pieced together would be enough for us to recognize that the issue was occupying his thoughts.
Recently we could tell that he was more at peace with himself--he had made a decision. Again, in his usual style, the decision wasn't either announced with trumpets nor was he going to ask our permission to go in one direction or the other. Instead, it came out indirectly: "You know," he stated from the passenger seat on a recent drive to his school in the morning, "if I was to go to Exeter, you and mom wouldn't have to get up and drive me every day." That was true enough, I responded, "and we would come up all the time, the way we have done with your sister, if you were to go there." There was a deep quiet from him--nothing more. Day or two later another "You know" came out on the drive to fencing class--"With all the Latin I have have been studying I could take Greek and get a Classical Diploma-- they get to wear those great laurel wreaths and Emma told me that they march at the head of the graduation parade." That is also correct, but I pointed out, a number of day schools in Boston have both Latin and Greek as well. "It's not the same," he retorted.
There it is. He has made up his mind. He is still a bit afraid to say it aloud, but I'm not exactly certain if he is more afraid of saying it to us or to himself. He knows, as he has amazing emotional sensitivity, that we will be both happy and sad--that on the day we drop him off it will be with a complex mixture of pride and pain--for both him and for us. But he is at peace with his decision.
Of course, I had to throw a spanner in the works. It was my turn to start off with his "You know". "You have to get admitted. Maybe Exeter won't take you." That gave him pause.
"Huh," he said, "I hadn't thought of that."