“And the final outcome of education, I suppose we’d say, is a single newly finished person, who is either good or the opposite.”
Plato, The Republic
Two and half years ago I wrote a piece “When a Child Leaves Home,” when my son left for boarding school. In it I shared a few of my wife’s and my thoughts in answer to the question—which we were already asking ourselves, and were also asked by others —How could we send our son away to boarding school? It never, by the way, became any easier, for him or for us, to say goodbye.
We have just returned from a weekend spent at his graduation in Pennsylvania, and I thought I would share, through a newly retrospective glance, two things I have learned from this whole experience. What my son has learned I am not now, and perhaps never will be, in a position to relate.
The first thing is something I should have learned long ago, namely, how I need to be more careful and nuanced in my judgments. How many times had I thought that I would never willingly send a child away to school, rendering therein at least an implicit condemnation of those who had?
Let me try to be clear: how we educate our children is a matter of the very first importance, a matter worthy of unceasing and careful reflection. And there are certain basic principles about education, knowable through the natural light of reason, by experience, or through the teachings of venerable custom, or all of these, which can and should form the basis for our deliberation. But this said, there is still wide room in how those principles should be best applied in the concrete circumstances of life.
Assertions, for instance, that home-schooling is always better or sending a child to an institution is always better are both patently wrong. Not that ‘all is relative’ in choosing the means of education. But in reality much is relative: relative to, for instance, the concrete dispositions of parents, siblings, and the individual child, as well certainly the character of the institutions that are available.
Regarding schooling outside the home there is a significant difference between day schools and boarding schools. This brings me to my next point.
The second thing I have learned is something about the limitations of what can be achieved in even an intentional household. This was quite an eye opener for someone who is convinced that as a rule we need to re-focus our attention and intention within our households, reclaiming for our homes much that has been stripped from us. This remains a principle for me.
Both my heart and my head are rather full on this point, and this short reflection is not the venue for a fuller consideration of it. Here I will simply share something that happened this past Friday at the last communal lunch of my son’s high school life. This is rather intimate, and I share it very briefly, with my son’s permission. It will be obvious how this pertains to my point, as I have experienced it.
By tradition at this lunch the rugby coach passes out jerseys with the number of the position that players have achieved on the school team. For this school, one should understand, rugby stands as one key way of uniting the boys by bonds of comradery and common trial and effort. Suffice to say, their team is consistently excellent, especially due to a very intentional approach by coaches ans students alike.
Each senior team member upon receiving his jersey at this lunch is given the opportunity to address the assembled body of the school. My son, as was later reported to me, did share a brief thought. The heart of his point was this: not until joining this community and competing in rugby had he ever been really motivated to work hard for something. This experience, so he shared with his fellow-students, has transformed his personal work-ethic across all areas of his life.
I need not relate the series of thoughts and interesting questions this initiates in my own mind. My point here is simply to share how I now have occasion to learn, with a deep sense of gratitude, of how what a child especially needs might come from unexpected—or in any case unexpected by me—quarters.
I think that I needed reminding that parenting is not about feeling as though I have gotten something done. Parenting is about something actually getting done: the good formation of our children.
You will please allow that I not make a number of caveats, such as that it was perhaps not necessary that my son go away to boarding school to learn this, etc. I plan on another occasion to write up some specifics, from my vantage point, of advantages and disadvantages of a good boarding school. (We need not even advert to the disadvantages of a boarding school that is not beyond reproach in its basic program and principles.)
Again, it is my desire here only to share two simple, but perhaps not so simple, things that I have had occasion to learn through my son’s going to boarding school for the last two and half years of high school.
Graduations are a good time to look back, and I am very grateful to all who have had a part in my son’s education through the years–a number of people, and in a most special way my wife. I congratulate my son, his classmates, and all who are finishing their high school education at this time of year, and I honor all those who lovingly labor to give such education.
Addendum:
The school my son attended is Gregory the Great Academy. It was a particular pleasure to be able to express my gratitude this weekend to the small group of men who have given so much to make this a truly remarkable place for boys on the threshold of manhood. There is a similar—though with its own charism—boys’ boarding high school called St. Martin’s Academy opening this year in Kansas. From what I know of Gregory the Great by much experience, and of St. Martin’s by knowledge of the founders, I recommend both of these as very worthy of careful consideration by parents of high-school aged boys.
Plato (427-347 B.C.), a student of Socrates, and teacher of Aristotle, is considered one of the greatest philosophers of all time. The Republic is one of the most widely read and influential of all books.
Husband, father, and professor of Philosophy. LifeCraft springs from one conviction: there is an ancient wisdom about how to live the good life in our homes, with our families; and it is worth our time to hearken to it. Let’s rediscover it together. Learn more.
Thank you for this post. Gratefully coming to the end of another homeschooling year (interpret that however you desire!), I had been meaning to ask you to follow up on boarding school. I appreciate your two points, particularly the second.
My son lacked the motivation and cooperation that I hoped to see in our homeschool. The tension became overwhelming and the relationship incredibly threatened. Last year, we chose to start him at a local charter school. His rising time is quite early b/c of the commute. I confess it stung my ego to see him get up gladly for his new school, yet I am quite grateful, and relieved, knowing finally that he is capable of cooperating. This is just one manifestation that our decision has been better for him. And ultimately, our household. Thank you again for sharing. Looking forward to your other posts.
Janice,
Thank you for sharing this. I think the reality is that this is definitely sometimes the case with children–namely that they will struggle emotionally with homeschooling, especially as they grow older, and I think more often with boys. That it happens more often with boys is perhaps in part because most fathers are now seldom actively engaged in work with their sons, at least during the day. Your experience with your son is certainly not a rare anomaly, and I am glad to hear of how it has turned out. I certainly do not mean to demean the importance and fittingness of homeschooling in many cases. I cannot express how glad I am that we did a significant part of our children’s schooling at home, especially as it was a great way for them to learn to become more like their mother. Thank you again.
Except that some of the poor parents who sent their sons off to St. Gregory the Great, were handed back a broken, molested and degraded son. There is no way to really know if your child is safe. ) : English boarding schools were well known to be rife with pederasty, and homosexuality. Glad your son is doing well. Sad for those who did not have the same experience.
Adele,
To any parents and children to whom that may have happened I do not how to begin to express my sorrow.
If such a thing happened in the past, I am confident that it does not happen now. Part of our deliberation does always have to take into account the possibility of bad things happening–which of course can happen in many different contexts. I certainly do not recommend sending any child to boarding school without a thorough investigation of the institution, as well as ongoing monitoring and accountability.
With very best wishes.
I appreciate the humility of this.
Every decision about the education of our children requires courage and trust in the beneficence of God. There comes a time, early or late, when we need to allow for the possibility the He can (and typically, will) use others to help shape the character and passions of our children.
My son, now a young husband, a skilled and compassionate paramedic, and an enthusiastic outdoorsman, might have learned a good deal about compassion as an outworking of faith through books and conversations introduced within the family, but the wonderful men who lead his Boy Scout troop introduced him to First Aid, and to snowy wilderness experiences for which I have neither skill nor inclination, and the small, secular, private day-school he attended provided opportunities for leadership which would not have been possible at home. Each enriched his life, and contributed significantly to his chosen career.
All that said, there is a quiet sadness for a parent watching this transition. There is a sense in which we long to be their all.
I once wrote in my journal, “Children wander the wide world of youthful exploration and a mother watches – heart torn between proud wonder and muffled loss.” I still feel it, even as I thank God for the people my children have become.
“All that said, there is a quiet sadness for a parent watching this transition. There is a sense in which we long to be their all.”
Dear Judy,
I am John’s wife and Nicholas’ mother. I want to thank you for your comment. I feel like it is the best expression of my experience these past two and a half years. It was comforting to have you share it. Thank you for your insight!
And thank you, Janice, as well for sharing your experience which was very similar to my own experience!
Hello Sofia,
I am grateful to know that it was comforting to read my reflection on John’s post.
Have you read Wendell Berry’s lovely little novel, “Hannah Coulter”? In part, it is a gentle exploration of a mother’s ongoing sense of loss as her children make their way in the world. Entering her loss helped me articulate my own. In addition to reading the novel, I have listened to this really wonderful audio version.
https://www.amazon.ca/Hannah-Coulter-A-Novel/dp/B001P6IX5C
Dr. Cuddeback, thank you for your courage in writing so beautifully about your family’s experience. I also appreciated and was touched by Janice’s openness in sharing about her son. Isn’t it wonderful that Catholics can be vulnerable to one another and derive support in this type of forum? The secular world so often doesn’t understand the religious lens through which we Catholic parents try to see.
Regarding board schools in particular, I had to make the case to my husband nearly twenty years ago that “we’re losing our son, and we have to get him where he will accept from others what he won’t accept from us.” Sending him to a Christian military boarding school required assuming into significant debt and facing the shocked and disapproving reactions from friends, neighbors, and school counselors. I’m sure they were thinking, “What kind of parents sends a 13-year-old boy away?” I just had to keep telling myself that the Lord would bring good out of this, and that our son needed to be around a whole legion of strong, Christian men. Moreover, I knew that the naysayers would not be around to help my husband and me accept the outcome if we allowed our son to continue to loaf, squander his academic potential, be defiant at home, etc.
After a rough first year of adjustment that included skipping eighth grade to start high school a year early, calls home that said, “I don’t belong here!”, tears when we returned him to school after holidays, our faith was rewarded. Our son quickly shot to the top of his class and took every AP class offered, and became captain/president of the Catholic Cadets’ League, the tennis team, the debate team, and a couple of other activities that I can’t remember. He graduated valedictorian, and won twelve of the twenty or so awards given out for “Best-This-or-That” on Awards Night, including one for exemplary character. He also had made so many close friends, who ribbed him on Awards Night, “Why don’t you just take your chair up there on the stage and sit there? We’re sick of you getting up and down from your seat.” He was accepted by all six colleges where he applied, and ended up going to an Ivy League college and then a prestigious law school. He is happily married to his college sweetheart, with several of his boarding school friends at his wedding, and I’m so proud of the very faithful Catholics he and my daughter-in-law are.
I wish I could have seen twenty years ago how the decision to send our son to a military boarding school would turn out. But this was one of those times in life when a husband and wife have to turn to each other and say, “This is a decision only we two and the Lord will understand.” The other folks, well, they just don’t know because they’re not living in our house, so they really don’t matter. I thank God often that such a Christian boarding school was there for us at a time when I knew we were losing our son. It gave us our son back. Although, as Janice’s poignant remarks reminded, they’re never really ours to lose . . .
Thank you Marie. What an amazing account. I know how hard that must have been in the early years. God has surely blessed you and your husband for your fidelity. That is a great witness to the importance of being faithful to what God is giving to us in our particular circumstances, even when others do not understand.
To Adele: It’s soul-crushing to consider a situation as such. Even with extended family giving rave reviews after attending both the previous program and the new organization of today’s school – we remain highly alert and suspect always.
To anyone considering the program: I can only personally attest to the past two years of a [seemingly] more organized operation than it was in the past, and one with checks and balances that include slight nuances only the most careful shepherd would notice. If you are considering this school, just go spend time there when there’s NOT an event – when there’s no juggling show or rugby game or banquet celebration. Speak to the staff, the students; ask questions and observe. Just go, because the truth of the school and the sacrifices of the staff, the boys and their families are where you’ll find the clearest answers for a decision.
I wish this post existed two years ago. Every time I think I have this experience filed away neatly in my brain and in my heart, it turns out that I do not have it settled yet – but maybe that’s the point? Everyone speaks to these particular programs and how they will, God-willing, benefit your son’s soul. An important part to note, though, is how it seems to be saving ours. It’s changed our whole household.
Because your shared thoughts are giving solace (even two years in on this plan) I dug up an old email I wrote Mr. Fitzpatrick a few weeks after taking our son his Freshman year. Here’s a part of what I was experiencing, for what it’s worth to all those about to learn more or to those still “neatly filing away”.
Subj.: Within a Forest Dark
Mr. Fitzpatrick,
Thank you for writing last week. I want to tell you how I appreciate your acknowledgment of the brokenness we (might) feel when leaving our sons to live somewhere outside our homes and families.
Marcus has been encouraging my reaching out to you. Mrs Beebe has as well … and I wasn’t exactly certain what end they felt would come from an introduction topped off with tears and snot? Perhaps they wondered if my decision for Colby to attend the school wasn’t quite solidified and needed cementing. I am sorry I cried throughout your parents’ meeting; it was unexpected. I don’t historically become emotional, and definitely not visibly, when my children reach milestones. But I guess that’s not really an accurate comparison of boarding school beginnings, is it?
I was inconsolable the rest of that day; I never saw it coming. And it was the type of sadness that delivered a new blow each time I woke up that night. I wanted him to be at the school, but it shocked me how unnatural and chaotic and sickened it made me feel to leave my 14yr old son on the East Coast with a bunch of people none of us knew – not really, anyway. And though that night after leaving I was reasoning with myself almost every thought you wrote about in your email regarding the school enriching boys’ lives, I was (still am) fighting voices like, “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be – these last few years we have of him.” That it doesn’t have to be this way, because there’s no certainty or map to helping Colby’s soul towards Heaven.
My point with this message: It is so very hard. Even when the decision is solid. Even when battles with grandparents and friends and family over the insanity of “a boarding school option for a well-rounded kid” have subsided, when your son is somewhat excited… when your spiritual advisor publicly endorses the program, when you don’t have financial constraints, and even when you might wish you were a 14-year-old boy yourself…
It’s really, really hard.
And thank you for all that you do.
We support you, we are “in”… and I appreciate your humoring me through the changing of the guard.
In Christ,
Mrs. Robinson
—
Dear Crystal,
I for one deeply appreciate your sharing this. It truly reveals a mother’s heart in a very trying circumstance. God bless you.
Just to clarify – the school’s events are some of the most rewarding times you’ll spend with your son, the students and their families. But in the most routine, daily “quietness” of what occurs when no one is performing, hosting, or has to be “on” is where you find the untold beauty that’s really behind the formation of the students.