The Magic of Boarding Schools

Cafeteria fare, three meals a day, grows old quick, I learned 10 years ago when, at age 16, I moved 150 miles from home to enroll at the Indiana Academy for Science, Mathematics and Humanities. I shared a room the size of a Camry. Rules were strict. No matter. When I read the Harry Potter books years later, I recognized Harry's joy upon finding Hogwarts, his boarding school, as my own. At my old high school, I had been stuck in an English class that read John Knowles' A Separate Peace aloud, each student reading a paragraph, week after wretched week. At the Indiana Academy, on the other hand, classes stretched my brain to take in everything from the chemistry of photosynthesis to how John Locke's writings influenced the Founding Fathers. Teachers would let you debate Camus in their offices all afternoon if you wished and, like the Hogwarts wizards, I grew giddy living with kids like (bookish, not wizardish) me. Ten years later, millions of Americans have fallen in love with J.K. Rowling's Hogwarts tales. Oddly, though, Potter-mania has not sparked a corresponding affection for boarding schools. While the number of school-age kids has skyrocketed over this period, enrollment in the nation's 200-odd traditional boarding schools has been flat. There's a wizard's brew of factors at play, from tuition to a lack of awareness, but a recent Wall Street Journal article suggested a more intriguing thesis. Wealthy suburban parents — the kind most boarding schools woo — are too into intensive, hovering parenting to let their darlings leave home as young as I did. For the Millennial Generation, notes school consultant Kelly Makes of Mindpower Inc., "There's the whole 'Mom is my best friend' thing going on." Pursuing the unconventional That's too bad, given how good boarding education can be. But we could see a boost yet. The Indiana Academy's applications have jumped as it has gone after bright, urban and rural kids who, for all their local schools are doing to challenge them, might as well be stuck, like Harry Potter, under the Dursleys' stairs. Gifted children like these could revive boarding education — if policymakers will take notice and boarding schools will look beyond their usual crew. Not everyone buys that clingy parents are undermining boarding education. "Parents have always been reluctant to have children leave," says Steve Ruzicka, executive director of The Association of Boarding Schools. "That's nothing new." Still, it's the rare well-to-do parent who wouldn't fear neighborhood judgment if she sent little Madison off with a laundry basket at age 15, and Madison, comfy in her own bedroom with a decent private school nearby, doesn't push to leave. While the National Center for Education Statistics shows a 20% jump in high school enrollment from 1992-2002, the National Association of Independent Schools reports that boarding schools, over the past decade, have grown just 2.7%. So what, most Americans would shrug, but boarding school malaise doesn't bode well for one group of kids: highly gifted ones (meaning IQs of roughly 145-plus). Normal schools rarely have classes that tap the brains of the one or two kids like this they see per year. Boarding schools, though, draw from a broader geographic range. They can concentrate gifted kids, hire teachers who can challenge them and create a critical mass of frenetic minds. Unfortunately, few do that. Many remain places for little Madisons to collect stamps proving their ruling-class credentials. Since Madison's "best friends" (parents) now prefer to keep her at home, boarding schools are losing their lure. That needn't be the case. When I attended the Indiana Academy, admissions standards were hazy. Now 350-400 applicants compete for 150 spots. The surge came when the school started targeting parents of gifted kids in the poor cities east of Chicago, and in rural districts with nothing beyond regular 12th-grade math. For these parents, the school's perks — AP classes, real labs — outweigh hovering tendencies. As a result, "our student body has gotten poorer and more rural," says Tracy Cross, former executive director. "It's terrific." The Indiana Academy has another perk: It's public; families pay only a small annual ($1,500) boarding fee. By contrast, New Hampshire's Phillips Exeter Academy charges $33,000. While about 30% of boarding school students receive financial aid, perceptions remain that such schools are only for the rich. Opening their doors Schools can change that. They can badger alumni to stop padding elite universities' endowments and instead fund scholarships to ensure bright kids have a shot at top colleges. They can raise awareness of their schools by bringing high-achieving students from lower income districts to their campuses for awards ceremonies. Few schools, though, can shoulder the total cost of becoming meritocracies. That's where policymakers come in. About a dozen states have public, residential schools for the gifted. All states should. But if states won't build more Indiana Academies, they can still meet their most gifted students' needs. Footing the bill at a private boarding school is an option. During the 2000-01 school year, according to the Education Department, states and the federal government paid tuition at private residential schools or facilities for 17,111 disabled students whose needs couldn't be met locally. Such placements run at least $30,000 a child. That's enough to match even Exeter's cost, if policymakers thought gifted kids deserved a free and appropriate education as much as others with special needs. As it is, boarding schools aren't getting the best applicants, and kids stuck in local schools don't know there's another option. At the Indiana Academy, I finally discovered how thrilling it was to stretch your brain to learn. More kids need the opportunity for such magic.