Attending Boarding School Must Be a Balance
By Candace Mitchell, 11th grade, January 21, 2004

My experience as a new student to Philips Andover Academy was a true test: of my abilities, of my sense of direction, and even of the core values in which I believed. My transition from a local high school to the daunting and sprawling Andover Campus was more than a change in location; it required me to hold everything I had under a critical lens, to question it and at moments to abandon it.

Boarding school at once represented immense opportunity, as well as a clear separation from my home, family and friends. The decision to attend boarding school was that of my mother, but I realized from the very start that I would have to develop reasons of my own to make the most of my experience, and if not I would have to abandon more than I was most likely willing to sacrifice. I knew that I was investing in aspirations and goals and that betraying them for the sake of opposition, regardless of how valid my concerns were, was to diminish my work thus far-and that of those who loved me most.

This year, I have met people from all over the world who have engaged me in the most dangerous, most relevant, and most heartfelt conversations that I have ever experienced. I have probably studied the hardest that I have ever had to study, and the grades never seemed to out value the skills that I acquired in the process. All of my philosophies have been questioned and, thus, strengthened. I have walked about in one of the most extensive libraries, have been within inches of exquisite Native American art and have had the opportunity to sit in a back bleacher, listening to Winston Marcellis share his stories in smoky, blue jazz. My dreams have been torn apart, only in preparation for greater dreams.

Andover, however, is not perfect. At moments, I have felt out of place. I miss hip-hop. I miss my mother blow-drying my hair early on Sunday morning. I miss having time to sit or to read a book of my choice or to laugh with my friends about how so-and-so said this-and-that.

There is definitely a part of you that you have to neglect. You miss being a part of the world. In the "Andover bubble," sometimes you have to hide what makes you imperfect and, concurrently, unique. Being thrust in such a competitive, and often sterile, environment asks you to trivialize what is childish or idealistic to become black and white, a yes or a no, an advantage or a disadvantage.

Making my emotional and spiritual needs commodities was one of the most threatening notions I encountered. Sometimes, because I had goals beyond going Ivy-League and making a six-figure salary, I felt out of place. I had to realize that I had to make a place for me if there was not one for me already. Elitism, racism, and ignorance were evils that could be overcome, and through personal struggle and support from my mother, I am making the effort a valuable lesson about tolerance and perspective.

Attending boarding school must be a balance of what is lost and what is gained. You have to decide that your dreams are worth delegating to whatever personal needs may currently be in question. My high school years at Andover will not be the most fun years of my life. They will not be the source of my fondest memories. In overcoming a winter in Massachusetts, a year at Philips Academy, and a litany of personal struggles, I do have the insight to realize that I am developing a better me. The value of that knowledge is immeasurable.