大象传媒

I agree in part with Nick Duffell that boarders develop a 鈥渟trategic survival鈥� personality. Outside they are competent and confident. Inside they are private and insecure, however as a child who was placed in a children's home at the age of 11 although I am always on my guard, I do not despise weakness in others, rather I see it as vulnerability that I look to comfort, just as the older boys displayed in their understanding of their young peers. and certainly in this school I didn't feel the boys were made to feel they weren't allowed to show it. Father's on the other hand is a different matter.

I am really enjoying the programmes and watching the adults approach to the boys and visa versa, I wish I could feel confident that the positive verbal approach and encouraged respect the boys are experiencing was available at all schools, sadly I have overheard and witnessed how young people are spoken to and how they speak back so I don't hold out much hope for those not privileged to go to a school such as this, which offers and believes in positive and respectful approach to young people.

I would also like to learn about european schools like France and the Netherlands who I understand cater for children from the age of 13 with artistic talents, who are practical, have good social skills and not just academic abilities, trouble with today is the message to us all is "if you don't have a degree you are not worthy" and the old but true saying is still in play " it's not what you know, but who you know"

Interesting Series.

I also experienced boarding school "first hand". Some 55 years ago my well-intentioned but misguided parents sent me to weekly boarding school, a few miles from our idyllic farmstead, in preparation for full boarding before my eighth birthday. Like the boys in the film I didn't protest much at the time, but it caught up with me later, and despite years of psychotherapy and help from Nick Duffell I still bear the emotional scars.

For a few children, such as those in the armed forces, perhaps there is no alternative to boarding. But there is now so much anecdotal and clinical evidence of the damage associated with "emotional bottling up" that in general we should rule out boarding for primary school children. To subject children to premature separation from their parents and the intimacy of the family home is to make them experience a form of emotional cruelty. There was a moving point in the film when Dominic's mother admitted that she had had to give in to the double pressure from her "tough" husband abetted by her son against her better maternal judgement to say No.

I hope the insights of psychotherapists like Nick, the sensitive comments of concerned parents like Claire and the testimony of boarding school survivors like myself, will give "privileged" mothers [in the absence of paternal support] the courage to question whether boarding is the best option for young and vulnerable children.

As a an abuse victim at one of the country's equally privileged prep-schools, documented in the 2009 BAFTA winning documentary, Chosen (, this seemed to me to be a desperately coy and one-dimensional portrayal of private school life.

Unlike the 大象传媒's 1993 40 Minutes Documentary, The Making of Them, there was no insight into the impact of such a privileged up-bringing. No comment on how pushing down almost uncontrollable sadness might turn you into an emotional cripple, well suited for ascents of the corporate ladder, but not equipped to have an emotionally real relationship with partners and children.

The film just showed "little men" readying themselves to move into the positions of further privilege in industry, academia, banking and medicine already pre-reserved for them, courtesy of their education.

It was impossibly prim and proper and admirably stage-managed by the school proprietor. I am surprised the filmmakers are not reeling in shame - could they have perhaps been old-boys?

All I would ask is that parents contemplating the expense of such education carefully scrutinize the schools' child protection policy.

If anyone pretends that boys don't bully and private schools don't attract pedophiles, they have lost grip of reality.

It is still not a statutory obligation of schools to report sexual abuse to the police - yes, that's true. The schools can elect to deal with such 鈥渋ncidents鈥� themselves in concert with the parents.

I am not for a minute suggesting that Sunningdale might be harboring sexual predators, all I am saying is that the film was frothy, light-hearted and superficial, creating a sense that all little chaps cope admirably with the trial and tribulations of going to boarding school at an indecently young age. There was hardly an allusion to the darker side of school life.

What was chilling for me was that the Sunningdale's modus operandi replicated the regime that I endured 1957-63 - the quaint use of Latin to indicate a day-out: exeat, the buddy system, the emphasis on "big boys don't cry."

The knee jerk reaction to such celebratory cases of school abuse, such as John Peel's at Shrewsbury is that it simply doesn't happen any more. This remains more something that it is convenient to believe than a representation of reality.

Another argument is that technology, in the form of laptops and PCs, provides an umbilical cord that ensures against abject despair and keeps up a level of parental contact that my generation didn't experience.

My own experience, and that of others I've talked to, is that the shock of being so thoroughly abandoned by my parents, left me helpless and clueless at what was going on during the grooming process, which ended in my repeated sexual abuse by a trusted member of the school鈥檚 staff.

I attended one of Nick Duffel's Boarding School Survivor Workshops, where ten or so of us workshopped our way through the trauma of abandonment. When Duffell asked us all to remember the moment we knew we'd been sentenced to a boarding school life, there was not a dry eye in the house. Surprising, really, since the parental investment in "stiff upper lips' had been considerable. But the collective realisation that we'd entered an arid emotionless world, where natural instincts had to be abandoned, was too powerful even for that level of conditioning to prevail.

When the sociologists get round to doing the research on early boarding, it seems likely to me that they will discover that it carries the same perils as putting your toddlers into day care. Research (ref Oliver James) clearly shows day care induces aggression, weakened immune systems, high cortisol levels that lead to ongoing emotional distress.

I have nothing against paying for education, but I have an allergy to parents who harbour the misbegotten belief that it is better for a small child to be deprived of a home life and enter a twi-light world of forced jolliness and jaundiced aspiration.

Or perhaps they didn't have to choose which Teddy they could take to school with them. Or then again perhaps they did鈥�.

From both my work as a therapist and my own personal experiences of boarding, I believe that being transported from home to a place utterly strange, and left there, is a traumatic experience - of being rendered unsafe in an instant. The initial startle, unless activated into Fight or Flight (the instinctive physiological response to any situation that threatens safety,) turns into prolonged shock; this position of tension will last until deemed safe to release. Meanwhile, a way of mangaging, coping and functioning has to be found. Children away at school are forced, rather than choose, to fend for themselves; whatever the help from peers and encouraging supervision from staff, the very process of adaptation that is so highly-regarded as character-building - having to be independent, reliable, tough, on the outside at least - carries a psychological price that can lead to life-long problems in adulthood, if not sooner.
Since the mid-twentieth century, research has led to a greater appreciation of children鈥檚 need for secure attachment to their central caretakers, more recently validated by neuro-scientific findings. Children who feel safe will naturally venture forth into the world with curiosity towards healthy independence, as and when they are ready; not, as some fear, remain 鈥榯ied to apron strings.鈥� It is the children who are forced to become self-reliant ahead of their natural development who meet the world warily, and form a mistrustful, defended way of being in the world that sets up patterns which later on can severely undermine intimate relationships.
The traumatic moment is the realisation that return home isn鈥檛 possible. This may happen on the front steps, unpacking the trunk, at the first meal, at bedtime. The protesting energy that surges forth has no outlet and can only collapse into submission. This process (better known in terms of trauma as the Freeze response) is, indeed, the third survival course that animals, human ones included, rely on when trapped. As such, surrender does serve its purpose, bringing relief as the life-protecting energetic arousal that has no outlet lowers, allowing for day-to-day functioning. But, whilst adapting to enforced conditions comes naturally, readapting when it鈥檚 all over doesn鈥檛 seem to. Ex-boarders have just as much difficultly rejoining the wider world as combat veterans and released prisoners and prisoners-of-war, conditioned to continue living by the same means that for years served 鈥榞etting through.鈥� To continue living as if still there, condemned, once back home, to a sense of strangeness, of not quite belonging 鈥� hence instant recognition of and sticking to one鈥檚 own kind: no wonder the public-school network is so strong.
For the first three weeks at prep school contact with home is firmly discouraged, on the rationale this would upset both children and parents; and upset must be minimised so the reality of acute distress is avoided.
I invite you to imagine, if you haven鈥檛 experienced this hiatus, or remember if you have: after parting 鈥� whether the brisk kind or distraught clinging - the measures the young child must resort to, to bear the vanishing of all s/he knows as safe and familiar, replaced by all that is scary and new. Fear and distress is automatically stifled and, discouraged by all concerned, must remain so. And there鈥檚 so much to learn, so quickly, without respite; staff promote occupation as the antidote to homesickness. The adults in charge know that three weeks is the length of time it takes to sever a young child鈥檚 focus on rescue. By the first outing, each one will have learned to put on a brave face, to withhold complaints, to count blessings.
At boarding school, just as in any 鈥榗are home鈥� or institution, inmates are not loved by their caretakers, however considerate those in charge can be. Children are taught, fed, housed but not day-to-day parented, let alone cuddled. No amount of contact by letter, phone and email; of outings, speech-day visits and weekends home; of teddy at bedtime, treacle stodge and tuckbox makes up for the certain knowledge that another goodbye looms.
Life is a matter of survival, of 鈥榞etting by,鈥� dependent upon suppressing longing (too torturing to maintain;) upon living one day at a time, eking out rations of both food and affection; making the most of things; refusing to think about home and then when holidays come blotting out 鈥榯he other place.鈥� Some learn to be canny, others to thrive on competition or play the fool. Hungry for attention, the boarder will strive for recognition in terms of achievement, whether in class, at sport, at music; sadly, the child鈥檚 sense of self and confidence becomes totally dependent upon 鈥榮uccess鈥� or 鈥榝ailure鈥� in these terms. The true self, in terms of feelings and needs, must be hidden and thus become split off.
There are many mantras for maintaining the boarding ethos - 鈥榚veryone鈥檚 doing their best鈥� you鈥檒l be grateful one day for the opportunities鈥� you鈥檒l build life-long friendships鈥� - which serve to protect all concerned from the bleak reality of painful, and totally unnecessary, traumatic separation. The argument about disrupting education when families move frequently is a particularly compelling one; aged eight, perhaps through to about thirteen, consistency of family presence, particularly Mum and Dad鈥檚, is still more vital than consistency of schooling.
Need for contact is primitive and instinctive; unfulfilled, it will continue to present in varying guises for as long as it remains ignored rather than recognised as such: no wonder boarders, deprived of goodnight kisses, turn to sweets and certificates and crushes as substitutes, and later become workaholics, alcoholics, and mistake sex for intimacy.
The boy or girl, grown adult, may be struggling in a relationship or with an addiction or dark depression (the 鈥榗ry for help鈥� can present in numerous ways,) want help but be loathe to seek it, mistrustful and self-critical of being needy: the idea of therapy is deeply shameful. I work with the clients who have both listened to this cry and found the courage to reach out; together, we join back up the pieces that years earlier had to be split-off, protest disallowed, Fight/Flight energy suppressed. As both therapist and ex-boarder, I recognise missed appointments, criticism, self-criticism, superiority and all judgement and prejudice as defences against connecting more fully; what I hear is a small child saying 鈥榤anaging on my own is what I had to do to survive, and I daren鈥檛 get close because saying goodbye hurts too much.鈥� As much as this child, tucked within the adult, longs for contact and craves affection, safety still relies on going solo. The pack is the enemy, authority and peers alike; best to stick to the edge, easier to scuttle away. (No wonder that my own therapist鈥檚 holidays - parting with the words, 鈥楽ee you in three weeks鈥� - was a time to endure by ticking off calendars and scribbling him notes. Over time, goodbyes gradually became less painful; the final ending, however, turned into years of work made of longing, raging, longing again, as I re-felt - and healed through a process of grieving - my young experiences.)
The work for the ex-boader, with sensitive and respectful support, understanding and encouragement from the therapist, is to escape the trauma 鈥楩reeze鈥� position held in place by behaviour patterns that are only an illusion of reactivated Fight/Flight energy (eg control over eating, power-seeking at work/at home) whilst still driven by long-forgotten helpless rage and distress. This work is made of three stages: identifying (cognitively) these patterns, recognising and honouring both how they served and the price they exacted; accepting (emotionally) what really happened 鈥� the stage that evokes much fighting resistance to feeling so much loss; and reconnection both internally and hence with the wider world that is a step-by-step process of regrowing trust. In practice, stages overlap, each releasing emotions that have been closely guarded, sometimes for decades; so the process cannot be rushed: the risk of overwhelm, even retraumatising, is ever-present.
I conclude with emphasis on what defines this particular form of trauma that renders the child within the adult so reluctant to speak out 鈥� including adults now become staff, even headteachers, at prep schools: recognition of the core pain of abandonment still has to be fought for, on the outside as well as within. Other forms of trauma such as abuse, rape, torture, imprisonment and corporal punishment - all these and more are by now widely recognised, readily evoking shock, anger and a collective desire to protect. Boarding school continues to be promoted in our predominantly each-man-for-himself culture.

I would have liked to have seen a more balanced view from the documentary. Information from therapists and experts about the negative impact of being sent away at a young age, as described in comment 4 by Jane Barclay.

I would have also like to have seen interviews with adults who had been sent to boarding school, both negative and positive. I believe that the children interviewed in the programme would not have been able to give a honest appraisal of their situation. If you are told something is good for you at that age, you tend to believe it.

@ CWinter

My experience of being sent off to board at 6 confirms your inference that kids of this sort of age, unsurprisingly, lack the understanding to know what's really happening to them. I recall a certain vague dread that this was on its way because that was the "done thing" - but it was unavoidable, I felt quite powerless. In turn, my Mum [but not my Dad] had been sent off at a similar age because her parents were colonials in India - boarding is often a tradition transmitted unthinkingly down the generations. You could see a similar process at work with Luke and Dominic [and others - the prematurely aged dorm monitor Quentin seemed a prime example] in the film, except perhaps Louis who maybe was more visibly upset because he had experienced the warmth and intimacy of family and home for longer. Even at the end of term, despite his footballing success, judging by the look on his face when asked, I wasn't entirely convinced he'd fully bought into the "boarding school is good for you" story. Unfortunately, the question as to whether he might have preferred a private day school was never put to him.

It would indeed have been very informative, possibly explosive, to see some interviews with adult ex-boarders, but I suspect the Owner/Head Master of Sunningdale may have attached some fairly restrictive conditions to allowing cameras into his school, particularly in the light of the vigorous debate stirred up by Channel 4's "Leaving Home at 8" [covering young girls in a similar setting] earlier in the year.

What I think the 大象传媒 should do at the end of the School Season is provide a forum for on-air debate, using TV and radio, of the interesting and topical issues raised by the series. In this way the wider public and experts, including educational psychologists and psychotherapists, could be brought in.

In our psychologically aware age it does seem amazing that there are no guidelines from the Department of Education as regarding what age children can be sent off to board.

A great idea that I will certainly put forward, there is certainly a lot more to say on the subject. It is astounding that there are no formal guidelines in place about what age a child can board. At my husband's school there were children as young as six boarding too.

I'm finding the comments interesting - I too was a boarder (over 35 years ago now) - starting at 9 - and only weekly boarding (Mon-Fri, not the Sat they had); most were day girls, so only a very few boarders. It was a convent too...

There was very little in the way of activities in the evenings - not quite as quiet as the nuns were - but not that different.

I can't honestly say what impact it's had on me. I was fairly shy before I went - and not exactly the centre of the party since. Yes, I am more confident in groups than I was - but I'd put that down far more to 35 more years of living!
Equally, I was an avid reader at the time & still am. Was able to do a lot of reading at school - probably more than I did at home (due to prep lasting longer than it took me to do mine)

I'm certainly not that religious now, so if my parents were hoping I'd be an active member of the church they didn't quite succeed; but I've plenty of friends who did/ didn't go to Church schools & who are/aren't religious.

In short - I don't *think* it really did me any harm - but I don't know what would have happened had I not boarded.

@ CWinter - comment 7

It is very encouraging to have your understanding and support - thanks. I hope you succeed in persuading the 大象传媒 to widen and deepen the necessary debate about early boarding.

In the meantime those interested - like Emma - can find further information on the topic, and sources of information, research and help, on the website run by "Boarding Concern" - a self-help group for those who've suffered at boarding school and wish to reform the system.

I'm at boarding schools before and I absolutely like it. I think 8y/o a bit too young, but its completely up to the child and the parent to decide that. I went boarding when I was 11 and was not very happy at the start, but you are forced to make friends and now i have the closest friends I could imagine. It makes you grow up and become independent.


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