To board or not to board? A parent’s hostel dilemma

At the beginning of the new academic year, I found myself confronted by a tough decision that I had conveniently deferred earlier. On our daughter’s ninth birthday, I had been caught off guard when my husband suggested we consider sending her to a boarding school. Coming from an indulgent dad, protective to the core, who spends his Sundays running a veritable spa at home for his little princess, oiling her long tresses and proffering her a luxuriant manicure, it was nothing short of a bolt from the blue for me.

When I was in primary school, I looked at hostels as rehab centres for children who couldn’t be disciplined at home. In middle school, watching my cousins and neighbourhood children who studied in hostels, I deduced that they were primarily institutions that catered to the needs of overtly ambitious parents; and produced confident children, usually sprightly in the field. I pictured their schools as cold buildings in the midst of sprawling greens where children robotically moved from the mess to the playfields, and to the stage for the endless series of dramatics, finally falling asleep reading The Famous Five novels in their stark dormitories. I thanked God for my simple parents who were content keeping their children home.

Eventually, my thinking evolved, and I recognised that hostels were the perfect places to unlock potential. Now, I looked at the parents of hostellers as selfless, willing to endure the pangs of an empty nest to furnish better opportunities for their little ones.

Nonetheless, I was confident that with my teaching experience, a keen eye for spotting learning opportunities within the city and the enthusiasm, I would succeed in bringing up my child to my satisfaction.

However, in recent years, I realised that my small town woefully lacks the desired learning environment. As they say, it takes a village to raise a child. Alone, I would never be able to match the exposure a child gets at a boarding school.

Now with husband keen on it too, I began to consider the list of reputed boarding schools in the country.

I checked their websites and took feedback of friends whose children study there. The ones who have the maximum holidays on the calendar seem to have the longest distance from our city, too. I mentally calculated the amount of time it will take me to rush to the hostel if God forbid, the warden calls me that your child has a bad cough and cold and drive her back to the comfort of the house and begin my home remedies.

Lying down in bed, I picture the apple of my eyes, shedding tears on her pillow, missing home, too scared to go to the washroom alone at night and too timid to wake up anybody or too tired for the PT drill and yet made to run by stern coaches.

They say 18 summers is all you have with your child. Oddly, no one says 18 summers is all the child has with her parents. Don’t they deserve to be with their parents during their formative years, in the warmth and comfort of their homes? Or is building social skills, self-reliance and resilience more important?

THEY SAY 18 SUMMERS IS ALL YOU HAVE WITH YOUR CHILD. ODDLY, NO ONE SAYS 18 SUMMERS IS ALL THE CHILD HAS WITH HER PARENTS