It’s been 40 years since I left boarding school, and yet the effects linger. I am unsure of myself, don’t particularly like groups of people, or rules for that matter. I hate that I comply almost always. I’m told to jump and I bitch and moan about it and then do it. I’d like to blame the rigid authority and discipline of boarding school from all those years ago, but I think it’s more because I’m just not good at getting away with things, and that’s probably because I don’t often think well on my feet. I take time with even the simplest things. Forty years is a long time.
I’ve been in contact with many “old boys” my schools, the goal being to find the answer to why, when asked if I’d ever send my kids to boarding school, I didn’t scream, “FUCK NO!” Almost everyone I knew then came out okay, or so it seems. Some have carried obvious anger with them, and when I hear why, it makes sense. I try to tell them to let it go, but if I took my own advice, I’d have abandoned my memoir and gotten on with writing science fiction.
Experts say the best way to overcome the past is to face it. I remember when my wife insisted on us going to Ireland back in 1992 as part of our honeymoon – she wanted to meet some of my family – I was so apprehensive. I thought I’d collapse, trembling with fear. I felt nothing when I got off the plane in Belfast from Manchester. I felt nothing that whole trip but figured it was because it lasted just one day. We were in and out.
But the same happened years later when I went over to bury my father. This time, I took a day in the car to go to Enniskillen to my old school. Again, I expected to tremble and shake seeing the town, the gates, the school on the hill. Nothing. I’ve since been to the other schools and felt the same nothing as before. No nostalgia, no fear, just a blank.
I’ve been in contact with old boys but talking with them is somewhat challenging. Some have done well and don’t dwell on the past, and some don’t mind sharing what they remember. Either way, I always feel guilty about pumping them for information because it’s all one way. If and when I finally publish my memoir, all I can do is say thank you with a free copy and a much-deserved credit on the inside.
I am so close. The answer to the question – would I have considered sending my kids to boarding school – is yes. Would I have actually pursued that course? Not likely. If our circumstances had been different, I might not have had a choice, but they weren’t, and it’s moot now anyway. Now it’s your turn to wonder why I came to that conclusion. 😉