Homesickness and happiness: My three years at boarding school

“What are your thoughts on boarding school, Xanny?” It was one of the first questions my parents asked me when the discussion was raised in 2007 about heading to the big smoke for my final three years of schooling.

“What about Steel?” was my response. Steel was my beloved dappled quarter horse, that I had become rather attached to during my early teenage years. A keen rider, I would spend countless weekends competing with Steel in one-day events. I had dreams of working overseas, perhaps as a track-work rider or a stablehand. I hadn’t quite nutted that part out. I just knew that, as a 15-year-old, horses were the centre of my world; schooling and homework came second for me. 

It was an aspiration my parents weren’t overly enthusiastic about. They wanted to provide me with opportunities that could arise from attending boarding school and meeting new people; something, upon reflection, I am most grateful for. But it was an uphill battle.

I was known as the homebody of my family. The youngest of three children, born and raised in Wagga Wagga, New South Wales, and lived on a small acreage on the outskirts of town. Home, to me, was everything. It was my sanctuary. I had my cat, my dog, my own bedroom, and a great group of friends that I had made from attending the local Anglican school. Most importantly, I had my horse Steel.

My eldest brother had gone to boarding school in Sydney from Year 7. My older sister started her studies in 2007 in Year 11 at Kambala. [Kambala is an independent girls school in Sydney’s Rose Bay.] It was the same school my parents were suggesting I attend from Year 10 in 2008. 

I can’t quite remember my brother heading off to boarding school, but I do recall my sister Georgie’s departure. She took the transition in her stride. She connected with her boarding year; made great friends. Every time she came home for school holidays, she looked happy and would share stories of what she got up to with her boarding cohort. 

The more she talked about it, the more enthusiastic I became at the idea of attending myself. I made my parents promise that Steel would remain at home for me to ride during the school holidays and that great care and attention would be given to him, even during school terms. My parents promised he would be.

With great excitement and a little bit of apprehension as to what I could expect from starting at a new school, I commenced Year 10 at Kambala in 2008. Kambala has a small boarding community, which makes the transition less overwhelming. I was welcomed and included by all the girls in my boarding year. They were a beautiful bunch of young women, and to this day I am still friends with them. It’s true what they say, the friends you make at boarding school tend to stick together throughout life. They have been there for all the milestones; my 21st birthday, my engagement, my wedding, meeting my son Jim — they are only ever a phone call away.

Once I started the first term, I quickly realised that my level of education was not where it should have been. It seems those afternoons riding Steel rather than completing my homework had caught up with me. I would compare it to being a very small duck on a very large pond. I acted relatively calm on the surface, but under the surface I was paddling a mile a minute to catch up to my peers. It was a tough adjustment.

The adjustment to being away from home was even tougher. Homesickness was prevalent not just during my first year of boarding school, but for the entire three years. If I kept my mind busy and focused on my studies and spent time with the friends I had made at Kambala, the homesickness would abate, but it never went away.

I was lucky that I had extended family who lived in Sydney. Aunts, uncles, cousins, a grandmother: I was never alone, and I never had to be alone. They would regularly scoop me up, sign me out for weekends and take me back to their homes to be well fed and entertained. But sometimes that would make the homesickness worse, as I would keep reminding myself that by Sunday afternoon I would have to head back to the boarding house to start the new school week. One of my aunts told me she couldn’t bear having to drop me back on a Sunday afternoon; she would avoid it by dropping me back as late as possible on a Sunday evening. Perhaps this was so she couldn’t see the tears welling up in my eyes as she drove away into the darkness.

My parents’ unwavering support throughout those three years is what helped with the homesickness battle. I don’t want to think about the number of kilometres they did up and down the Hume Highway just to see me for 48 hours over the weekend. All I know is that it was a lot. That support, combined with my determination to finish, is what got me through.

My parents offered to bring me home after one year, to return to my local high school in Wagga Wagga for Years 11 and 12. But I knew the education and the results I was obtaining at Kambala were paying off. I saw how well both my brother and sister did with their HSC results. I was resolved to do the same. The study combined with the support given to me by my teachers meant I was rewarded with a result that far exceeded my expectations and those of my parents.

Upon reflection, 14 years after my Year 12 graduation I have nothing but gratitude for the opportunity my parents gave me to go to boarding school, and many happy memories from those three years living in Sydney. Yes, they were swamped by days of wishing I was back at home, but the education and the girls I met is something I wouldn’t ever change. Those years shaped me, dogged determination and all.

And for those who wonder whether the homesickness continues, even now living in my own home with my husband Alex and three-year-old son Jim: yes, it does continue. Just ask Alex how much of an effort it is for me to say goodbye to them for an overnight work trip. Less than 24 hours away, and I still have tears welling in my eyes as I drive down the driveway. It’s the homebody in me.

Alexandra MacAlpine is a regular contributor to Graziher. She lives on a grazing property in the Central West of New South Wales.