Uniforms, dorm inspections and camaraderie, living the boarding school life

MILL BAY, British Columbia — At 6:45 p.m. on a Monday night, the 48 teenage boys of Whittall House are jammed elbow-to-elbow in their dorm's common room, a faint eau-de-gym-locker smell in the air.

In the center of the circle stands their houseparent, Marius Felix. He does a quick head count and reels off a few reminders, including an appeal to clean their rooms that sounds like a parental echo from home.

At precisely 6:50 p.m., the boys are back in their rooms.

Whittall House is dead quiet, and the only noise you hear for the next two hours is the sound of pages turning.

This is what it looks like each weeknight during "prep," or study hall, across the campus of Brentwood College School — 430 students in grades 8 to 12 working in solitary silence with not even a TV on for background noise.

Brentwood isn't a boot camp for wayward teens. It's a $34,000-a-year, college-prep boarding school with a modern flavor — think Harry Potter's Hogwarts School without the turrets — and, yes, an undercurrent of military discipline.

The school, an hour north of Victoria, is also one of several British Columbia boarding schools stepping up recruitment efforts in the Seattle area, betting there are more families here who would be drawn to their academics, amenities and track record for college placements.

Brentwood's rural, waterfront campus has an appealing, small-college feel, its buildings arranged around a central plaza with a view of Mount Baker.

But it would be many high-schoolers' idea of hell:

Students go to classes six days a week; wear uniforms; and have chores, early bedtimes and dorm inspections. They must stand when adults enter their classrooms. Students who miss any of the four daily sign-ins, class or school events have to pay back two hours for every one they miss.

This is what Abby Rosen's friends pictured when she told them she was leaving her Seattle private school to attend Brentwood.

"Most of them asked: 'What did you do to get in so much trouble?' " said Rosen, a junior. "I've kind of stopped trying to explain it."

Students call their school "the Brentwood bubble," sometimes fondly and sometimes out of frustration with their carefully scripted lives and the insular world they inhabit.

Rosen has learned to live with the rules — and which ones can be bent a little. ("You can get away with texting" during prep, she points out.)

She also has developed an appreciation for her close relationship with classmates and teachers and an academic environment she believes has prepared her for any university.

"I have a bond with my friends at Brentwood that's unlike anything I've ever experienced," she said. "My friends back home are exactly the same. I feel I've changed a lot. Here, you're living on your own. You definitely have to grow up."

Boarding basics

Boarding schools are a tradition without much of a toehold on the West Coast. Of the 300 or so North American schools affiliated with the Association of Boarding Schools, fewer than 30 are on the West Coast.

There are just two Washington boarding schools, both dominated by international students. One, Annie Wright School in Tacoma, also accepts domestic boarders.

At Brentwood, 56 of the 430 students are Americans, 21 of whom are from Washington. The school gives out up to $800,000 a year in scholarships and financial aid, but most students come from well-heeled families headed by doctors, lawyers and other professionals who can afford the equivalent of tuition at Harvard for a year of high school. In June, some families arrive in private seaplanes and yachts to pick up their students from the school's dock.

The family tradeoff

Many parents couldn't imagine being separated from their teen for weeks or months at a time, in effect outsourcing the daily work of parenting to someone else.

A student writing in Brentwood's online newsletter last fall put it this way: "Instead of watching their children's lives play out like a movie, [parents] simply see snapshots of the journey into adulthood... ."

Parents who choose boarding school say there's a tangible payoff for their children — an educational leg-up and a strength of character that comes from living independently — even if that comes at the cost of missed family time.

Some students see their parents only a few times a year. Milestone moments — a first date, a college acceptance letter, friendships and break-ups — are often shared first with houseparents and teachers.

Brentwood's youngest students, some as young as 12, are tucked in each night by senior students — literally, sometimes, with a hug, a kiss and a smoothing of the bed covers.

If there's bad news from home, parents often phone their child's houseparent first to help break the news. One eighth-grader showed up teary-eyed in her morning social-studies class last month after being told the family cat had died.

Another was struggling to cope with the news that his parents are getting divorced. All his teachers were informed, and a group of boys from his dorm took him under wing, sharing their own experiences with divorce.

Abby's dad, Gary Rosen, has heard plenty from friends and family wondering how he could have possibly sent his two daughters away to school.

The first reports sent home by Brentwood about their progress settled it for Rosen.

"This place got my kids," he said. It understood them better in just two months than the Seattle private school they had attended for nine years.

"Yes, you miss those day-to-day moments," said Rosen, a Seattle physician. "But it's seeing what they're like when they're done — incredibly independent, thoughtful, considerate."

A well-rounded approach

Like many boarding schools, Brentwood serves as a pipeline to exclusive colleges, including Harvard, Brown, Yale and top-ranked universities in Canada and the United Kingdom. Every one of Brentwood's grads goes to college, most to their first-choice schools.

At Brentwood, a jock can't be just a jock.

The school takes a three-pronged approach to education, emphasizing academics, sports and the arts in equal measure and aiming to produce graduates with an interesting blend of skills.

Rowers have roles in the school musical. Rugby players paint pictures that hang in the school's art gallery. Dancers learn whitewater kayaking or how to build a snow cave.

School's out each day at 1:15, and then the afternoon programs begin.

Three days a week, students choose from a mind-boggling array of fine-arts classes — up to 20 choices each hour between 2 p.m. and 6 p.m., including sculpture, dance, digital photography and rock band.

On three alternating afternoons a week, students play sports, some coached by former Olympic and professional athletes.

"Colleges tell us that our applicants are interesting, and they stand out because they are different," said Gerry Pennells, one of three university counselors.

"For an American to come here, obviously they've got to be a little bit different, a little bit adventurous."

Away from home

School is never really out when you go to boarding school. And sometimes your education has nothing at all to do with academics.

Junior Dan Thompson admits he was "a bit of a rebel" when he arrived on campus — curt, defiant, moody when he didn't get his way.

"Let's put it this way: I had a short temper," said Thompson, originally from Australia. His family now lives in Shanghai, where his dad works in commercial real estate.

Thompson also has a key role as the coxswain for the school's prestigious varsity crew — a 115-pound blond in charge of telling eight 180-pound rowers what to do on the water.

On a campus where one-third of the student body is involved in rowing, Thompson was a star. And it was his role as helmsman that helped engineer an attitude adjustment.

After numerous warnings, the school pulled Thompson from the crew team last year just days before the team went to the Canadian high-school championship. It was a very public slap that sent ripples across the campus, and the wakeup call Thompson said he needed to pull it together.

Thompson spent time with the school counselor, and even more time sitting on Felix's couch discussing his behavior. Thompson said Felix, his houseparent, was tough but fair, going to bat for him with teachers when he clashed with them.

"If kids are going to be successful here, they have got to be happy here," said Felix, who also oversees the school's boarding program, teaches history and coaches rugby.

"We're not trying to replace their parents, but we're trying to forge meaningful relationships with the kids. ... We have a shared responsibility in raising these kids."

This year, Thompson's grades are up. He is mentoring younger students. He recently worked on the production staff for the campus musical. And he's back on varsity crew.

"You sort of forget about who your parents are when you're here," said Thompson, who sees his parents three times a year. "This is your family."

And this is the tradeoff families make in the belief that the opportunities, friendships and habits created at boarding school will compensate for the day-to-day moments they miss sharing along the way.

Jolayne Houtz: jhoutz@seattletimes.com or 206-464-3122