What I Know Now

A mother’s reflection on boarding school, brave children and imperfect decisions.

By Amanda Ferrari

Last weekend at our Dubbo Boarding Schools Expo, I stood in conversation after conversation with mums and dads who quietly opened their hearts to me. Parents carrying uncertainty, guilt, hope, grief, fear and determination all at once. Parents trying to make enormous decisions for children they love beyond measure. I want to thank every one of them for their honesty, because this letter was born from those conversations as much as it was from my own reflections. While this letter is written to my children, it is really shaped by the shared experience of parenting through big decisions and unfamiliar territory. Every family’s circumstances are different, every child is different and every pathway unfolds differently, but after all these years and all these conversations, I remain deeply convinced of one thing: when decisions are led with love, even the hardest ones become easier to make. 

To my awesome amazing children, 

Before I write this letter to you, I think it’s important to tell the parents reading it something first.

When we were researching boarding school all those years ago, I thought I was searching for answers. The right school. The right fit. The right pathway. What I know now is that so much of the journey is not about certainty at all. It’s about love, instinct, resilience and finding the courage to walk beside decisions even when you’re not entirely sure you’ve made the perfect one.

And goodness me, wasn’t I unsure.

Your father gave me the reins on most of the boarding school decisions, though not without warning me repeatedly that the transition would be hard. Really hard. Naturally, I nodded, yes, yes, yes, and ignored him completely. Of course I did. I believed enthusiasm and spreadsheets could conquer anything.

What I didn’t fully understand at the time was that I was making those decisions while carrying enormous grief. I was still deep in the loss of my parents, especially Mum. I missed her wisdom terribly. There were days I would have given anything to hear her steady, pragmatic voice tell me what to do. Instead, there I was, flip-flopping between schools, doubting myself hourly and trying to navigate a world I knew absolutely nothing about.

You probably felt that uncertainty more than I realised.

Sometimes I look back and think I could have done parts differently. I wish families then had access to the conversations they have now. Honest conversations. Open conversations. Conversations with people who’ve actually lived it. Not polished brochures or legacy whispers passed around like gospel. Because while tradition matters, it is not everything. Big names and old ties do not automatically equal right fit. We are allowed to carve our own paths.

One of the hardest lessons for me, upon reflection, was homesickness.

I was so desperate to “do boarding school properly” that at times I followed the rules more than my gut. And my gut knew you needed softness before structure some days. I wish I had trusted myself sooner. I wish I had found my voice earlier when things didn’t feel right. Parents are allowed to ask questions. We are allowed to advocate. We are allowed to say, “Hang on a minute, this doesn’t sit well with me.”

But then another part of me wonders whether my naivety allowed you to build your own bridge through homesickness. Because you did build it. Slowly, painfully and bravely.

And look at you now.

Watching country children (as a city chick) grow into adults with confidence, perspective and grit has been one of the great privileges of my life. University degrees. Travel. Lifelong friendships. Adventures overseas. Lives lived boldly and independently. Watching you become yourselves has softened every hard edge of those years.

There was a time I felt cheated by where we lived. As a city girl, I had taken opportunity for granted. I raged against the reality that education in the bush often comes with impossible decisions. I contemplated leaving the farm with you all. Your father, in his wisdom, understood something I was slower to grasp – that keeping a family together mattered too.

So we learned together instead. We stumbled through boarding school side by side.

And somehow, through all the muddling and second-guessing and tears at drop-off, it all turned out.

What I know now to be true is this: a mother’s love stretches further than she ever thinks possible. And while boarding school educated you, in many ways it educated me too. 

To the parents reading this, please know this gently: you do not have to get everything right. None of us do. What matters most is that your children know you are walking beside them in the decision, in the homesickness, in the uncertainty and in the becoming.

Love will carry far more than perfection ever could. 

With all my love Mum x