Education Options for Your Teenager

There are myriad ways to educate your child. You can go the traditional route and have them attend a public school. 89% of kids attend public schools. You can home school your child if you are up to the task. Or you can send them to a private school. You can even choose a private boarding school if you believe they will benefit from this kind of education. Catholic, Protestant, secular and even a military school are all on the table.

Below, we will be sharing with you a testimony from someone who attended one of these schools. His experience is of his time at Fishburne Military School, located in Waynesboro, Virginia.

My Experience at a Private Boarding Military School

One night, over 20 years ago, my parents asked me to dump out my backpack.  And it changed the trajectory of my life forever, because it led to me graduating from Fishburne Military School.

I had just finished my first semester of 9th grade.  My grades were floundering.  My direction was non-existent.  I had quit football.  Needless to say, my parents were concerned.  

They sat me down one fateful December night, after finals were over, and asked me to open my backpack.  It was full of junk: maybe some junk food wrappers, a paperback novel or 2, probably a Gameboy color.  

There was no organization, no rhyme or reason – it was all just jumbled in there.  Most troubling, though: there was no school work to be found.  My parents must have felt it was a metaphor for my life at that moment – though all that went over my head at the time.

“Son,” they said, “enough is enough.  We are worried about you.  We have been talking about you, and we think it’s time that we change things up.  You’re going to military school.  Your father will take you to visit several schools – the ultimate choice will be yours.  But, this is happening.”

I was beside myself with rage, with desperation….and with fear.  I did not like change (still don’t!), and this was a massive one.  It took a while, but I got over myself and got eventually got ready for the trip of a lifetime.  My parents had narrowed the choices: a school in Virginia and one in Georgia. So, my dad and I, on the day after Christmas, embarked on a trip to visit both schools.

When I stepped foot on the Fishburne campus, I knew right away it was special.  I don’t know why, but it felt different.  It was small, it was old.  At the same time, it felt right.  My dad and I met with the admissions director at the time.  He was also an alumnus of the school, and he told us what my parents (and, unbeknownst to me at the time, myself) were looking for.  Discipline.  Direction.  Support.  Fishburne Military School, in it’s own unique way, offered all of that.  

We also visited the other school.  It was larger, and it was newer.  It had very nice facilities.  But, it didn’t have the same appeal, the same charm, the same sense of purpose, that Fishburne had.

We decided to go with Fishburne.  

Going to military school was a very difficult transition.  I was 1,000 miles away from anyone in the world I knew.  For the first 6 weeks, I was a Recruit At Training, a RAT, not a cadet.  This meant that I was not allowed any personal items other than clothes, books, and cleaning materials.  I had to follow additional rules, had to do additional exercises, and god forbid I didn’t carry my booklet of school rules.  I quickly learned to hate the snow after all the push-ups I had to do in it.  

It got better, though.  After 6 weeks, it was time – we were about to graduate from RAT status and become old men.  Before we could do that, however, we had a long day ahead of us.  We had to march up and down the cold Virginia roads at 4 in the morning.  We had to do pushups in the quadrangle.  After a brief reprieve with breakfast, we had to run down to the football field, which doubled as our training field, and ran sprints up and down the field.  This wore me down in ways I hope to never repeat.  

Eventually, only one obstacle remained – the RAT hill.  In all reality it wasn’t that high, but it loomed 100 stories in my head at the time, muddy all the way.  Each of us had to climb it to complete the process.  

I was last.  I could not get up.  I tried and tried, but couldn’t muster the strength to get up that final overhang.  My RAT brothers wouldn’t leave me behind, though.  Together they took off their shirts, drenched in mud, and tied them together to form a rope of sorts, and helped me get up that hill.  

The rest is history.  While it wasn’t fun and it was never easy, Fishburne pushed me to learn to overcome.  I needed guidance, and I needed discipline, and the school supported me and gave me both.  I am grateful I attended.

When I look at my backpack today, its still cluttered.  But instead of the aimless mess of my youth, it is full of what I need to do my job – my work laptop, my calculator, reports I need to review, books I need to study, etc.  Maybe I will never be organized, but, these days, I have a career.  I have purpose.