Photo Courtesy of Cassatt Boatwright/The Choate News
I was first introduced to Choate when my older brother, Wesley Boatwright ’22, started applying to high schools. He had just come home from a long and tiring high school fair and threw a stack of boarding school brochures onto my lap. Although I was only in fifth grade, I eagerly combed through the pile, certain that my future would be at one of these boarding schools. One particular pamphlet stuck out to me: Choate Rosemary Hall. Excited by its numerous Signature Programs, kind-hearted community, and location across the country, I knew that this was where I wanted to spend my four years of high school. It was a place where I could find myself and my passions. I would be surrounded by people who would change my life for the better.
It turned out, however, that this dream was more complicated than it first seemed. My brother ended up coming to Choate, as part of the Class of 2022. Two years later, the School accepted me, too, as a member of the Class of 2024. Yet, everyone expected that I would get into Choate. To my friends and family back home, I was simply following in Wesley’s footsteps, traveling down the road that he paved for me. So, while my brother received a huge celebration from my cheering parents and a going-away party with his closest friends, my acceptance, only initiated a strained debate on whether or not I should go to “Wesley’s school.” What was once an obvious choice for me turned into a hard decision. Did I want to go to a school that was no longer mine? Would Choate allow me to be my own person? Did it have space for more than one Boatwright?
After much deliberation, I decided to follow my brother to Wallingford, only to find that it was not the “place of new beginnings” that I had anticipated. My math teacher quickly recognized me as Wesley’s sister and laughed about the times she had with my brother and his friend fooling around in geometry. My golf coach talked about Wesley’s intelligence and meaningful contributions to his American Studies course, while I swung my seven iron. My third-form classmates, people who I was sure would not connect me with Wesley because they were also new students, still knew Wesley from the clubs and classes they attended with him. Within seconds of seeing my last name, faculty and students associated me with my brother. I was not Cassatt. I was Wesley Boatwright’s younger sister.
As I lay one night contemplating why I ever decided to come to this school — trying to decide whether Choate was even worth dealing with the inescapable pressure of living up to my brother’s accomplishments — I realized the only person that I wanted to confide in was him. So, I called my brother and dragged him outside late at night to tell him all about the weight of his influence and how I felt about being his sister at his school. He stopped me halfway through my confession, shaking his head. Then, he smiled.
My brother gushed on and on about how his friends and teachers who had met me were impressed by how well I was fitting in and that I was already becoming a great Choate student. I hadn’t even considered that my brother might have been going through the same thing as I had. My friends knew who he was even if I had not introduced him to them, and everywhere he went, evidently, freshmen stared at him. We laughed about our shared experiences, and I realized how lucky I was to have him at Choate.
Whenever I am homesick, I seek out my brother. If I am having a hard day, we sit somewhere and talk about friends, the stress of academics, and the pressure of attending a rigorous boarding school. He puts me in contact with his friends when I need to interview an upperclassman for The Choate News or have a question about a specific class.
Not only are we closer now than when we lived at home, but we also get to be here for each other all the time. Because of this, I realized that I am not copying my brother by coming to Choate — I am admiring him and using his example to form my own path. We are two completely different people, and Choate is big enough for both of us.
