
Finding Home Away from Home: Our Journey to Garenne International SchoolIt’s been exactly one year since we packed our lives into three suitcases and moved to the French-speaking part of Switzerland. I still remember the knot in my stomach during that first week. Was it the right decision? Were we being selfish by uprooting them, or were we giving them the world? When we started looking for schools, the brochures all looked the same—shiny buildings, smiling children, vague promises of "excellence." But what we really needed wasn’t just a curriculum; we needed a place that felt safe. That’s how we stumbled upon Garenne international school. It wasn’t the biggest name on the list, but something about the way they spoke about individual attention clicked with us. The Myth of the Big Prestige versus The Reality of Small ClassesI’ll be honest, I had doubts about boarding school. The idea of my ten-year-old sleeping away from home sounded terrifying at first. I imagined cold corridors and strict matrons. But visiting La Garenne changed that narrative completely. The first thing you notice isn’t the architecture, it’s the silence. Not an empty silence, but a calm one. And the size of the classes. Seriously, eight to twelve kids? In our previous public school, there were thirty-five. Thirty-five! How could any teacher possibly know that child who sits in the back and never raises their hand? Here, the teachers know everyone. They know that Lucas struggles with math but loves history. They know that Emma gets anxious before music performances. It’s not just about grades; it’s about seeing the child. We’ve seen this change in our son. He used to hide his mistakes. Now, he comes home (well, calls us on weekends) and says, "Mr. Anderson helped me figure out why I got this wrong." That shift from fear of failure to curiosity is worth more than any diploma, in my opinion.
More Than Just Books: Life in the MountainsPeople often ask me if the kids are bored. Bored? Hardly. The location plays a huge role here. Being surrounded by nature isn’t just a backdrop; it’s part of the education. Last month, our daughter went on a hiking trip in the nearby mountains. She came back muddy, tired, and absolutely glowing. She told us about learning to navigate with a map, cooking over a fire, and helping a younger student who was struggling with the climb. You can’t teach resilience in a classroom. You learn it when your legs hurt but you keep going because your friends are counting on you. The balance between structure and freedom is tricky, but they seem to have found it. The academic programs are rigorous—whether it’s the Swiss Matura, IB, or the American High School Diploma—but they don’t crush the spirit. There’s time for horse riding, for painting, for just sitting and talking. I think that’s what we were missing back home. The constant rush. Here, time seems to move differently. Slower. More intentionally.
Is It Worth the Sacrifice?Let’s not pretend it’s easy. Missing birthdays is hard. Hearing your child cry on the phone because they miss their dog is heartbreaking. There are days when I question everything. Did we make a mistake? Are they too young? But then I see the confidence growing. I see them making friends from Japan, Brazil, and Germany. I see them becoming independent, responsible, and kind. Maybe it’s not for every family. Maybe some kids need their parents’ daily presence more than others. But for us, watching our children thrive in this environment, surrounded by peers who respect differences and teachers who genuinely care, has been the best decision we’ve made. It’s not perfect. No school is. But it feels real. And right now, that’s exactly what we needed. |
