Our son encountered real wealth at Choate and honor and prestige at West Point, so he’s been immersed in a world far more rarified than ours since he was 14. To the OP, our son’s wealth influence occurred prior to college, but the question is still relevant: Did living among so many elite change him in any way? The answer, of course, is “yes” as any new experience must, but the more relevant question is “how?”
Many of the responses here focus on concerns about non-wealthy students feeling intimidated by or uncomfortable in these pools. We never heard our son talk about this either in regard to himself or other students. What he DID mention often was the kindness and collaboration among all students, the lack of bullying (which he experienced in our local school system), and the fact that you’d never know the students from the wealthiest families by looking at them. I believe many of those students found their family names/circumstances more burden than blessing and just wanted to fit in as “regular” kids. On the other end, if you looked like you were seeking status, that was a sure indicator you didn’t have it, and these kids were savvy enough to make this distinction and avoid telling behaviors.
But, boarding school differs from college in significant ways: the student bodies are smaller (Choate is around 850 students), the incoming classes are highly curated for diversity at all levels and mined for traits that correlate with independence, confidence, and academic success, and the school itself is quite aware of its history and privilege and makes a concerted effort to ensure that all students are able to participate fully in the life of the school. For instance, Choate has a “Beyond the Classroom” fund to provide students with things and experiences not covered by tuition/financial aid, and the school culture and activities are designed to ensure that no one is left out or falls between the cracks.
But, do students seek this help?
We certainly taught our son to advocate for himself in general, but boarding school took it to another level. The school expected students to seek help proactively, whether in the classroom or out, for academics, sports, and health. Teachers, advisors, and coaches impressed on students that seeking help was a sign of strength, not weakness, and that the ability to advocate for one’s needs was as important as any classroom lesson. The school also made that help clear and readily available. By senior year, these students were polished, confident in their skins, and expert at navigating their worlds. So, by the time they entered their various colleges, they were the students @blossom describes.
I am not posting this unaware that wealth itself was behind all these lessons our son learned even if that wealth did not come from his parents. A high school with close to a half-billion dollar endowment has the ability to provide immersive lessons beyond the classroom and help its students understand where and how they fit in the larger world and what responsibility the privilege of that education requires. I will never forget the headmaster’s speech during revisit days warning potential new students that they had better not dare consume a quarter of a million dollars of this world’s goods (education) without considering the weight of that consumption. This message—“To him whom much has been given, much is expected”—was part of the school culture, and we think our son’s choice of military service was partly a response to that ever-present message.
So, yes, living among the privilege, opportunities, and expectations of wealth did influence our son deeply, but his response to it was one of humility, service, and deferred gratification, not any form of consumerism.