As I gripped the frigid copper doorknob at Buckingham Browne and Nichols (BB&N), I felt a shiver—not just from the December cold, but from the anticipation of stepping into one of Massachusetts’ top private schools. The chill vanished as I entered and was greeted by a friendly security administrator and a group of young girls with radiant smiles. The day began as part of a journalism swap between The Newtonite and BB&N’s The Vanguard. The opportunity to observe life at a school often associated with privilege and prestige was exciting, but I couldn’t shake the unusual feeling of being judged as someone from a public school stepping into this exclusive world.
North’s hallways in between classes often feel like highways during rush hour—loud, chaotic, and a little overwhelming. BB&N had a different energy, more like a calm kayak ride down the Charles River, which, fittingly, serves as the school’s backdrop. From the small class sizes, averaging 12 students, to the elegant wooden furnishings and gourmet lunches, everything about BB&N promotes quality. As I walked the halls, I could not help but feel like I was living out the pages of a glossy brochure. However, the quality experience this brochure advertises comes with a hefty price tag as high as $63,700 per year.
Is it worth it? That question loomed over my day at BB&N, coloring every observation.
My first class was African American Studies, where ten students sat around an oval oak discussion table. The teacher guided the conversation while seated alongside the students at the outer edge of the oval table, creating a close-knit and engaging atmosphere. The course followed an Advanced Placement U.S. History (APUSH) style curriculum, offering students AP credit and preparation for the spring APUSH exam, but the class content was uniquely taught through the lens of Black Americans—a perspective I found both compelling and thought-provoking. The class felt very similar to my experience with APUSH at North, with its fast-paced curriculum delving into primary and secondary sources, lectures, and more. However, as the students prepared for their mid-year exams, one major difference stood out: they already knew the in-class essay prompts and had been provided with detailed study guides by their teacher .In contrast, my experience with AP U.S. History at North is much more independent, as we’re expected to create our own study plans and brainstorm potential questions on our own.
The history classroom itself, with its warm wood accents and single discussion table, felt more like a boardroom than a traditional high school class. It was a stark contrast to the lecture-based, note-taking history classes I’ve grown used to. While BB&N fosters success by preparing students with initiatives like second-semester internships and passion projects for seniors instead of regular classes, North emphasizes self-sufficiency, encouraging students to manage their own schedules and academic progress.
Between classes, we walked through an outdoor passageway that required students to swipe their school-issued IDs. It was my transitions from class to class that I noticed another difference. BB&N students wore school-branded merchandise like nice quarterzips or polished, dressy casual outfits. There were no sweatpants, pajama bottoms, or oversized hoodies—an everyday staple at North.
My next stop was a Latin class. Although I didn’t understand the material, the class gave me insight into BB&N’s structure. This class, considered “large” for the school, had 14 students. The teacher stood at the front, guiding the lesson while occasionally cold-calling students. This was the only class I attended where phones were strictly prohibited and placed in a bucket at the front of the room—contrasting with North’s no phone policy in classrooms.
As we walked to my next class, I chatted with senior Chloe Taft, The Vanguard’s editor-in-chief. She shared some insights into BB&N’s academic policies. For example, if a student receives a grade significantly lower than their typical GPA, an advisor steps in to check on them. If someone who normally receives A’s earns a B-, or if a student who typically receives C’s earns an F, the school reaches out to ensure they’re okay, she explained. Chloe also mentioned that The Vanguard is funded by the school, meaning the administration reviews the paper’s articles and covers the printing costs. In contrast, The Newtonite is funded through advertisements, granting students full control over what we publish.
My final two classes of the day were calculus and honors precalculus. The calculus class, with 16 students, had a relaxed vibe. What surprised me most was when students told me they had convinced their teacher to turn a difficult exam into a collaborative class test on the day of the exam. I could not imagine that happening in my math class at North. Precalculus, on the other hand, had only six students. Each worked individually on advanced problems at whiteboards lining the walls, while the teacher rotated through the room, offering one-on-one guidance. It felt more like a private tutoring session than a typical class.
But the biggest surprise of the day came in the cafeteria. While BB&N students downplayed their lunches, the spread was unlike anything I‘ve seen in a public school. Pork tenderloin roast, garlic mashed potatoes, a vibrant salad bar with blackened chicken, homemade dressings, and ceramic plates with navy accents. It felt more like dining at a bistro than eating in a school cafeteria.
One week later, I hosted BB&N junior Ayana Kurkith, The Vanguard’s Off-Campus Editor, at North. When asked about the differences, she said, “There were not actually many. The biggest shocker was just the size of the student population. Your class size is the size of our entire school.” She also praised North’s variety of electives, saying, “It’s so cool that you have niche classes like automotive or culinary. It’s clear North tries to offer something for everyone.”
Reflecting on my day at BB&N, I could not stop asking myself if I would want to attend. Sure, BB&N offers smaller class sizes, individualized attention, and a polished atmosphere. But North provides students with a multitude of paths to explore their interests and grow, whether in academics, arts, or trades.
Ultimately, I think the appeal of private schools like BB&N lies in their promise of success. They are like that carefully steered kayak, ensuring every student stays afloat and moves forward, with no room for error. Public schools like North, on the other hand, are more like the open Charles River itself—full of possibilities, but requiring you to chart your own course. Both have their merits, but my day at BB&N reminded me that what truly matters is the heart of education: students, their passions, and the teachers who guide them.
