This spring, three Andover residents, Emily Barton ‘17, Annika Johnson ‘17, and Chloe Methven ‘18 are studying abroad on one of Proctor Academy’s off-campus programs. Both Annika and Chloe have recently shared blog posts for Proctor’s Web site. Their reflections on the impact of studying abroad in high school can be read below.

Annika Johnson ‘17: Life on European Art Classroom

As a lifetime resident of our little town of Andover, but still a traveler of the country and the world, I had been looking forward to every aspect of European Art Classroom since I first heard about it as a prospective Proctor student, which as a ‘faculty brat’, has really been since I was born.

Leaving home, setting out by myself as an independent individual for the longest period of time in my entire life, was as much exciting as it was daunting. It was hard to leave my family, since my dad had passed away from ALS just a week before my departure, but I knew that pushing my boundaries and exploring the wide world that was ever so readily at my fingertips was the right path, the path I needed to take.

Arriving in Aix was like stepping into a dream. Leaving rainy, cold, snowy New England and landing in this brand new world full of emerald cypress trees and red clay soil, of blackened vineyards and white limestone rocks shining in the sun, was a feeling so intense, so incredible it did not seem real.

Even now, a week and a half into the experience, it still does not quite seem real at times, but rather some wonderful illusion that could shatter at any moment. But it does not, and we continue to explore the narrow cobbled streets, dodging the moped drivers who do not fear death. We continue to meet every night for dinner, laughing our way through whatever happened that day, and learning more about each other with every passing moment. As each day goes by, we learn so much, but steadily realize we have so much more to learn.

This world has only begun to unfold before us, and we can do nothing but absorb as much as we can. Exploring the house and the surrounding trails, taking in the views of Mont Sainte Victoire, painting unnoticed in the shade of some stranger’s vineyard trees, and abandoning the American traditions we have always held in our heart in favor for the new traditions, customs, and quirks has opened our eyes more in a week than any traditional education has in four years.

Aix itself has already wormed its way into our hearts, with its fast paced drivers and slow paced dining. Life here is a wonderful blend of thrilling and comforting, with a perfect blend of new things to try every day. Adrenaline is constantly pumping through our veins, as is the lifeblood of France, which we ingest and embrace wholeheartedly. It’s hard to accept that one week is already gone.

Chloe Methven ‘18: Reflections from Mountain Classroom

We just came back from canoeing along the Colorado River. I was struck with the magnitude and expansive beauty: from the clear blue sky to the russet cliffs, down to the emerald water. Everywhere I looked I saw something that got my blood pumping a little harder. The sights made the air in my lungs feel lighter and my hands and feet would itch to get a closer look. It was hard to pick one point to look at; I was overwhelmed by the colors, sounds, textures, and smells.

When we got to our first camp, a little canyon with a warm stream that led up to a smattering of hot spring pools, all I wanted to do was climb up the wall of the canyon and see what was on the other side. So after we set up camp well away from the water line, and everyone was settled down in the shade escaping the brutal sun, I started to climb. I ran up the side of the canyon, not pausing until I was at the edge looking over at the water. I straightened myself and looked up. I lost my breath, and I think my jaw dropped open. I was looking at something out of a fairy tale.

The clear, green water meandered slowly before me, meeting the mammoth cliffs, which stretched towards the cerulean sky. I could see all the way down the river until it curved out of sight. The mountains beyond stood stoic as the sun caught the stripes of orange, red, and purple that ran across their surfaces.

I had to sit down. I sat there looking at this impossible view, breathing in and out the sweet desert air. Everything seemed to slide into place, the colors, sounds, textures, and smells seemed to melt together and create a living, breathing masterpiece.

I felt a trickle of sweat run down my back. I blinked and got up to go get the others to climb up and be able to experience the view. I looked around once more. My eyes moved slowly taking everything in as a whole, not as fragments. I smiled and called down to the others.

For the rest of the trip I made sure that I was looking at the big picture and not just the small details.