Every student, known.

Ten to twelve in a grade, one advisor for three years, and four people who will know your child by name.

Every child has a soundline.

Before sonar, sailors dropped a sounding line over the side: a rope marked in fathoms, weighted with lead. A dab of tallow pressed into the base of the weight brought up a piece of the bottom (sand, shell, mud), so they knew what was underneath, too. Only then did they set a course.

That's how we come to know your child. Not only where they are, skill by skill, but what sparks them and how deep it runs. Middle schoolers thrive when they feel seen, when the adult mentoring them truly knows what they need.

Then we set a direction together. What sparks your child becomes part of the actual work, approached with intention: the next skill, the next project, the next thing worth showing their peers and their town. That gives a student more than a written grade ever could.

We teach everything New York expects. Your child's soundline is what we build on.

Depth with direction.

Ten to twelve in a grade. Nobody's stuck in it.

Students work by skill across the school, and on Fridays the whole school builds one thing together. Small enough there's nowhere to hide, big enough for a real seminar.

One advisor, three years.

Every student has the same guide as their advisor from the day they start, in a group of ten to twelve.

Grouped by skill, not age.

A sixth grader and an eighth grader can work the same skill at the same table. Each moves on when it's mastered.

Three grades, one building.

And a grade added every year through twelfth, starting with ninth. The older students are out in town on apprenticeships.

Who's building it.

Take the survey