There should be some oases in this country where the love of tradition is fostered. Avon shall be one of these oases where, when Avonians return, they will find at least a semblance of permanence.
-Theodate Pope Riddle

Tuesday, February 26, 2019

Avon and the War


Recently, our Archivist, Dawn Driggs, left a few things aside for me to look at before she filed them away, and one of them is a pamphlet called Avon and the War. It presents itself as a summary of how the school was responding to the reality of World War II and how it was preparing students for their war-time futures. Of course there were additions to the curriculum, such as "a Pre-Flight Course" and a "Basic Officer's Training Course in Mathematics." There were new topics in old courses, as well. "In History," it says, "the subjects of global geography, the economic and other causes of the war, the mistakes of the last peace ... are among the topics receiving special emphasis."  

Note the name: The Avon School

All of that makes sense, of course, but this paragraph in particular caught my eye: Avon's unusual form of student government has assumed added significance during these war days. The entire school is organized as the Village of Old Farms, with its own law and courts, its own post office and bank, and with a government based on that of the New England township. The Student Council levies taxes, grants charters, floats bond issues, preserves the peace, promotes the public welfare - in fact deals with all everyday concerns outside the academic field. This form of student government is excellent training for citizenship and democracy. By actual contact with civic affairs and the assumption of genuine responsibilities, a boy becomes familiar with the workings of government and with the problems he must understand if later he is to take an active, intelligent interest in the welfare of his own community.

With the exception of the first sentence, this paragraph might have appeared in any Founder's Era school publication. Indeed, in many ways, this paragraph neatly captures Theodate Pope Riddle's progressive approach to education, which called for education by doing - an active approach which today would include making and experiential learning. While it might seem hardly surprising that a school publication would emphasize an educational philosophy dear to TPR's heart, note the name of the school. This was a document published by The Avon School and attributed to W. Brooke Stabler, Rector.

Within a few years, Stabler would resign his position and urge the entire faculty to do the same; when they did, TPR felt she had no choice but to close the school. Within the school community, there were those - my father was one - who felt that the Reverend Mr. Stabler was responsible for the rift with TPR, but the larger group - it included my grandmother - put the blame squarely on Mrs. Riddle. The latter group felt that TPR was meddlesome and overbearing, and that she created conditions under which Mr. Stabler could not be expected to continue - nor could anyone else. I mention all of this because the pamphlet Avon and the War serves as a reminder that Stabler was able to make a number of significant changes at school - including changing the name of the school - which leads me to wonder how tied his hands really were.

Tuesday, February 12, 2019

The Times, They Are A-Changin'

It has been a long time since this blog was truly active; indeed, I've not posted more than twice in a year since 2013. In those few posts, I frequently complain about not having enough time to commit to this project.
Aspirando et Perseverando
That is about to change. Jim Detora, who will become headmaster this summer, has asked me to move to a new role for next year, and the focus of that new role will be ... school history. Anticipating the school's centennial in 2027, I will be working on an updated narrative history of the school and helping to plan and prepare for the various centennial celebrations and events. I will also be spending a great deal of time in the archives, so I will be immersed in school history for many hours a day. Instead of my day job keeping me away from this project, my day job will include this project.
Do not expect the blog to leap back into regular production right away. I need to keep focused on the work I am in at the moment. It is safe to say, though, that there will be a few more posts between now and summer; and then, the work begins.

Monday, January 28, 2019

Heady Times at Avon

Note: I wrote this post in September and then clearly got distracted by my "day job." As the next post will explain, that is about to change!

This morning, Monday the 24th of September, Board of Directors Member Chris Drew '85 announced on behalf of the board the selection of Jim Detora to succeed Ken LaRocque as headmaster. The morning meeting announcement was greeted with thunderous applause from the assembled students, faculty and staff, and Jim spoke briefly and graciously about his vision for Avon Old Farms.

Karen and Jim Detora
I cannot claim to have been an unbiased or dispassionate observer. Jim and I have been colleagues for a quarter of a century, and we have worked closely together during much of that time. When Jim was appointed academic dean (there was only one in those days), I was dean of faculty, and as the only academic administrators we had plenty of occasion to collaborate. Some years later, Jim joined me as co-dean of faculty, and we literally shared a job description. When Jim became the provost (chief academic officer) and I moved to dean of curriculum and instruction, we continued to work closely together. So it is in that context that I say bravo to the search committee; you have chosen wisely.

Of course, this is not the first time the board of directors has been successful selecting the headmaster. The more I study school history, the more I am convinced that each of the three men who have served in that capacity since World War II proved to be exactly what the school needed in that moment. Don Pierpont and George Trautman, though very different in many ways, are both excellent examples of the man and the moment being right for each other. So is Ken LaRocque.

Ken LaRocque
I will wax lyrical about Ken in many a future post, I assume. My point in this one is that Jim Detora's appointment as Ken's successor both invites us to look forward to the future with optimism and allows us to savor the last year of Ken's tenure and to celebrate his accomplishments. Had the board lingered over the selection, or chosen someone less obviously right for the job, we might have spent this school year apprehensively eying the future. As it is, the future has been secured, and we can now spend this year "in the moment" - celebrating the accomplishments of Jim Detora's predecessor.