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.

Peter Evans

Apparently, I have not posted to this blog in over two years! It is fitting that the last post concerned the first Intersession, because I tend to blame my Day Job for the crickets emanating from this space for so long. It is time to change that, and I will begin with what I fear is the first of many: a tribute to a pillar of the Avon community who has retired/is retiring after many decades at school. There is a cohort of "lifers" that has been slowly moving toward retirement, and the leading edge has arrived at the door. When he retired at the end of last (school) year, Peter Evans took a plunge that more than half a dozen others are likely to take in the next several years, beginning with Ken LaRocque at the end of this school year.

Peter Evans, H '18

Peter Evans was the first faculty member I met when I moved onto campus in the fall of '82. The night before the opening faculty meetings, as the new faculty were moving into our quarters, Pete and Sue made the rounds to greet us and welcome us to Avon. That was typical of Pete and Sue. Pete had a lot of titles at school; master teacher of history, athletic director, director of college counseling, assistant headmaster, and director of development is not an exhaustive list. One of the reasons he excelled in all those roles was that he was a people person, and he was attentive to the little things. Greeting new faculty was not explicitly part of his job description, but he and Sue wanted to be sure we felt welcome.

Pete is brilliant, he is eloquent, and he is meticulous; beyond that, he truly cares. To talk to Pete is to be convinced that you are the only thing in his world in that instant and that your happiness and success are foremost on his mind. That is what colleagues felt when he spoke with us, and that is what students felt. It is easy to listen to a man who clearly genuinely cares about you. If all that is not enough, Pete is relentlessly optimistic. No matter what the situation, count on Pete to identify the positive, or at very least the potential for positive, that comes from it. For almost half a century, Pete applied that signature combination intelligence, planning, optimism and care to All Things Avon Old Farms, and we as a school - and we as people - are infinitely better off because of it.

I will stop there, because, try as I might, I am not really able to capture what Pete (and Sue!) Evans have meant to Avon Old Farms; fortunately, this video does:

Yea Rah!

Avon has recently concluded its first "Intersession," a week in which we suspend the normal academic program, and students and faculty devote their attention to only one of thirty non-traditional courses. My own offering was called "Exploring AOF History," and the idea was that students would delve deeply into a particular aspect of school history and create something that might help the school celebrate its centennial. Not surprisingly, the boys chose to investigate the history of sports at Avon. They got to explore the archives, they interviewed two Avon headmasters and several coaches, and they learned about Avon's traditions in polo, fencing, and jiu jitsu. They also discovered this photograph.

We had a lot of fun discussing what the story of this picture might be, but we learned the truth in conversation with Peter Evans and George Trautman. It seems it was part of a mid-seventies effort to drum up school spirit. Some of the boys recruited girls they knew to serve as cheerleaders and create an enthusiastic atmosphere at games. It was a short-lived experiment, but perhaps it worked. Could it have led directly to the  Avon Army?

Thank You, Reed

This year, George Trautman used his Vespers talk to pay tribute to F. Reed Estabrook '36, who served for many years as Chairman of the Board of Directors. George characterized Reed as "the second most important person" in the history of the school (after TPR), and I doubt there are many who would disagree.
Reed was among those who were instrumental in the re-opening of the school in 1948, and he was the youngest member of the Board at that time. Avon had no money and no endowment in those years, and Reed would prove to be an invaluable counselor to Don Pierpont and then George Trautman as they worked to keep the ship afloat. George noted the incredible growth of the school since '48 and observed that the strong position we now occupy would be part of Reed Estabrook's legacy. Mr. Trautman offered some insight into the relationship between the headmaster and chairman when recalled the story of a student's death on the playing fields. Losing the boy had left George essentially numb, and it was Reed Estabrook who pulled him aside and convinced him he had to keep going.
It was a fitting tribute to a man who gave tirelessly to his school and who would come to campus at the drop of a hat. For some reason, as soon as George began to speak about Reed, I was overwhelmed by the memory of how students enjoyed Reed's accent, especially when, having been introduced by the headmaster at some formal function, Reed would step to the podium and say "Than you, George." I remember more than once walking out of such an assembly behind students endless repeating "Thank you, George" in their best Boston accents.
This year, it was George's turn to say "Thank you, Reed."

Another Snippet About TPR

In late April, I had a first appointment with a new doctor, and it turned out that he had lived for some time in a house that was once part of the Hill-Stead property and had met a number of people with first-hand experience of TPR.  The one anecdote he told comes from TPR's attorney, whom the good doctor got to know well. It seems TPR and her attorney were returning to Hill-Stead in her car when they came upon a couple of town officials who were looking at the sharp turn on Mountain Road near the Hill-Stead entrance.  When TPR stopped to find out what they were up to, they suggested there might be a way to make the turn safer but that it would require that TPR yield a small piece of property.  TPR turned to her attorney and asked "Do I have to do this?"  When he responded that she did not, she turned to the two officials and said simply "no."
So what does this anecdote tell us? I suppose it is encouraging to those inclined to think of TPR as overbearing and difficult to deal with.  Certainly it reinforces the notion that she was strong-willed and decisive, but we knew that already.   We also knew she was eccentric, which raises a number of questions for me.  First is the classic question about TPR and her era: did she somehow drive away three Provosts and two entire faculties and in so doing force her school to close?  Second is what does "eccentric" mean in the context of a strong-willed woman in the early twentieth century?
So what about this idea that TPR was overbearing, perhaps overly meddlesome, and the trials of the Founder's Era were entirely of her own creation?  Certainly there were those in her day who took that view.  Cal Magruder '46 reports that the perception among students in '44 was that the troubles came as result of disputes between TPR and Brooks Stabler, and the faculty and students collectively sided with Stabler.  Of course, like most Founder's Era alumni, Cal also reports he did not see much of TPR and that she was not a presence on campus.
By the way, the good doctor has since moved out of the house that was once part of Hill-Stead, but he now lives in Devonwood, which was of course once part of the school property, so in some ways he simply traded one former TPR estate for another.

Twilight Zone

Recently, I visited a class taught by new colleague Paul Duwan '85 and had a "Twilight Zone" experience.  This was one of Paul's younger classes (he also teaches economics to seniors), and that day he was introducing the Renaissance.  As I sat in class, I realized that when I first introduced the Renaissance to a class, Paul was one the students.  Paul is not the first of my students to become a colleague, but I believe this is the first time I have seen the roles reversed so completely

Paul Duwan '85 teaching A.P. Economics

The sense of deja vu continued a few days later when Chandra Narsipur visited the campus.  Chandra taught history at Avon for over twenty-five years, and one of his first students here was Paul Duwan. Indeed, Paul was quick to greet and visit with Chandra at lunch, and when Peter Evans joined us, Paul was having lunch with three of his four Avon history teachers; only Seth Mendell was missing.

Chandra Narsipur

Indeed, having Paul at lunch with Chandra and Peter provided a sense of continuity for the history department - a semblance of permanence, if you will.

Pete Seeger '36 - An Appreciation

If the world seems like a slightly colder, darker place today, it is because Pete Seeger '36 died yesterday at the age of 94.

Pete Seeger '36 in Brown Auditorium, 2008

Of course, Pete was a giant in folk music. He wrote, or had a hand in writing, such folk standards as Where Have All the Flowers Gone, If I Had A Hammer, Turn, Turn, Turn, and We Shall Overcome, among many, many others. Pete’s music always had a social conscience. In his early years, he sang the songs of the Labor Movement with the Almanac Singers and then The Weavers. He also consistently lent his voice (and his banjo) to the struggles for Civil Rights {We Shall Overcome}, Peace {Bring ‘Em Home} and Environmental Responsibility {Sailing Down My Golden River}. For many, his Vietnam-era songs such as “Waist Deep in the Big Muddy” are particularly poignant today.

Frankly, however, the category “Things To Admire In Pete Seeger’s Life” contains much more than musical brilliance and socially conscious songs. Throughout his life, Pete demonstrated extraordinary courage and commitment to justice. In the 50s, he stood up to the notorious House Committee on Un-American Activities, telling them  I am not going to answer any questions as to my associations, my philosophical or religious beliefs or my political beliefs, or how I voted in any election, or any of these private affairs. I think these are very improper questions for any American to be asked, especially under such compulsion as this. I would be very glad to tell you my life if you want to hear of it.  A Just Man living in an Unjust Society, Pete was ultimately convicted of Contempt of Congress, sentenced to a year in jail, and blacklisted for 17 years. In the 60s, Pete decided to launch a campaign to clean up the Hudson River. Using the sloop Clearwater as his platform, he has succeeded to a remarkable degree – mostly by calling attention to the problem and by inspiring a grass-roots movement in response.

Pete Seeger changed millions of lives with his music and his activism. He did it without compromising his values and without fear for his own reputation or safety; he did it with boundless optimism and the conviction that there is nothing the people cannot accomplish, and he did it by bringing people together, recognizing the value in each of us and in all of us, and by inspiring us with his commitment, his vision, and his song.

In Pete Seeger's life there is much much for us to admire, to celebrate, and to seek to emulate. The world is in fact a better, brighter place because of him.