I’ve tried to explain this to my grandkids, but their college experience and mine (1956-1960) are worlds apart. In today’s culture, the concept of In Loco Parentis is enigmatic at best, but it was real, spoken or unspoken. In its simplest terms, it meant that the college took the place of and acted as your parents, parentis. They shipped their kids off to college knowing they were in good hands. Lyndon Teachers College, like nearly all colleges and universities back then, had House Mothers to look after the girls and the all-around goings-on. Their job doesn’t even compare to today’s dorm RA. It was a different time.
Mother Wishart rode hard on the girls’ dorm which was the top two floors of Vail Manor. No boy ever set foot in that hallowed warren, that she knew about anyway. Girls were required to sign in and out of the dorm if they were going to leave campus. Parentis expected them to sign in before 10:00 pm most nights, a bit later on weekends, or they were grounded. Yup, grounded! (Do people use that term anymore?) That meant that they couldn’t leave campus for a week: no dates, no restaurants, no movies, well you get the idea.
The boys, of course, needed none of that protection, so they came and went as they wished. Why did just the girls need protection? I guess it was because there were boys in the neighborhood. It was different back then.
Why was it girls and boys and not women and men or…? It was different back then! What was really different was that nobody thought anything of it back then!
Everyone who lived in the dorms ate together during the week, at least lunch and dinner. Vail Manor had a huge living room, where people congregated around 5 PM each evening. We usually dressed for dinner, well sort of. No tie and jacket, but pressed trousers, collared shirt, maybe a nice sweater for the guys. At the appointed time, Mother Wishart would lead everyone to the dining room where dinner was served family-style. We sang grace before we sat down; “We gather together to ask the Lord’s blessing …We give you thanks, O Lord, for these…” Yes, we did! It was different back then.
The school was small back then, about 200 students. (The 1960-61 enrollment was 289.) It was, however, a strong community of friends, more than acquaintances. About 80% lived in campus housing. When you live in close quarters and eat three meals a day with the same people for four years, you have to remain friends and learn to be collegial. Many of us are still close.
The late ‘50s were the Eisenhower years. Northeastern Vermont was a quiet place; Vermont was a very different state in a very different country. But there was more flux than most admitted or realized.
Veterans were returning from Korea; they had experienced boot camp, jumped out of planes, and were older than the typical freshman away from home for the first time. It seemed silly to require them to live on campus, but they did. The streams of change were burbling. When the administration read the galley-proofs of an editorial I had written that criticized something they had done, they tried to eliminate it from the upcoming edition. Censorship pure and simple! The college Dean or President always read the galley-proofs before we went to press. It was a different time. We would have none of it. We argued and won. After all, we were an award-winning paper, recognized by the Columbia School of Journalism. The times were changing. The iron hand of parentis was losing its grip.
Vail Manor was originally named Speedwell Farms. Mr. Vail wanted to create a model dairy farm on the hill overlooking Burke Mountain and the village of Lyndonville. The very large barn that served the farm was eventually attached to the main house. At the ground level, its spacious interior served as the college’s auditorium. A boy’s dorm was on the second floor in what was originally the staff quarters, and on the third floor was one large room that accommodated a dozen or more freshmen. In my junior year, Burklyn Manor, a few miles north of Lyndon, became a boys’ dorm with bus transportation to and from the main campus throughout the day.
A faculty invested in the art and science of teaching infused a love of learning that most of its graduates took to classrooms across the state and the nation. Some went on to graduate school, earned Master’s and Doctorate degrees, became principals and superintendents, ran large segments of the Federal Department of Education, and generally contributed to the advancement of the country and the well-being of its children.
A state college acting In Loco Parentis may seem quaint today, but it created a college that was a second family for many. It provided guidance during the maturing process, and it made us better people.
Chuck Woods
Elk Grove, CA
LTC 1960