Remembering the Merger

Remembering the Merger

BY HILARY CARLSON, UPPER SCHOOL FACULTY (1969–1997)

In the late 1960s, early '70s, many schools and colleges were becoming co-ed. Kent and Denver Country Day were part of that trend. Yale and Princeton admitted relatively small numbers of first-year women in 1969. In 1971, Pembroke ceased to exist as a college; all students admitted were going to Brown University. Similarly, in 1973 Abbot Academy became part of a merged school in Andover called Phillips Academy, which had been the ancient name of the boys’ school. The issue of what to call merged institutions was always fraught; often the name of the girls’ school was sacrificed. But not at Kent Denver Country Day School; we kept that mouthful.

Fussing over what to call a school would have been funny if it had not been so serious. The first stationery for the new school in 1974 read “Kent Denver Country Day School,” with a red dot between the names in the middle of the line. Nice, except no typewriter (yes, we used typewriters then) could make a dot of any color in the middle of the line. So we were “Kent Denver Country Day School” (all in black). But as Mike Churchman pointed out—when he no longer needed to be circumspect and lived far away in Virginia—it wasn’t even an honest name: there was still boarding for girls, and we were not located in Denver.

Then we needed school colors and a logo, which, amazingly enough, have lasted. DCD’s color was deep red; Kent’s was a lovely, but hard to reproduce, soft blue green. We settled on a simple, patriotic red and blue.

How is the school known today? Its official name, since 1987, is Kent Denver School. In the years following the merger, Kent faculty members were rebuked for saying “Kent” without “Denver Country Day.” And similarly chided were those who referred to “DCD.” This fuss seemed really important at that time when the school was creating a new identity.

Truth is the schools had been merging before they merged. There were shared facilities, coordinated classes, a single business office, and, already, an identical daily schedule. Students were way ahead of faculty in embracing the new configuration.

Worries about “girls being overshadowed by boys” or the “pioneering spirit of DCD being quashed” were concerns of adults, not students. As the two faculties began to trust and appreciate each other, the school became a stronger one—athletically, artistically, financially and even academically.

What about graduation? Graduation Day would be both symbol and challenge. Luckily both schools took advantage of the beautiful May/June mornings in Colorado and had Commencement outside. So, we knew where to have the ceremony. Each school had a few “graduation prizes,” including one named for Miss Bogue and another awarded to the “ideal DCD boy.” We kept them as they were; slowly others were added, and in 1997 the faculty modified them so there was gender equity and less gender stereotyping. Beautifully wrapped books and newly engraved bowls and trophies were awarded as part of the ceremony. Eventually the awarding of prizes moved to the afternoon before graduation in the new air-conditioned Anschutz Family Theater. A relief for all.

Those of us who planned for the new Kent Denver were more worried about offending folks committed to Kent or DCD than we were able to think of “traditions.” Kent had rich traditions, but in the middle '70s they seemed too “girly” for women who wanted to be taken seriously. Too bad at least some of them did not survive. And some of the DCD rituals ignored state laws; that couldn’t continue. Students wrote a constitution in which much governance was shared by students and teachers. ('70s idealism.) Pranks and senior skip days were embraced. There were also experiments with “experiential learning” and a January term. We kept looking for better ways to educate teenagers.

The most impressive initiative was the Middle School. The Kent School buildings could accommodate the college prep high school program, so the less traditional spaces of Denver Country Day were available for a new kind of 7th and 8th grade curriculum. In the '60s and '70s, much was being written about the mismatch between classrooms and the developmental needs of young adolescents. Bert Moore, Head of the newly merged school, was eager for Kent Denver to be part of this educational reform. He trusted the energetic and idealistic young faculty, under the leadership of Blair Handley Jenkins, age 28, to create a model middle school. And so, they did. Today’s commitment to emotional growth in addition to academic rigor can be traced back to that middle school.

“When we first saw her she was nervous and blushed a great deal, a trait which we delighted in exploiting. Five years and several major changes later find her managing great masses of people and not blushing at all. Throughout these five years she has always been ready to care and unafraid to show it.”

- 1976 yearbook dedication to Blair Jenkins

BLAIR HANDLEY JENKINS Middle School faculty (1971–76)

The creation of these new coeducational institutions was messy and often divisive. Ours was tidier than most. Perhaps it is symbolic that this Centennial celebrates a remarkable little school founded by three women and its embrace of a small boys’ school similarly committed to independent education. We became one school because we could imagine a future better than the past. The optimism of Kent and of Denver Country Day lives on at Kent Denver.

These stories can finally be told

GLENN ABRAMS '75, KENT DENVER’S FIRST ALL-SCHOOL PRESIDENT, REFLECTS ON THE FIRST YEAR AS A CO-ED SCHOOL

At the time Kent and DCD merged, boys and girls had already had a few years to grow accustomed to attending classes together, but finding an indoor space large enough for the full student body to meet all together had become a priority. A clever but slightly controversial solution: enclosing the former Kent School central courtyard. This ended up creating a great common meeting space (today’s Bogue Commons) where the entire student body could gather. I recall one student project for the Common Room was the construction of a six-sided 8 foot tall information kiosk where we could post flyers and posters announcing school activities. However, its diameter had been designed slightly too wide, so when the team tried to tilt the finished kiosk up into place it was so tall it jammed up against the ceiling. A great lesson in team design and practical geometry.

When we were seniors I still remember how individual faculty, and even the Head of School, were surprisingly trusting and would go out of their way to create unique experiences for students that went way beyond the regular day-to-day curriculum. Even after 50 years, I don’t think those principles have changed—and these stories can finally be told.

Science teacher Mr. Roberts lent a couple of students his scuba tanks so we could experience diving in the upper lake after school. I still remember settling my back on the lake bottom while looking up at the sun-splashed surface and marveling at being able to breathe freely under water for the first time ever.

Always witty, entertaining and thoughtful, Hilary Carlson and Dick Drew embodied the co-ed spirit of the newly merged schools as they team-taught a new history/English course that included the French Revolution and highlighted A Tale of Two Cities. Yeah. It was the best of times.

Creative writing instructor Tom Graesser, who in his efforts to inspire creativity, famously made us carry a single lemon around for a week— wherever we went, 24 hours a day. The only caveat was that if asked why, we couldn’t tell anyone the truth. Unfortunately my lemon, whom I will call Alexander Jr., became painfully dry and tough due to all the handling and sadly died an ignoble death while performing his famous sword swallowing act. But not to worry. We made lemonade.