John Burkhart
OPC’72, Teacher

Becoming a coed school was a topic among students, and some faculty, for a long time; I remember wishful (and wistful ) thinking, surveys, “agitation” and conversations in the late 1960s. Most students welcomed the prospect, and had tired of “importing” dates, and actresses for drama productions. Some teachers lamented that the all-male atmosphere was not conducive to preparation for life beyond academic studies. As students in those days we assumed most of the alumni would be against such a breach in tradition; when I returned as an employee (working in the development office) I soon learned that alumni opinions were divided on the issue. All of the speculation was rendered moot when Overseers decided in favor of coeducation, arguably the third most significant metamorphosis in the school’s long history (consolidation in 1874, and moving to Pinehurst in 1925 being the big two prior changes).

Part of the study Overseers conducted in the early 1980s was to survey all of the constituencies, and for the faculty each Overseer held individual conversations with teachers. I remember that when I was asked about how coeducation would affect my teaching, I said that I treated students as individuals, not members of a group, and that I would hold every one of my students to similar standards. I was also asked what I though was an odd question, whether I could work for a female head of school. I assured the Overseer that I could do that.

The anticipation as the lead class of girls and boys came through the lower school and were about to enter the main building in middle school precipitated self-studies, workshops, and reminders that the transition would mean more than “replacing a few urinals”: the implication being that the male-only bastion was in need of serious sensitivity training. I found curious some of the contradictory assumptions bandied about. One strongly-held opinion was that the addition of girls would do much to “soften” the overall macho, sports-oriented environment; others worried that PC’s reputation as a “jock school” would overwhelm the girls and coarsen or intimidate the female students. Some wondered if the boys’ teams would ever again be competitive in the InterAc league, since our pool of athletes would be reduced, or if the addition of girls meant that we had to soften our standards to restrict male enrollment to those who would keep our teams competitive. These and other myths were bandied about during the late 1980s and early 1990s.

One of the presumptions that I soon realized was a myth was that the addition of girls to the classroom will enhance the level of discourse. In 25 years of teaching, (with the last 15 of those teaching in a coed environment) I can honestly say that coeducation has had no effect, positive or negative, on the level of participation in my classes. The liveliness of my classes depends not on gender but investment and interest level by students, male and female alike. I have taught both boys and girls who could carry or spark a discussion on their own, and I have had classes that act as though they were in meeting for worship instead of a discussion-based couse. If there has been any change in the level of discourse in my PC experience, I would have to say that students in recent years, including the best and brightest (according to board scores), tend to be much more passive than they were in the past, including my days as a student. While some of my most engaging and accomplished students have been girls, some have also been boys, and I can not attribute any difference in academic rigor, class participation or overall tone of the classroom to coeducation.

In one area the addition of girls to Penn Charter has meant a great deal to me, and that is the opportunity to coach varsity softball. The impetus for a softball program came in late 1991, when Jessica Bender and Sarah LaVan petitioned for softball as a varsity spring sport, so that girls might have more options in that season. I offered to be the assistant, “inside” coach, and when Don Mittica, an experienced and enthusiastic head coach, was hired, we embarked on what has been a significant part of many an alumna’s PC experience for what is now 13 years. Starting a season like softball on March 1 is always brutal; even if the ground is dry enough to be outside, the wind and lack of sunlight test everyone’s patience and endurance. I remember in the early days of practice hitting fly balls to outfielders and watching them scatter as if the ball was incoming ordnance. Don and I knew we had our work cut out for us, developing players who had little prior experience with varsity-level competition. After an inaugural season filled with many learning experiences, we put together 10 straight winning seasons, including an InterAc title in 1999. We played as difficult a schedule outside the league as we could put together, and on many occasions we played up to, frustrated, and beat teams who were perennial powers in their own leagues.

For me, the softball field became an extension of the classroom, as had been modeled for me by scores of PC coaches over many years. Placing challenges in front of students; offering them the opportunities to do more than they thought possible; helping them deal with defeat gracefully and maintaining perspective; and celebrating victories together that no one can ever take from us were part of the team’s curriculum. I tell the players the same thing I tell my students: no teacher or coach at PC will ever ask you to do something you are not able to do. Could I have done this as a coach of any team, boys or girls? Certainly, but there was and is something special about coaching softball at Penn Charter that kept me coming back (and made it difficult to retire this year, for medical reasons). There is a remarkable combination on our softball teams, a mix of experienced ballplayers and very hard-working raw talent. There is a refreshing serendipity almost every day at practice, and no such thing as a “game-face” on the field. I had coached boys from middle school to junior varsity teams, but the adjustments necessary in coaching softball were professionally challenging (I learned that a phrase like “shampoo” was an effective cue to remind hitters to keep their ”head and shoulders” in place before a swing) and personally rewarding (my players always appreciated home-baked cookies after a game). Although I knew the game of baseball before agreeing to this assignment, I could not anticipate what was in store for me; as with the aforementioned improvements to the building’s plumbing, learning to coach softball meant much more than teaching my players how not to “throw like a girl.”

I join my former students in their celebration of the changes at Penn Charter because their contributions made a great school better. The celebration committee asked for my personal reflections, but what coeducation has meant to me is insignificant compared to the impact it has had on the institution.