Winthrop Colonial

There's something especially nice about the choice of Winthrop House's new senior tutor--nice because the House derives its name from John Winthrop, governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony three centuries ago, and because this fact is so often overlooked. But no more. Benjamin W. Labaree, the new senior tutor, is that rare individual--a teacher of colonial history; and even more unlikely, his father teaches in the same field.

His father, Leonard W. Labaree, is Farnham Professor of History at Yale, presently engaged in editing the Benjamin Franklin Papers. So Labaree was born at New Haven, and thence began a journey which has led ultimately to the Winthrop House doorstep--but by the scenic route.

He attended Hotchkiss, Class of '45, and the U.S. Navy, Class of '46--the first offering a large measure of extracurricular activity, the latter those, pleasures of a heavy cruiser in peacetime duty. He then went to Yale, which afforded its own peculiar opportunities. While at Yale, for instance, Labaree shared in several abortive attempts to establish a student council, and later participated in the movement to bring the N.S.A. to New Haven (which seems ample preparation for coping with the present term at Harvard).

He majored in history and after graduation decided a year or two at Exeter would best test his desires to teach. "I strongly recommend this idea of a year or two teaching at a prep school before going to a college or university. For one thing it's economical: I saved enough in two years to finance my first year at grad school and buy a car, too. And best of all, you discover more of the true joy of teaching than you will at any college."

Labaree liked the small classes of twelve which forced the teacher to "go out more than half-way," especially in elementary courses. "The teacher must identify himself with the students more than with the subject. He has to teach the students history; he can't merely teach history to the students. There's some analogy to this in the college section, but very little in the lecture." Labaree found teaching immensely to his liking. "I guess this is the bug; once it catches on, you never give teaching up."

Thus resolved, the young teacher set out for the University--in this case Harvard--to obtain his masters: a one-year-plan which burgeoned, kept him in Cambridge for five of the past six years, and has brought him here today. After getting his masters it seemed logical to remain and study for his orals, "then write a thesis while teaching at Exeter--lots of people do this." Then, when offered a teaching-fellow position and a berth at Leverett House (where he eventually became assistant senior tutor), he stayed and finished his thesis under Oscar Handlin (by this time his field was colonial America). During these years he assisted Handlin with History 166 and History 163, and this year he gives "occasional lectures" in the Social History course.

But with his thesis completed and five years at Harvard behind him, Labaree took a welcome respite from the arid Cambridge world and in his retreat found a teaching nook at Connecticut College for Women--long and forever in need of additional unattached male talent on their staff. "I had a little place in Mystic, just far enough from the 850 females on campus." Just far enough away, that is, to minimize social pressures from the 800 students, not to mention the faculty members.

As at Exeter, classes were small, and elementary courses met in many sections (the lecture system remains alien to their culture). The girls proved interesting to teach, "a conscientious bunch, though as a group not so bright as the Radcliffe students." As for the obvious enticement for a bachelor, Labaree's plans for a June marriage with a Vassar-Wellesley girl assert his freedom from the law of proximity.

And now he's back at Harvard, a man with many interests and a score of hobbies. Tall, lean, athletic, he sails quite a bit--"coastal cruising, that is"--and has from an early age. "I was almost born in Nantucket--missed it by three weeks. My family and I have always frequented the place." And when the wind blows cold and slush piles up along the coast, Labaree takes to the New England hills and skis ("with more enthusiasm than skill, I'm afraid").

He actively edits an historical quarterly put out by the Essex Institute in Salem, and is currently writing a book of his own--to be a study of Newburyport during and after the American Revolution.

Also--and residents in Winthrop's J-entry be warned--he has assembled a hi-fi set of amazing amplitude, easily capable of penetrating fire-doors, plaster walls, bathrooms and closets. And when he buys another tuner the set will achieve true stereo adulthood. "I love music, and have always been a follower of the B.S.O. And the Owens have even introduced to me the glory that is jazz."

The Owens, by the way, have known Labaree virtually all his life. Professor Owen and Leonard Labaree were colleagues at the Yale grad school, and later on the history faculty at New Haven. "We saw more of the Labarees than any other couple, in New Haven or down at Nantucket; and in a way I was worried about having someone so close to me on my staff. Then, too, he's an historian, which makes four housemasters and four senior tutors in the field. But I certainly am happy we have him."

Indeed, everyone has been happy with Labaree. He was deemed "outstanding" at Exeter, the same at C.C.W. He's popular as a teacher--efficient, outgoing, enthusiastic--and they were certainly happy with him at Leverett House. So all indications point to general happiness at Winthrop House. After all, he drives a foreign car!