11 minute read

for food, for friendship . . .

The Enduring Value of Sit-Down Meals

by Lori Ferguson

Director of Food Services Mike McCarthy distinctly remembers his first sit-down meal at Deerfield. The year was 1998, and he had recently been hired. “My boss said, ‘You need to come in and watch a meal being served,’” he remembers. “As it turns out, that meal was Thanksgiving dinner, and anyone familiar with Deerfield sit-downs knows that we go all out for the holiday—turkey, stuffing, all the sides, apple pie—the whole deal. After seeing the enormity of that undertaking, I went home and told my wife, ‘I think I made a mistake,’” he recalls with a chuckle, “but 25 years later, I’m still here, and still impressed by all we accomplish at the table.” McCarthy’s experience could be a metaphor for Deerfield’s distinctive sit-down meal tradition itself—after all these years, it’s still here and it’s still vital to the fabric of the school.

The practice began with legendary Headmaster Frank Boyden, who led the Academy from 1902 to 1968. Mr. Boyden instituted formal sit-down meals in 1921 in Hitchcock House—currently the Academy bookstore. Prior to that, John Williams House—home of the Deerfield Door—in addition to serving as the Academy’s first dormitory, also housed a small “dining hall.” As the Academy grew, so too did the need for space, and Mr. Boyden recognized another opportunity to gather his students together. “He saw the campus community as an extended family,” explains Academy Archivist Anne Lozier, “and viewed shared meals as a vital part of the family experience.”

Mr. Boyden was, in many ways, a visionary. Current conventional wisdom—as well as decades of research—support the idea that regularly gathering around a “family table” offers children and teens a wide variety of benefits, such as higher self-esteem and self-confidence, a lower risk for depression, and better academic performance.

In his famed book on Mr. Boyden, The Headmaster, author John McPhee ’49 recounts the longtime leader’s view on the matter. “I’m not running this school for the faculty,” Boyden noted. “I’m running it for the boys.” That meant that faculty were expected to interact with students at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, notes McPhee, as well as in the classroom, in clubs, and in athletics. “While other prep schools like Andover and Exeter emphasized schoolwork, Deerfield accentuated residential life,” observes Brian P. Cooke in his book Frank Boyden of Deerfield: The Vision and Politics of an Educational Idealist. “All Deerfield meals, including breakfast, were served by a faculty member ‘family style.’”

In the intervening years, some expectations for sit-down meals have been adjusted, a reflection of a growing student body and increased societal pace, but Deerfield’s commitment to a shared experience remains firm. “Sit-downs used to be a standard part of the American boarding school experience,” notes Head of School John Austin. “But over time, many schools have reduced or eliminated their sit-down meal requirements—logistically, they’re challenging for the dining hall staff to manage and they require faculty members’ presence at odd times of the day.” Nevertheless, says Austin, Deerfield has held onto the tradition because of its unique ability to strengthen the bonds of community. “Bringing adults and children together for meals regularly encourages connections between individuals who otherwise might not meet,” he maintains. “In a school as diverse as Deerfield, sit-downs provide us with a great way to encourage connections outside of one’s social group.”

These days, Deerfield students come together for sit-down lunches on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday and sit-down dinners on Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday. (During the Winter Term, Tuesday and Thursday sit-down dinners are eliminated to accommodate athletic schedules and, in the spring, the normal schedule resumes.) Typically, nine students and a faculty member sit at each table; table assignments last for one month and are changed seven to eight times per year, allowing each student to dine with 70 to 80 different individuals over the course of the year.

Student Life Associate Kevin Kelly acts as the majordomo for all meals and is a strong believer in their power. “I’ve worked at boarding schools where there were no sit-down meals at all, and social circles remain consistent. It’s human nature—you tend to gravitate toward those you know from classes, dorms, or teams.” Deerfield’s formalized sit-down process encourages much more intermingling, he says.

Using a software program called ‘The Perfect Table,’ Kelly creates randomized seating assignments for the Academy’s 655 students, filling each of the dining hall’s 70 tables with a mix of individuals from different grade levels. He begins by placing first waiters—students responsible for setting the table—and second waiters—those responsible for clearing the meal—at each table, then taps the software to seat the remaining students at random. “It’s a process —it typically takes me four to five days to produce a seating chart for the month— but the software makes it much easier.” Prior to computers, seating plans were organized using index cards, notes Kelly incredulously. Today, software makes it much easier to keep track of each student’s assignments as well as their fulfillment of required waitstaff duties— each must act as a table server twice during the year.

In addition to organizing the monthly seating chart, Kelly also oversees each gathering. He offers the standard Deerfield grace at the beginning of the meal (For food, for friendship, for the blessings of the day, we give thanks.), then students and faculty are free to eat and converse.

“I love being with the kids,” says John Austin. “As head of school, it’s an opportunity for me to ask questions, get a read on their concerns, and gauge how they’re feeling.”

Assistant Head of School for Student Life Amie Creagh is similarly enthusiastic. “I like that I get to spend time with kids that I wouldn’t otherwise meet. These encounters are where little seeds are planted that grow into a greater sense of community.” And the food is excellent, she adds. “Building relationships while eating good food— it doesn’t get any better.”

Students embrace the conviviality of the experience, too. “One of my most memorable sit-down meals occurred on my revisit day in the spring of 2016,” recalls Liv Mikesell ’20. “I had been nervous all day, and then I sat down at Ms. (Dana) Emerson’s table and received the warmest of welcomes. The meal that day was broccoli fettuccine alfredo with raspberry thumbprint cookies. The combination of the comfortable conversation and the warm meal cemented the idea of Deerfield being the right place for me.”

For McCarthy and his team, the gatherings are simultaneously exhausting and exhilarating. “We feed over 650 people a family-style meal, and we’re a scratch kitchen—we peel potatoes, cook vegetables, bake pies, the whole gamut—so it’s a lot,” he concedes. “But I love to watch a full dining room. You see kids take the initiative and develop a sense of teamwork and responsibility. Whether it’s the waiters setting or clearing the table or the ten or so students who help us in the dish room during the cleaning rush, everyone pitches in.”

And the din of dining room conversations is equally enlivening, McCarthy continues. “The chatter that goes on in the room is terrific. I love seeing the diversity of the tables, the engagement between students and faculty, all of it.”

At meal’s end, Kelly opens the floor for community announcements. “Ten to fifteen students come to the podium at the end of each meal, providing news of plays, concerts, sporting events, and the like,” he explains. “Some announcements are funny, some are heartfelt. It’s a brief but valuable part of our tradition.”

Asked what aspect of sit-down dinners he most enjoys, Kelly doesn’t hesitate. “The connections that the students make,” he enthuses. “When we had to mask up during COVID, we all felt disconnected. Normally, as you move around campus, you recognize faces from sit-down meals, which is the human piece of it, the magic of the tradition—if you recognize a face, it may stir a conversation. Sit-down meals are all about enhancing community and fostering human connections, an objective we’re very proud of here at Deerfield. It’s a brilliant part of our fabric.” Austin agrees.

Students may not always appreciate the lessons in the moment, but alumni tend to light up when asked about the enduring value of sit-down meals. “Assigned seating at dinner was not my favorite experience 50 years ago, but its value dawned on me years later,” observes David Hulick ’73. “That simple measure forced me to break bread, get to know, and be at ease with everyone, not just my closest friends. At college, I ate meals with the same people all the time. I wonder how many opportunities I missed to expand my horizons and circle of friends.”

Interactions with faculty often have lasting impressions on students, too. Recent graduate Chijioke Achebe ’21 remembers a grammar tip imparted by his table head. “For whatever reason, I usually found myself at the same two sit-down tables, 1 or 2,” he explains. “Mr. Taylor was one of the table heads for these tables, and I remember him telling us that the word ‘interesting’ was banned from conversation. When we asked why, he told us that the word was vague and really didn’t say much at all. He was right, and to this day, I find myself consulting a thesaurus whenever I’m writing a paper just so I can find a different word to use.”

For his part, retired US Air Force Colonel Bob Keirstead ’83 fondly remembers sit-downs for their ability to foster community. “My favorite table was with Coach (Jim) Smith, the head football coach at the time. I always felt like I was eating at a family table with Coach Smith, and sometimes one or two of his sons were actually at the table with us. It was like being at home with my family in many ways. He used to make sure everyone was involved in the conversation and there were no harsh criticisms, just reasonable corrections as needed. I try to do the same with my family today; I try to make sure everyone is involved, participating, and part of the event.”

And former Head of School Eric Widmer ’57 fondly recalls a faculty member—who also happens to be his wife—cleverly leveraging a senior class prank to expand students’ cultural perspectives. “The senior class secretly settled on a prank, on the agreed-upon day, of taking all the dining hall flatware shortly before lunch and stashing it away so that when we all sat down for lunch, which happened to be shepherd’s pie, there were no implements with which to convey food from plate to mouth,” he explains. “We were flummoxed, all except for Ms. Vis (Meera Viswanathan), who was ever one to rise to a challenge. She stood up with a handful of shepherd’s pie and announced to everyone that the seniors had given us a chance to eat the way so many people in the world do, which is with their hands. Then with her right hand, she glomped onto a handful of pie and deftly put it into her mouth. The result was not just that everyone had the chance to have their lunch in a new way and experience a mannerism common to so many in the world, but also to signify to the seniors something of that dauntless Deerfield spirit in all of us.”

Cultivating a sense of community is a shared goal across Deerfield, reiterates John Austin. “We have a heads-up culture on our campus—we want students to engage with one another, and sit-down meals are a vital component of that experience,” he says. “It’s part of our tradition here at Deerfield: to nourish both body and mind.” //

Heard Around the Table:

The Dining Hall was community for us! In 1989 I was part of the first year girls. I was living in the UAE and came to Deerfield as a sophomore. I had never been to Massachusetts, never seen snow and had no idea what a “grinder” was. AT my table were Luis Gibb ’92 and Tad White ’92, the meal was lobster and I had no idea what this was or how to eat it. Luis and Tad knew right away I was clueless, they showed me what to do and we are friends to this day, over 30 years later! Nothing beats the apple crisp from the dining hall and those lunches and dinners that we will never forget.

Mr. Kelly giving his farewell speech to the class of ’22 at the last sit-down had me in tears.

I think I made the final decision to attend Deerfield after a sit down lunch on my accepted student visit. I had been admitted to Hotchkiss as well and was leaning towards that school after my visit there. The year was 1987 and after food had been served and we ate for a bit, Mr. Smith grabbed the podium and made the announcement that Graham Harden ’87 had won the New England football player of the year award while playing linebacker. The dining hall absolutely erupted in table pounding synchronous applause and the hair on the back of my neck stood up, I had never seen or heard something so cool in my life. I wondered if that could ever be me getting recognition in front of an entire school body. The smile on Mr. Smith’s face was unmistakably that of a proud coach, I went on to be good friends with his youngest son Pat ’91, what an incredible family they are. Graham Harden ’87 became the most accomplished lacrosse player the school ever had- ACC player of the year, NCAA National Champion and 1st team all American at UNC after a dominant New England prep career. That one exciting day at lunch swung my decision to DA over Hotchkiss and I am very glad to this day I made that choice. Go Big Green!

Moderating a debate at Mr. Dancer’s table if Apple Crisp is considered a cobbler or a pie!

Life lessons learned at the dinner table. Sat at Philip Charron’s table a few times. Mr. Charron was legally blind and I quickly learned that if we wanted to eat with everyone else, I needed to offer to serve the main course and dessert. Mr, Charron and my table mates were most appreciative and I learned how to carve a turkey. Being empathetic was the real life lesson.

On September 11, 2001, I was a senior and my brother a freshman. Students learned of the attacks on the WTC and Pentagon independently and together (though without the widespread use of smartphones there was a lag in people fully understanding what was happening.) There were classes canceled or delayed and I remember friends crying trying to reach parents in NY. We didn’t know what would happen next and I remember walking around trying to figure out where I should be; who I should be with. When it came to sit-down lunch, however, we all showed up, in our places. It was like this gathering (such a daily thing it was like muscle memory carrying some of us along) was holding a lot of us together. The Dining Hall was our lifeboat as a community at that time. We had a place to be, and in that dark moment of uncertainty it didn’t seem strange that everyone was there, in their places. Mr. Widmer got up and said that as far as they had been able to establish, everyone’s “mom and dad were ok.” We clapped then, let out breaths we were holding. But, Mr. Widmer also said, our fellow schools could not say the same. I remember looking around at everyone and as much as we were grateful to be safe, there was this sense that everything had changed and we would need to hold each other closer than ever in the days and weeks to come. Sit-down meals are meant to help the community become a family, to come together once or twice a day and not just eat, but get a feeling of belonging to a greater whole. On 9/11, the purpose was absolutely achieved.