Practicality vs. Preservation
My current history classroom, located in the basement of the Academy Building, has dark wood trim and cream walls and a circular Harkness table—all details which contribute to a very nice-looking room. However, there is one minor detail which offsets the beauty of the room: The blackboards were long ago covered by whiteboards, which are practical but not pretty.
And, according to my history teacher, the blackboards were not removed, but were rather hidden by the current layer of whiteboard. The boards are inaccessible, though, even if the whiteboards were removed, because the whiteboards are glued directly onto the chalkboards underneath.
When functionality and practicality meet beauty and preservation, what is there to do? When is it appropriate to remodel an old room, and when is it okay to leave it as is? As a school that functions in both modern and historic settings, this question is important. The ability to discern the appropriate time to renovate or to preserve is required in a setting which is constantly used and changed.
There are times when functionality trumps classic styling. The health and comfort of the people living and working in old buildings are more important than the historical significance of its construction. A room with asbestos in the paint and insulation is a safety hazard and should be remodeled and demolished if the asbestos cannot be eliminated. And dorms which have been recently renovated are much nicer to live in than dorms which haven’t.
However, there are also times when preserving old rooms is important. Recently in a public high school in Oklahoma, contractors discovered turn-of-the-century blackboards behind newer chalkboards. Each blackboard was covered in drawings, samples of penmanship and forgotten methods for learning multiplication, hinting at what education was like shortly before World War I. Though I suspect that the blackboards trapped behind whiteboards are scrubbed clean, the same concept of preservation could apply to Exeter. The library, with its many books, also preserves rare artifacts which have been donated to the school.
But it is the place at which the two extremes intersect, when functionality is not vital and historical significance unclear, where things get difficult. The cage may give the track team black lung, but it also serves as a reminder of earlier days, when dirt floors and wooden tracks were normal for sports facilities. But functionality cannot completely eradicate history, and old things cannot accumulate for the sake of accumulating. A balance must be struck between the two, so that both complement, not overpower, each other.
Exeter, with its constantly growing and changing campus and community, continues to search for that balance. As it strives toward excellence, it cannot forget its past. There must be a blend of both old and new at this school, and these concepts struggle to balance each other. As Exeter moves forward, it must learn that modern style is acceptable, and that it is okay to have some history, too.
In the meantime maybe we can scrape off the glue on those blackboards.