By Steve Gallup
Pi·o·neer (pī′ə-nîr')*
How do you define a "pioneer"?
In 1980, when 150 students were selected to attend the NC School of Science and Mathematics, including myself; we were often described as "pioneers". Sometimes it was the news media. Sometimes it was Governor Hunt, or a proxy of his, on the Governor's Planning Committee. Sometimes it was our own school director, Charles Eilber.
It became so common to be called a "pioneer" that it became a sort of cliche'. We laughed at the thought that we were "pioneers". We were only teenagers after all; most of us only 16 or 17 years old; some of us even younger. We were just going to a different school; a specialized residential school in Durham.
And we grew tired of the moniker. We had been through a pretty grueling admissions process, including a request for nomination; and completion of application forms, psychological and aptitude testing, and interviews. We didn't feel as if we needed even more pressure from the outside world. We didn't want to be perceived as "pioneers". We wanted to stop applying and start attending. We wanted to do our own thing!
But we couldn't escape the idea that we were "pioneers". The book, The Pioneers, by James Fenimore Cooper was recommended for summer reading. As we began moving in, a bit of a panic swept through the student body, as we began to debate whether it was a summer reading recommendation or a requirement. I opted not to read it then, and take my chances. (I finally read it 42 years later, before our 40th reunion.)
When dedication day arrived on October 11th, after only a month of classes, the word "pioneers" made a resurgence; often used in referring to us, the first class, as "pioneers"; even as, ironically, we acquiesced to sitting through multiple speeches and ceremonies mandated by the administration. It seemed absurd.
"Pioneers" was even included in the list of options for the school mascot. We voted for school mascot and school colors on November 8th, 1980. "Pioneers" was soundly defeated. "Unicorns" won in a landslide.
I didn't appreciate the appellation at the time; but eventually I grew to appreciate the distinction of being a "pioneer"; a member of the first class of the School of Science and Math.
I proudly wear my high school ring, for the class of '82 (with the Unicorn and the Flaming Diaper logo). I'm proud to proclaim my membership in the first class, even if it was, in part, an accident of my age, and the luck of timing; being a rising 11th grader at the time of the school's inception.
It even seems historic. In 2030, the School will be 50 years old. I was there when it all began.
But what did I do that was "pioneering". What did I bring to the table. What did I offer?
Am I really a pioneer?
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Definition 1. One who opens up new areas of thought, research, or development*
By this definition, I feel almost certain that I was not a "pioneer". I may have been a "settler"; but I was following a path laid out by many of the people who were working hard to establish the School of Science and Math before I arrived on the scene. There were many who were thinking about, researching, and developing the school before the students arrived. There were many "pioneers".
There was Governor Hunt, who proposed the residential school for talented students, in part to benefit the entire state of North Carolina. He brought the idea to the governor's office, to the public, and to the legislature. He got the school established.
Back in 1977, it was only a dream. In September of that year, in his letter to educators and experts, exploring the concept, he said, "Among the ideas and of much personal interest to me, I am considering recommending a new state residential high school of science and mathematics."**
There was Charles Eilber, who served as the founding Director. He codified the goals and the purpose. He organized the administration, and he hired faculty and staff. He oversaw the renovation of the Watts Hospital campus. He sought, and he raised, millions of dollars in private philanthropic funding. He inspired the high standards of "living and learning" that were to follow.
In his August report to the Board of Trustees, in 1980, Charles Eilber said, "While I am sure that not everything will be perfectly in place, and that the pioneering aspects of this first year will be obvious, there appears to be no reason why we can't anticipate a good beginning and the eventual fulfillment of the many expectations that all of us have for the first year of operation.***
There was the School's administrative staff: Ola Stringer, Michael Collins, Borden Mace, Kathleen Benzaquin, and a team of Residential Advisors, among others. They developed the system for admissions, the policies for student personnel, and the plan to care for the whole life of the students... the children... that they were charged with looking after and educating.
Ola Stringer, Head of Admissions, said, "The development and distribution of the admissions packet, which was a cooperative effort by all School staff members, sparked the realization of the magnitude of work facing the Admissions office."**** The early staff were working together to produce materials on all aspects of the school, including the instructional program and the student handbook; materials which did not even exist at the time that applications began.
There was the School's founding faculty (Ginger Wilson, Jon Miller, Ross Baker, Don Houpe, Ama Shabazz, Stephen Davis, Chuck Britton, Joe Liles, Dot Doyle, Jackie Meadows, Kevin Bartkovich, Branson Brown, Randy Foy, and James Henry). They were hired about the same time that prospective students were applying; and they must have worked hard to prepare a curriculum plan, putting into operation the lofty concepts and dreams of the governor, the board of trustees, and the administration.
Dr. Miller, in his remarks on the beginning of the 35th year of classes, said, "There was no one to ask, because no one knew any more than the asker.... There was to be a program; but nobody knew what the program was to be.... By some incredible fluke we were given charge of this great educational dream."*****
And there were the parents. They sent their "pioneer" children from all over the state. They were taking on faith, the promises of the School, which had no track record to rely on. They were sending away children that they had been raising for fifteen years or more. Comments from my own mother, in a questionnaire for parents, sent in 1980, may give you some idea of what was probably a common feeling. She said, "Believing that I have taught my son all he can learn from me; also, I have given him all I have to give for his benefit (except continued love and interest). I am encouraged that the community (specifically NCSSM) will now take over this responsibility and privilege."******
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Definition 2. One who ventures into unknown or unclaimed territory to settle.*
By this definition, I feel almost certain that I was a "pioneer". We were certainly venturing into the unknown. And we were going into "unclaimed territory to settle"; we were going to live in dormitories vacated by the Watts School of Nursing, and repurposed for the residential high school; the School of Science and Math.
I was willing to take a wild risk on a completely unproven concept. I was willing to leave home... and my home school,,, and start over. Like a pioneer, I was independent and adventurous; but I was also communal and friendly; fun-loving and approachable. I was looking forward to building a new community... maybe a better community, in a new place... potentially a better place.
But above all, I think I was attracted by the unknown. I admired the heroes of the "golden age of exploration"; captains who would sail off into the unknown, on trips across the ocean, or around the world. And I admired the fictional heroes of Star Trek, who voyaged off into "Space... the final frontier... to boldly go where no man has gone before." I was ready for my own voyage of adventure and discovery.
So I applied for the school; asking my Biology teacher to complete the nomination form. I completed the application forms. I took the SAT. I went to the interview and the regional testing.
And they saw some potential in me; perhaps a bit of swashbuckling bravado. They saw something of a pioneer spirit. After all, I was determined; eager, hard working, and enthusiastic. I was committed to the ideals of the school; to excel not only in science and math, but in all subjects.
And I was committed to the state of North Carolina (although I didn't know it 'til later). I confirmed the expectations of Governor Hunt, that the school would nourish and grow scientific talent within the state. I went to college in the Triangle. I got a medical degree at Duke. And after residency, I spent all but three years practicing medicine in the state of North Carolina.
I tried to do honor to the opportunity that was given; to the doors that were opened to me by my admission to the first class.
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Definition 3. A soldier who performs construction and demolition work in the field to facilitate troop movements.*
I wasn't alone, of course. Or unique. We all took a leap of faith together; like members of a battalion. We performed feats of "construction"; and we did a little "demolition work", too.
With regards to construction... building things up... we established student organizations, like the Outing club, the Chorus and Wind Ensemble, the Dance club, the Yearbook club, the Student Activities Board, and Student Government. (I recall students discussing the creation of a constitution for the student government! It was something I had always taken for granted in the past.)
We petitioned for activities and events, including varsity sports, a talent show, dance parties, a haunted house, casino night, Junior and (later) Senior proms. I personally was involved in organizing a small social club, playing and assisting in varsity soccer, and organizing an intramural ping pong tournament. In my senior year, I joined three other students in a bicycle trip across the state. Later, I helped organize fund-raising activities so my hall could hold a weekend barbecue at a city park, off campus; a chance for us to invite special guests, to show them our appreciation.
We did a little tearing down also. We tested the code of conduct in every respect. As we got to know one another, pranks became epidemic. It was almost an expression of affection, to pull a prank on the residents of your hall. But more direct expressions of affection were a problem too. Hugging and cuddling became so common that the school had to clarify the limits of proper decorum. I believe that they issued a memorandum; a statement to discourage "public displays of affection" within weeks of the school's opening.
We tested the bounds of destructive behavior with shaving cream-filled self-detonating balloons, smelly biochemical compounds, and other experiments in DIY chemistry and engineering. We tested the bounds of curfew and trespass in every imaginable way. And we pushed back on the incredible demands on our time.
Our free time was virtually non-existent, between the cumulative assignments of homework from the faculty, and the dictates of work service, community service, and other requirements from the administration. We pushed back in acceptable channels of communication; via student government, newsletter commentary, and informal discussions with faculty. And we pushed back in unsanctioned revolutionary actions. We had a spontaneous snow day called in to the local news station by an enterprising "pioneer", one winter. And we organized a "Senior Skip" day at Sarah P. Duke Gardens in the Spring of 1982.
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Definition 4. A species that is typically among the first to become established in a bare, open, or disturbed area.*
So... were we pioneers?
I think so... absolutely.
But not just me. And not just the students.
Each population that established the school... each "species", as it were.... from the NC governors office and the board of trustees... to the Director and the administration... to the staff and the faculty... to the parents and teachers of the student applicants... to the students themselves...; each of them created something new; a new symbiotic, living and functional institution; from the "bare" bones of the ratified bill of the NC General Assembly... the "open" framework of the planning committee... and the "disturbed" soil and structures of the renovated Watts Hospital campus.
Charles Eilber, himself, described the development of this unique environment, in his message in the front of the first student handbook. I don't think I can describe it any better. He said:
The content has been planned, discussed, and revised over many months by an experienced staff and faculty, and it represents our effort to assure students and parents of an orderly environment in which living and learning can begin to happen.
However, as we live together and learn from the experiences of this first year, the Handbook must reflect the lessons of experience. It will evolve and change because many more of us - including students and parents - will be here to contribute to its use and development.
From this beginning we will work together to build a structure within which each of us can grow as an individual, and this school can grow as a community.
[Student Handbook (1980); NCSSM Digital Collections]
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Footnotes
*[American Heritage Dictionary 2022]
**[Governor James Hunt. NCSSM background paper; February 1978; NCSSM Digital Collection]
***[Director's Progress Report to the Board of Trustees; August 1, 1980; NCSSM Digital Collection]
****[Director's Progress Report to the Board of Trustees; March 1980; NCSSM Digital Collections]
*****[NCSSM in 1980. Jon Miller on NCSSMs Opening Year. YouTube video created by the NC School of Science and Math.]
******[NCSSM Confidential Questionnaire for Parents - September 1980. Sent by Cecily B Selby - Special Assistant for Academic Planning. Personal Copy]
"I appreciated...the... considerations given to parents. We need the assurance that we have done the right thing for our children and ourselves.
Believing that I have taught my son all he can learn from me; also, I have given him all I have to give for his benefit (except continued love and interest). I am encouraged that the community (specifically NCSSM) will now take over this responsibility and privilege.
My faith in God leads me to hope that NCSSM will bring to North Carolina something of truth and value within the lives of all who live here."
-Margaret Gallup, 9/27/80
