24Bill and LindaDietel nowlive in Virginiawhere both areinvolved withnonprofit fundraising andinternationalphilanthropy.meaningfulmomentsin historyof the board—a pivotal momentfor the school and the first timean alumna had chaired the board.Tangeman was a national figureand had served on the board of thenational and international GirlsGuides and Scouts as well as charitiesat her homes in New York andColumbus, Indiana. Her impact onthe board and the school was legendaryand continues to this day.“Clemmie was one of the greatladies of the country,” says Dietel.People wanted to be on the boardwith Tangeman who was an inspiringleader.“Bill helped shape the board,” saysHanmer. He brought on alumnaeand men who would actively fundraise and who would recruit wealthy,well-connected individuals for theBoard of Trustees.While the addition of new bloodto the board—mostly men—wasn’tradical, the addition of new bloodto the faculty—mostly male—was.<strong>Emma</strong> had been an entirely femaleenterprise when the Dietels arrived(save two men, Russell Locke, headof the music department for 50 yearsand Arthur Homan, chair of the historydepartment when Bill arrived).But though there was moremoney spent, money was comingin. The Dietels instituted the firstcapital campaign in the history ofthe school. New buildings wereconstructed—the Tangeman housingcomplex, the Snell music wing,Dietel Library, and the facultyduplexes. Dietel discontinued theriding program and moved maintenanceto the old stables. He madethe laundry a student center.He took a decidedly less aggressivetack with the academic program.Academically the schoolwas nationally renowned when theDietels arrived. Co-headmistressesWellington and Lay had instituted acurriculum in 1948 that integratedthe history, literature, and arts ofWestern civilization, which, Lindasays, “was talked about in educationalcircles nationally.”By 1968, though, many of theteachers who had helped build thiscurriculum were gone, and newteachers, says Bill, “had new thingsthey wanted to do. They found aninherited program restrictive.”“So we tried to hang on to bitsand pieces of the old curriculumwhile giving faculty members moreof an opportunity to develop theirown areas of academic interests.”The school had always had aninterest beyond the United States,so there was a further broadeningbeyond Western civilization andculture. Also, science educationwas becoming more important inthe Sputnik era, so Bill beefed upmath and science and institutedan internship program. They alsoplaced a greater emphasis on thearts and started a dance programthat was of particular interest to agrowing number of students, andthough music and art had alwaysbeen strong, during Dietel’s era theyadded a performance component.If the former co-headmistresseswere known for strict formality andprotocol, the Dietels were knownfor their approachability, and in factmany students of the era referred tohim as “Daddy D.”“He was like a father figure,”recalls Mags Conant ’67. “I thinkmost people adored him. Hewas beloved.”In the spirit of the new Dietel era,pranks were played—by and on Bill.Bill recalls that when the girls realizedthat he didn’t really know all thewords to the Alma Mater, which wassung every week at morning assembly,one day the entire student bodystopped singing after the first verse,leaving Bill loudly singing his lah,lah, lahs.At another morning assembly,Bill introduced a visiting diplomatfrom Russia. “This was 1965,”Conant says, “so it was in the middleof the Cold War. The visitor wasdescribing why Russia was so wonderfuland what was wrong withAmerica.” She recalls that the studentswere getting perturbed and aFrench teacher in the balcony stoodup and left. After he finished hisanti-American speech, the Russiandiplomat sat down and Bill said,“We are very lucky to have today aparent of a student who would liketo refute the things you’ve just heard.Welcome Bill Chenoweth, the senatorfrom Colorado.” And then thesame guy—the Russian diplomat—stood up.Bill enjoyed making theannouncement of Headmaster’sHoliday a dramatic performance.On one occasion, while a speakeraddressed the students during morningassembly, the curtain behind himopened and there was Bill, in slippersand housecoat, reading the paperand smoking a pipe, exclaiming,“Headmaster’s Holiday!”Bill pulled another fast one onthe students when he insisted theyattend a special evening event—arenowned German poet would bereading poetry. The students wereunhappy and grumbled but arrivedto see a statuesque woman, ProfessorDoktor Gertrude von Rauschnitz,ascend the stage.Photo: Molly McDonald Petersonemma
25“She was tall, had good lookinglegs, and carried a reticule,” remembersBill. “And wore a veil and agray hat,” adds Linda.The poet proceeded to tell theassembly, in a thick German accent,that she was disappointed thatthey didn’t offer German classesor speak German.“The students were not amused,”laughs Bill. “Who is this womanputting our school down?”She began to read someGoethe and the students, boredand eager to get back to theirstudies, began squirming andwhispering. At which point thepoet railed at the students.“It’s extraordinary that youyoung ladies could be so badlybehaved!” she exclaimed. “It’senough to make me tear outmy hair!”So she did just that. Toreoff her hair—a wig, and beneaththat wig, was Bill Dietel. Pandemoniumensued. “It causedalmost complete bedlam amongthe students,” remembers KimiOkada ’69. “It was so funny,”says Linda, who was up in thebalcony laughing out loud.While the Dietel years at <strong>Emma</strong> werebuilding years—new structures,new programs, new teachers andadministrators—Bill and Lindarealized, by the end of their tenure,that all-girls’ schools were losingground. As many boys’ secondaryschools began going coed, the poolof <strong>Emma</strong> applicants was reducedand the future of all-girls education,at the secondary and collegiate level,began to look imperiled.In the years that followed, schoolschanged and evolved to meet thedemands and expectations of thechanging times. Some all-girls’schools became coed, some folded.But <strong>Emma</strong> Willard remained trueto its mission.“This school says,let’s go for it.”Then came the study by Harvardpsychologist Carol Gilligan that<strong>Emma</strong> underwrote. “That was animportant mind-changer about allgirls’ schools and women’s education,”Linda says.Gilligan asserted that developmentaldifferences between malesand females worked against youngwomen in educational settings,where they learned during pubertyto suppress their “authenticvoices” and true ideals in maledominatedsociety.“That put us back on thenational education scene,” Billsays. “That gave <strong>Emma</strong> a shot inthe arm. It’s part of the businessof being pioneering and takingchances. This school says, let’s gofor it. Finds a new way to be creative,to rethink women’s education.<strong>Emma</strong> Willard has historicallyconsistently played over its headand that explains the loyalty ofthe alumnae, the dedication of thefaculty, and the commitment ofthe board.”No one has been more loyal,dedicated, committed—or pioneering—thanthe Dietels.In 1969, Bill exited from hisrole as <strong>Emma</strong>’s principal with thesame drama and flair as when heentered it. “I will never forget thatday,” remembers Ann Evans ’72.“A helicopter began to circle overthe Triangle. Once it became clearthat the helicopter was going to landon the campus everyone gatheredto watch. My memory is that whenBill Dietel stepped out his armswere filled with daffodils and heannounced “Headmaster’s Holiday!”Approaching each and every studentand handing her a flower was hisway of saying farewell. He’ll neversay goodbye.Summer 2012