I couldn’t immediately locate Joyce Church on the morning I interviewed her, but there was ample evidence of the housekeeper’s presence in Dickinson Science Building. The door to her cleaning closet was plastered with hand-written notes and paper hearts from students. The chalkboards in each classroom were squeaky-clean, save for about six inches of chalk dust where she couldn’t reach with the sponge (some professors refer to this as the “white cloud”). There was a tupperware container of corn muffins on her table with a note reading: “I fucked up and forgot the baking soda. They are heavy but still edible. Be brave.”
Joyce Church has achieved celebrity status at Bennington College in the ten years she’s worked here, and her groupies have a name. “Dickinson Rugrats” is a term for any student who steps foot inside Dickinson; there are no barriers to entry. Anyone can eat Church’s homemade baked goods, which she brings daily for the students and faculty. (Don’t let the aforementioned corn muffins fool you—Church’s confections are typically flawless.) Anyone is allowed one of her novelty pens reading “Dickinson Rugrat” on one side and “Joyce’s Favorite!” on the other. She is frequently stopped in the hallway for hugs. Church’s trade is housekeeping, but her true aspiration is to make every student feel at home. Her kingdom is open to all.
I eventually found Church on the upper floor of Dickinson, restocking the bathroom with what she only refers to as “shit paper.” Our interview was at 8:00 AM, but Church had been there for hours before I arrived. She starts her day at the crack of dawn and works tirelessly: between cleaning jobs, she chats with students, holds impromptu classroom trivia games, and prepares her own campus scavenger hunts. On several occasions, Church has politely interrupted my class to ask a trivia question to the students and hurl a bag of family-size potato chips at the lucky winner. Conversations with Church are exhilarating—she’s equal parts comedian and philosopher, one moment lamenting classism in academia, the next telling you about the time she pranked her coworker with a xeroxed dollar bill. Going into the interview, I knew that the challenge would not be coaxing out a conversation, but trying to keep up.
After finishing with the upstairs bathroom, Church led me to an empty office, where I was able to indulge in the conversation I had been imagining for the better part of a year. Before coming to Bennington, Church told me that she previously oversaw the night shift at Cambridge Central School for fourteen years and worked at Jard Inc., building capacitors and quick start motors. I began by asking Church the same question all college students must answer on their applications: why us?
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Olivia Morrison: What drew you to Bennington College?
Joyce Church: I grew up in Bennington, just down the road. Before Dickinson, before VAPA or CAPA. When the road went all the way through, we used to ride our bikes to North Bennington and back. I never once stepped foot on a college campus until I started working here. I retired from the public school and decided I didn’t like retirement, so I thought I would come here for a year. I’m still here because of you Rugrats.
It was the students who kept you here?
The truth is, the people in this building have been exceptionally good to me. I thoroughly enjoy the students that come and go.
What does a day in the life of Joyce look like? Do you start upstairs with the shit paper?
I come in, get my cart ready, and it depends on how messy the building is. If it’s really messy, then I try to make sure I’m a bug on bathrooms. I try to make sure that the bathrooms are clean and stocked. And then I also have a schedule on my cart of when the classes start, which rooms, so if I have a busy day, then I can bounce around. If there’s no morning class in 117 then I can save that one for last, you know.
So you kind of bounce between rooms when professors aren’t in there?
I can’t say that I have a regular routine where I start here and just go bing, bing, bing, bing, bing. It depends on what kind of a mess. Because there were no classes yesterday, I wanted to deep clean the classrooms. I had two left this morning to deep clean and sweep and mop real good. I got those finished, and then my thoughts are bathrooms.
You had a surgery last term that kept you off your feet for a while. How has your return to work been?
I had a reverse shoulder replacement. When I came back to work, I was on light duty. I’m still on light duty. The people in this building have been amazing. If I’ve had anything heavy to lift, I can ask any faculty number, and it’s not a problem. Matter of fact, any of the Rugrats, they would be more than happy to help me. So I’m very fortunate.
I have to shout out Hugh Crowl. When I was out with my surgery, he also had the banana mocha cake recipe. While I was out, I had given him candy to put out, so that there would be a little bit of candy every day. And he made, two different times, banana mocha cake for the students. Students were messaging me: “It was good, but it wasn’t yours.” And right after the first message I got from students, Hugh sent me a picture, and he said, “Tim and I said it was okay, but it wasn’t yours.” That is hysterical.
You go above and beyond for the students here with your baking, scavenger hunts, custom pens, and trivia games. Why do you plan all of these fun activities for the students?
I don’t know if I can really answer that, other than I am a mother and a grandmother and a great grandmother. I look at the diversity that’s on this campus, and if it was one of my children or grandchildren, I would want to know that somebody cared. You get down in the dumps, and if some stupid shit that I do puts a smile on somebody’s face, and if I can make somebody’s life a little happier, then—I have a saying. I do one kind deed a day. I live by that, whether I’m in the grocery store or whether I’m in here talking with you.
As far as baking goes, I’ve always loved baking. Every job I’ve ever worked at, I’ve always baked. I don’t need Dr. Phil, because someone who used to work here, she found an article that told me why I bake.
What was the reason?
It was just that I enjoy sharing and enjoy the people. It’s just fun. The egg hunt—it’s not what’s in the eggs, it’s the hunt. I just like to bring joy to people. Sometimes I put up a front, I’m having a real shitty bad day, or I’m not feeling well. I try to put a smile on and just keep chugging.
Did you start baking for Dickinson students when you came here ten years ago?
Yes. As a matter of fact, when I started baking, I didn’t know if I’d be shut down.
When I worked in the public school, I was on board when the peanut-free policy first came in. If you walk into that school today, you’ll find the signs that I made: peanut and tree nut free. They still use those signs. I had a faculty member tell me that I label my food better than the dining hall does. I’m very conscious of allergies.
I’ve always appreciated that, because I have a nut allergy. Which of your baked goods do you think is the fan favorite? Which one disappears the fastest?
Banana mocha cake. I bet you I’ve made at least five-hundred banana mocha cakes or more since I’ve worked here. Students have taken the recipe—they’ve got a baking club. I’ve been invited to go.
You should go!
It’s at night! This old carcass is in bed early. When I bake, I try new recipes and I like feedback. I’ve had people say, “I don’t wanna hurt your feelings.” You’re not gonna hurt my feelings. If you don’t tell me that you don’t like it, you’re gonna get it again. But I welcome honest feedback. I may have ten people say, “that sucks,” and one person say “I really like that,” so those ten people win.
Have you really had people say “that sucks” to you before?
Yeah, I’m fine with it. I have a cookbook that I made. Back when I worked in the factory, everybody kept asking me for the same recipe over and over again. So, for Christmas one year, I made 25 handwritten cookbooks with all the favorite recipes and handed that out. Since then, I probably could have had a second or third edition. When I run into these people I used to work with, the first thing they say is, “I still have my cookbook.” So that’s sweet.
Are there plans for a Bennington cookbook?
No, somebody had asked me about that. Too much work.
I can respect that.
I consider baking my therapy, and as you can tell, I need a lot of it.
You know, those corn muffins I made last night are a different story. I forgot to put the baking soda in, and I thought, “What the hell is the matter with them?” They’re like friggin’ hockey pucks. I hope somebody eats them.
They didn’t rise?
They’re heavy. Throw some jam on them. They go down pretty good. And I doubled the recipe, which makes it worse.
You’ve put together Easter egg hunts for the students before. Have you done other scavenger hunts as well?
I had the sloth [scavenger hunt]. Everybody wanted to get the fucking sloth.
People were trying to steal the sloth?
I don’t know who it was. I had taken [the sloth] to Jennings and put it in the bathroom. The housekeeper who was there at the time said within a half hour it was gone. So I talked to somebody up there and I said, “Whoever got the fucking sloth, tell them to bring it back!” Because I had a tag on it that said: “If you find me, take me to Joyce and you get a prize.” I never did find out who it was that had it. I came in one day and the campus safety guy said, “The sloth is on the lost and found table.” I don’t know what the deal was with that.
So nobody got the prize in the end?
Whoever had it did not come and collect the prize. I’ve picked up some other stuffed critters, and I want to do the same thing with them.
I will tell you—and I’ve told a couple of other students—I have an egg hunt coming up that will more than likely be the last one I ever do. Bags of candy have gotten smaller and the prices have gotten bigger. They don’t pay me enough. People do give me stuff, although I don’t ask anybody for anything. But [money] isn’t why I do it. I enjoy doing it.
You’re known for holding impromptu trivia games during classes in Dickinson. How do you come up with your trivia questions?
I mean, I go in and ask stupid shit questions. I would ask professors ahead of time, “Can I interrupt class?” I would go into the class, then I would pick somebody and say, “You have five seconds to answer this. What’s the name of the president of the college?” This silence is what I would get. Another example: “You’ve got five seconds to answer this. What’s the name of the professor at the front of this room?” I don’t know if they thought it was a trick question.
So then I did some research on some real trivia questions. I went in and I said, “Do you think the faculty member is gonna get this right or not? If you’re right, you get the prize.” I’ve asked faculty genuine questions, and they look at me, and the students are yelling out the answers. It’s fun! It’s just plain fun.
You’re a judge for the Halloween costume contest, right? You judge a category called “Joyce’s Choice?”
Yeah. I hate it! Because everybody goes to all that work, and everybody is hoping and praying. “I want Joyce’s Choice!” I’m looking at everybody and it’s like, I don’t want to pick! And then I’ll just randomly grab somebody. There’s been a couple of times where I might want to pick someone and all of these other people go, “Oh, we’re picking horror first.” So this last time I said to Laura Walker, “I get first pick.”
What are you looking for in a costume?
It’s an honor to be asked to do Joyce’s Choice. But I don’t like picking, because students have put so much work into the outfits and it’s like, if I could pick everybody I would.
I noticed that Bennington has reposted your campus photographs before. What are your tricks when it comes to photography?
I just use my phone. I tag Bennington College when I take pictures. It’s shit luck that they come out the way they do, because I’m not a photographer. But if something catches my eye—like the other day, I did the bird’s eye view of the greenhouse. If I see a group of students on the ground, when the weather breaks and it’s a nice day, something about it catches my eye and I’ll stop and say, “Do you mind if I take your picture?” And if they say yes, I say, “Do you mind if I post it?” We have a beautiful campus.
Do you consider any student who takes a class in Dickinson to be a Dickinson Rugrat? Or do they need to be a science student? What’s the criteria?
You’re in Dickinson. You’re a Rugrat.
One time I had my people-feeder out, and I had a sign on it that said: “Welcome back Rugrats, welcome aboard freshmen.” And Janet Foley, who was a marvelous professor who used to teach here, stopped and said, “Joyce! I don’t think they appreciate being called Rugrats!” And I said, “Janet, they love it!”
I’ve had VAPA kids come in and say, “I’m not a Dickinson student, can I have a cookie?” I said, “You’re a Rugrat. Have a cookie.” I like to make the place welcoming and hopefully cheerful.
Have you kept in touch with any students after they graduated?
If I leave here tomorrow, I can leave knowing I did something right while I was here, with the number of alums that have kept in touch with me. One of the alums is now a medical doctor, and he still keeps in touch with me.
How has Bennington changed over the ten years you’ve been here?
I feel, overall, that it has changed, but not for the better. It’s changed in the sense that students have been able to manipulate some of the management, which has handicapped Buildings and Grounds people from doing their job. It is my opinion that it has also impeded health and safety.
You think the negative change comes from the students?
Students protested they didn’t want campus safety coming through the dorms. I feel that campus safety should be going through the dorms. I don’t have to tell you that there are drug issues on campus. There’s a lot of students that reach out for help. A lot of students confide in Buildings and Grounds staff. They talk to us a lot.
I’ve had students say, “I would rather talk to you than I would psych services.” I’m not certified. I’m a mother, I’m a grandmother. I’ve got a lot of miles on this old carcass. I’ve seen a lot. I’ve heard a lot. I’ve been through a lot. That’s the only association I have: I was your age at one time.
It broke my heart that students vandalized the vending machines so that they had to be removed. They smashed them up down at the student center, in here, over at VAPA. I knew somebody was trying to break into them, and they finally managed to smash the glass and break them open. So many students, on the weekends, relied on those kinds of snacks. I’ve had FLoW students that were embarrassed for anybody to know that they were FLoW students. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. If you’re given an opportunity, you embrace it. And if fellow students are doubting them, shame on them.
I feel that I’m decent to the students, and that’s why I have so little vandalism here. I’m hoping that’s the reason. I’ve got a coworker that says, “Why the fuck don’t you retire? Get the hell out of here, enjoy your life.” But I enjoy this. I’ve lost my husband since I was here, and so it’s me and the dog at home. And I’ve had a lot of people saying, “Why don’t you just retire? Why don’t you just retire?” Why don’t you mind your business?
What’s one thing about you that most people at Bennington don’t know?
Well, actually, I just had this as a trivia question this week. I did foster care in the ‘70s. Teenagers.
How was that experience?
It was an eye opener as to how the Vermont foster care system works. It sucks.
You’ve got parents that are not being parents. When I worked in the public school, you had the kids that came from good, grounded families, mostly two-parent households. The parents were involved in their kids’ schoolwork, in their wellbeing. Then you had the kids who were labeled special needs. Then you had this big group in-between, from the working class. These kids had so much baggage. All they needed was somebody to talk to, because mom and dad are fighting, or they’re going through a divorce, or they didn’t have enough food to eat, or Santa Claus isn’t coming. So much baggage there.
When the kids got detention at the school, their punishment was that they had to work with me at night, after school. I was the shoulder that they exhaled on. They were just good kids that made bad choices. So when they did their time, I would say, “Keep your nose clean, because I’m going to check up on you.”
You give so much of yourself to the campus community, and I was wondering if you feel like the community has reciprocated that love?
Yeah. I get a lot of hugs. I get a lot of thank yous. I have received jewelry, fresh baked goodies, gift cards and some baking supplies, and also a brand new hand mixer. Kindness is a boomerang—if you give it, it finds its way back. I have students that are going through rough times, who come and talk to me, and the personal aspect of what I can offer them—they are very grateful.
What’s your philosophy? What’s your life advice for Bennington students?
Oh, gosh, just be smart. Use your head. And blossom. You know, if you’ve been given an opportunity through financial aid, if you’ve been given an opportunity through FLoW, if you’re paying full, hang onto it. Engage and blossom. Make it work for you. Don’t waste it. Life is too short.
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On my way out, I stopped by Church’s closet—a whimsical explosion of fanmail, photographs, and colorful paper crafts—to pick up a copy of her beloved banana mocha cake recipe, which she allowed me to publish (on the condition I informed readers that she uses a full teaspoon of cinnamon rather than half a teaspoon). On the inside of the door was a gallery of every student and alum Church has cherished. It is an abundant gallery, and its curator could speak for hours on its subjects. She introduced me to students who battled homesickness after leaving their native countries behind, faculty members who have passed away, winners of the Halloween costume contest, numerous recent graduates; Church imparts graduating seniors with a hand-folded “lucky dollar.” It’s both a good luck charm and a memento to remember her by.
The collection of notes and gifts Church has received from students is equally extensive. “Joyce, you’re the reason my tummy doesn’t grumble when I miss breakfast,” says one. “The plants you gifted me have grown so much already!” reads another. “Just one other reason to be happy. I always stop by when I’m sad.”
I left Dickinson with a corn muffin in hand—heavy, but decisively edible—and an overwhelming impression that Church is a rarity at Bennington College. Her work keeping Dickinson clean is vital, but her interpersonal work goes above and beyond the call of duty. Student lives have been brightened, altered, and remembered by Joyce Church, and the proof is in the pudding; or, in this case, the proof is in the banana mocha cake. There are never leftovers.
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