On Thursday nights during the war years, when the world felt unsteady and the future uncertain, Mary Beth Claus Tobin’s mother, Margaret "Peggy" Condon Claus '43, and her classmates at Emmanuel College gathered for what they called “club.”
There was no wine—just sweets: fudge, brownies, cookies. It was their sanctuary, a ritual of togetherness that turned campus into community.
Decades later, Tobin ’76 still returns to that image. Not out of nostalgia, exactly—but for what it revealed: that community is not an accessory to learning. It is the foundation.
It’s a belief that has shaped her life’s work for more than 46 years. As founder and CEO of The Tobin Family of Schools, Tobin has built programs rooted in a premise that, at the time, ran counter to conventional thinking: children cannot learn until they feel they belong.
“People look at young children and say, ‘I want them to write, I want them to read early,’” she said. “But one of the things I feel really strongly about is that children need to know where they fit in—because if they don’t know where they fit in, they can’t learn.”
That conviction—formed through observation, experience, and deep empathy—has guided her from Emmanuel’s Fenway campus to classrooms across MetroWest, from statewide policy work to professional development initiatives, and even, unexpectedly, into the transportation business.
“I knew I fit in there.”
For Tobin, Emmanuel was never simply a college choice. It was a family connection—and a values statement.
Her mother, her sister, Patricia (Claus) Keating '69, and Tobin herself all graduated from Emmanuel, and she speaks of that multigenerational bond less as legacy than as orientation: toward faith, family, kindness, and meaning.
When she considered other colleges, something essential felt missing. She wasn’t drawn to the spectacle of large campuses or the social performance of college life. She was looking for what her mother had found during wartime—a core community. A place that felt safe enough to become yourself.
“I didn’t have to figure out where I fit in,” she said. “I knew I fit in there. So I could go ahead and learn.”
She also valued Emmanuel as it was then—a women’s college—because it quieted distractions.
“You weren’t thinking about what you were wearing or whether you sounded stupid in class,” she recalled. “It didn’t matter. I got to be me.”
That sense of emotional and intellectual safety became not just a formative experience, but a professional blueprint.