Hanging Out Up There

Hidden on the outskirts of the Radcliffe Quad, beyond the route of the shuttle bus, lie two squat concrete structures which might escape notice altogether except for smells of dinner cooking which draw an influx of students around 5 p.m. each evening.

Fifty-one students call these buildings home. They are the Jordan Co-ops, Harvard's alternative to House living, which allow students to cook their own meals and perform household chores for a reduced board fee.

Founded in 1961 by then Radcliffe President Wilbur K. Jordan '28, the co-ops still bear Jordan's legacy in the letters identifying each of the three buildings: "W." "K." and "J." their founder's initials. But life in the co-ops and the type of people attracted to co-op living have changed since the presidency of Jordan, who believed that learning to cook and manage a household was valuable preparation for Radcliffe women.

"Cooperative living is an experience not unconnected with the process of an education and what excellent wives [Radcliffe students] will make," Jordan told the first residents of the co-ops during their dedication ceremony.

With the advent of the hippie generation in the late 60's and the admission of men to the co-ops in 1971, the rather prim, homemaker atmosphere was radically changed. Instead of lambchops and steaks, the menu changed to vegetarian dishes. The custom of serving after-dinner coffee in the living room was forgotten, and the "beau room" became the coed TV room. Today, the only remnant of the co-ops' single-sex era is a "men" sign on the first-floor bathroom.

Today' co-op students still cook the meals and cleans the building, but many of them are men and their philosophy is usually a far cry from Jordan's attitude on the purpose of the co-ops.

"There is no Jordan J party line, but a lot of people here are involved in the peace movement, in women's issues, in working with refugees," says resident Sarah Browning '85.

In a way, the Jordan Co-ops are a refuge and a new experience for Harvard students. They are small--around 18 students live in each of the buildings.

Co-op residents pay the same rent as other Harvard students but only about one-third as much for board as dorm residents do. The students used to pay directly to the co-op, but this practice was eliminated last year and residents now pay board to Harvard, which then allots the appropriate funds to each of the co-ops' student secretaries.

In return for spending about eight hours a week on household chores, co-op students are guaranteed a wide range of benefits, from home-cooked meals that surpass standard dining hall fare to single rooms, their own laundry room and a continuous supply of beer provided by the "beer czar" whose duty is to keep the refrigerator well-stocked.

What attracts students to the co-ops, though, is frequently the sense of community that pervades life at the co-ops.

"I was afraid I was going to graduate knowing 500 people casually but not knowing anybody well," says Browning. "Here you have the chance to develop much stronger friendships than you do in the Houses."

The sense of community is clearest in the events that surround cooking the dinner. Co-op residents must fend for themselves for breakfast and lunch, but dinner is a communal affair. Although all the co-ops are equipped with large common rooms complete with fireplaces and in some cases TV, the central gathering place for the residents is the kitchen, where co-opers begin drifting in at the end of the day.

"You learn to cook amazing meals, but more than that you develop a sense of community [through the chores]. It's like a family here--you really get to know the other co-op residents and they form your support network," says Browning, adding, "Besides, if you were living in a house, you'd spend that time hanging out with your friends anyway. Cooking dinner with someone is just another way of hanging out. In fact, around here you have to guard against hanging out too much."

As Alyson Denny '85 stirs an enormous wok full of green peppers in the kitchen, a large cassette player fills the room with the sounds of jazz piano, while another student chef rolls out graham cracker dough for the evening dessert. Other coopers wander in to find out what's for dinner, or actually just to hang out. The conversation runs from thesis topics to music to TV.

When the meal is ready the chef calls in the other students by ringing a bell or by blowing loudly through a conch shell, as they do in Jordan J. The evening's chef places the meal on a counter buffet style and students serve themselves, then take their plates back to a long table set against one wall of the room.

"J is ritzy because we always have dessert," explains Browning one night when the chef, Marcia Rorty '84, offers a dark chocolate mousse with fresh whipped cream to top off her spaghetti and garlic bread dinner.

But while co-op residents enjoy many advantages, such as guaranteed single rooms and less expensive board fees, co-op living, they say, is not for everyone.

Students perform day-to-day jobs such as cooking dinner, washing dishes, cleaning the stove and baking bread. They are required to do a certain amount of work based on a point system which varies from co-op to co-op. Each student must sign up on a chart for approximately 20 points' worth of work during a two week period. For example, making dinner once and cleaning up twice would be worth 20 points, Jennifer Eddy '85 explains.

"Basically, it's work," says Denny. "You have to be willing to do about eight hours of work per week and you have to enjoy doing it."

It's definitely not for some people," says Browning. "Most people here made a conscious choice not to be involved in the Harvard competitiveness. Most of us have different visions for our lives than the pre professional Harvard student."

In terms of this sense of community, the co-ops have come full circle since they were first built. This "esprit de corps" was challenged last year when the University, charging that the co-ops had been undersubscribed for the past several years, began to assign overflow students from the Quad Houses to the co-ops.

These students paid full board to the University, taking their meals at their House dining hall and not becoming a full-fledged member of the co-op. Complaining that this practice of assigning overflow students to the co-ops destroyed the sense of community, residents asked for changes in this policy.

As a result of these changes the co-ops have vastly improved since last year, undergoing a renaissance of sorts, according to Ira Bashkow '84. The changes included the end of assigning Quad overflow students, establishing a limit of 18 students per co-op, and allowing students who move to the co-op from a House to maintain their former House affiliation.

This makes it easier for students to experiment with co-op living, according to Bashkow, because they can move back to their original House if they don't like the co-op, and even if they remain at the co-op they do not have to sever all ties with their former House.

"The demand for the co-ops has increased since we made all the policy changes last year," says Housing Officer Teresa Cavalier. "Last year one of the co-ops wasn't even used as a co-op and the others weren't filled. This year all three of the co-ops are running at their capacity level of 17 students."

"Being able to keep your house affiliation is helpful because you can have your references written by your old tutor, or you can hang out in the common rooms of your old house or what ever-it's just easier to keep in touch," says Denny.

"I would still have joined the co-op even if they didn't change the rules, but keeping my House affiliation made it a lot easier, "says Julie Rapoport '84, who transferred from Lowell House. "I like the fact that I am still invited to Lowell House functions and that I can still get my diploma with all my friends in Lowell."

Each of the three co-ops houses about 17 undergraduates and one resident tutor who acts as a liaison between the co-op and its affiliate House either North, South or Currier. Among the day-to-day duties, the tutor attends monthly meetings between the three co-ops and the affiliate Houses to discuss various problems and concerns of the co-op residents, according to Eddy.

For academic advising, graduate references and the like, the co-op residents use the tutors of their original Houses, or, in the case of transfer students, the tutors of the co-op's affiliate House. For example, a student who moved from Winthrop House to the co-ops would be assigned to the Winthrop House Senior Common Room, and a transfer student who moved directly to the co-ops would use the tutors of that co-op's affiliate House.

Although Harvard Buildings and Grounds takes care of the maintenance of the co-op buildings and cleans the common rooms and bathrooms, co-op students are responsible for their own board.

Limiting co-op residence to only those students who join voluntarily rather than admitting overflow from Quad Houses has restored a strong sense of community to the co-op, residents agree.

"Last year people were much more on their own. Someone would cook dinner and a lot of people wouldn't show up," says Browning. "Now we have people who are really attracted to communal living. For example, at the beginning meeting of this year we needed someone to clean out the pantry and five people volunteered."

"I loved living in Lowell House," Rapoport says. "But this is what I want for my life now."

In return for spending about eight hours a week on housework residents are guaranteed everything from home-cooked meals to single rooms to a continuous supply of beer provided by the designated 'Beer Czar.'

'I was afraid I was going to graduate knowing 500 people casually but not knowing anybody well. Here you have the chance to develop much stronger friendships that you don't at the Houses.' --Sarah Browning '85