LIVING ON THE EDGE

"THE GENERAL CONSENSUS AMONG OUR BLOCKING GROUP WAS INITIALLY, 'OH FUCK," CURRENT CABOT HOUSE COMMITTEE CO-CHAIR BRANDON P. JONES'00 REMEMBERS THE FATEFUL DAY OF HIS SOPHOMORE HOUSING ASSIGNMENT. "BUT I WOULD NEVER HAVE WANTED TO LIVE BY THE RIVER, KNOWING WHAT I KNOW NOW."

The shift to completely randomized housing assignments four years ago has created a present Quad population completely determined by Lady Luck's blind hand. Previously home to the women of Radcliffe, the Quad now houses over 1,000 of Harvard's lotteried male and female students. This population has split into two distinctive breeds: those who adamantly tout their home as an isolated Eden, and those who repeatedly try to transfer the hell out of Dodge. The latter, those skeptical of their remote living situation, are a surprising minority. For the most part, Quadlings discover a sense of community and pride that smug Riverfolk will never know.

Quad life is all about trade-offs. It might be heartening, however, to know that while surviving the Quad might require some adjustments, it may actually make for a happier Harvard experience. Life in the Far Three fosters House spirit, independence and a general well-being. Quad-bound rising sophomores whose first instinct is to order transfer paperwork should remember that many critics before them have ended up calling their housing assignment "the best thing that could have happened." True, Quad life may eliminate 3 a.m. Tommy's, but in the cheerful words of Jones, "that just means we can spend more money on booze!"

THE COMMUTE

Without a doubt, the Quad commute definitely requires a certain degree of will power and self-discipline. A bike doesn't hurt either. But even for the most diligent students, getting Quadded can have an impact on academic priorities, e.g. Core lectures suddenly seem particularly superfluous.

THE SHUTTLE. When inclement weather strikes, the trip to the Yard usually involves a shuttle. With its colorful roster of professional chaeuffeurs, the shuttle ride offers free entertainment along with a ride. The Crazy Shuttle Driver, for example, has achieved a near cult-hero status among Quadlings, and his outrageous hijinx inevitably have commuters in stitches before their short ride ends. According to Currier resident Katherine F. Hart '01,"everybody knows about the Crazy Shuttle Driver...he yells a lot, pushes people...he just talks to everybody."

SHUTTLEBOY. The Quad-bound will find the "Shuttleboy" Unix function particularly useful. Although originally created by David Malan '99 for his friends, Shuttleboy now allows students campus-wide to view the full shuttle schedule (or customized versions) just by logging on to telnet. Setting up the function for an individual telnet account simply requires one to follow clear on-screen instructions and customizing the program by selecting the desired options. Shuttleboy automatically accounts for special holiday shuttle schedules.

HOOFING IT. Although riding the shuttle is an entertaining event in its own right, many Quad residents extol the underappreciated virtues of foot transit. The well-travelled route from Hilles to Widener is peppered with several city sights and University offices, making it surprisingly more convenient and pleasant than might at first be apparent. The registrar is on the way, along with the undergraduate economics department and the Student Disability Resource Center offices. Hoofing to and from the Yard also brings travellers by the offbeat beatniks of Cambridge Common and the dapper Sheraton Commander bellhops, as well as within smelling distance of the HUPD headquarters' donuts.

ALTERNATIVES. For those who abhor public transportation and are too efficient for foot travel, there are other options. Privileged undergraduates can park cars in the DeWolfe, Peabody Terrace or Business School parking lots for an exhorbitant fee. Jordan E. Brand '00 and Steffen Buschbacher '00 find that access to a car Brand's parents') in the Quad "makes visiting friends by the River much easier." Skateboards and Rollerblades come out of the closet when the weather is decent. For most Quad residents, however, biking provides the most convenient and accessible mode of alternative transportation (if the least skirt-friendly). Significantly faster than walking, biking doesn't require a schedule or any Shuttleboy savvy. And although pitfalls include rampant campus bike theft and recent legislation prohibiting sidewalk-riding, hordes of Quadlings agree with sophomore Luke E. Stoeckel '01: "I couldn't imagine my life without a bike."

THE SPACE

A significantly underappreciated benefit of Quad life is the actual Quadrangle itself. Bordered by the Houses, the field has hosted innumerable frisbee games, outdoor movies and afternoon sunbathers over the years. But the Quad hosts a variety of additional adventurous activities that River dwellers may be unaware of.

When asked about the wacky goings on in the field, Michael S. Bush '99 of Cabot, cites "a lot of streaking," adding "well, maybe that's just me and my roommates." Maybe. But in any case, lore surrounding co-ed naked late-night carousing on the Quad abounds. And while sprinting around in the buck is a cross-seasonal antic, snow football and sprinkler-enhanced lawn sliding are among Quadlings' beloved and more climate-dependent activities. According to Bush, the Quad field has also served as the stomping ground for toga-sporting pre-partiers performing Animal House-esque chants of "Toga!" before the debauchery commenced. Indeed, the Quad-bound can eagerly anticipate access to the biggest, most welcoming tract of playground on Harvard's campus.

An affinity for the physical Quad territory is one distinguishing characteristic of the Quadlings who learn to adore their homeland. John W.M. Moore '01, plans to transfer to Leverett next year and won't really miss the spacious field, while Quad enthusiast Brandon P. Jones '00 disagrees, claiming "it's underappreciated." Jones mentions wiffle ball and frisbee as favorite activities and procrastination techniques.

Paling by comparison, the River's MAC quad is a poor excuse for an adequate stomping ground. Although the field is put to good use, its urban locale results in more broken windows and dented cars than are reported. And though the riverbank provides adequate sunbathing territory, female bikini-top bathers can expect an earful of lewd come-ons from anonymous passing drivers. Overall, the Quad field definitely offers more of a front lawn atmosphere, and is safely out of sight from Memorial Drivers.

THE PARTIES

Quad parties have a certain cachet. Between Cabot's infamous entryway-wide toga ruckuses and Currier 10-man raves, word always reaches the Charles when something's hot on the other end of the shuttle route. The truth of the matter is, however, that Quad administrators take rules and regulations seriously, and the huge House parties of Cabot and Currier (which in the past have even had their own printed T-shirts) can require even huger amounts of preparation.

Brian Friedman '00 laments that "it's easier to adopt a small child than to have a party here [in the Currier 10-man suite]. There are all these forms we have to fill out, and the tutors are always around...they always shut it down right at 1 a.m." According to senior Mike Bush '99, however, careful preparation and planning are worthwhile because they result in respectful treatment from administrators. "The administrators are pretty cool about it," he says, "if you're good about being organized and follow all the rules." Bush stresses that the House spirit in the Quad is "just fantastic" and that House Masters and Senior Tutors are quite friendly and reasonable when it comes to party regulations.

Winthrop Resident Tutor James L. Doak '94 remembers a time when the famous "party suites" of Currier, Cabot and Pforzheimer "had a leg up" in the party scene." The top floors of PfoHo [were] always able to have great parties...because they were a few more steps away from the security guard." In the Quad of yore, "House administrators supported these rooms as social leaders," according to Doak, implying that administrators may have been somewhat more lenient with regards to these rooms' parties.

Despite all the complications, Quad parties continue to retain an impressive track record. Friedman stresses, "if people on the River hear about a party out here, it's definitely worth coming to. We get a deejay, it's great...people don't know about these things." Jones raves about the salacious details of Cabot library suite bashes. "It's fantastic," Jones says, "people, especially really attractive girls, stand on the window ledges and dance. It's great!" And though Bush admits that he doesn't think the Quad "party suites" have yet fulfilled their social potential this year, he hopes to see a change once seniors complete their theses.

THE LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIP

When a Quad housing assignment relegates one's better half to the opposite end of the shuttle map, things definitely change. In fact, Quadlings commonly agree that even platonic cross-campus friendships run into difficulty when one partner is shipped off to Old Radcliffe. But Quad-bound first-years shouldn't panic yet. While it's true that most Quad residents refute the maxim "absence makes the River heart grow fonder," it's also true that many claim assimilation into Quad culture to be a preferred alternative. And some even go so far as to assert that space has a positive effect on social relationships.

Plaguing cross-campus relationships may actually be unrecognized blessings. Geographical separation forces members of a cross-campus relationship to plan dates, call often (or, at all) and generally avoid taking each other's company for granted. It eliminates a fundamental problem with collegiate relationships--that couples see far too much of each other.

As a freshman, Katherine F. Hart '01 met her boyfriend Seamus Ryan through mutual friends. When housing results emerged last spring, Hart found herself Currier-bound while Seamus snagged a coveted River pad in Winthrop. This year, however, the couple has managed to overcome the new logistical complications of their relationship. In fact, Hart maintains that she has been able to stay close to all of her River buds successfully, attributing this achievement to extracurriculars. Hart says, "Being involved in activities that include people from a lot of different Houses has allowed me to stay in touch with my friends on the River more."

Hart's success may not come without a price, however, and she notes that since most of her friends live by the River, she attends few Quad social events and parties. In fact, many Quad residents suggest that social success requires them to focus on either Quad or River ties. While every rule has its exceptions, the experiences of many Quadlings suggest that maintaining iron-fast relationships in both River and Quad neighborhoods requires superhuman social stamina.

For students like Brandon P. Jones '00, moving to the Quad meant redefining friendships and forming new social bonds. As far as maintaining River friendships, Jones admits that he "was absolutely not able to" and rarely attends River House parties. "My friendships are now almost universally Quad-based," he says.

THE TRANSFERS

Transferring is a double-edged sword. Besides the annoying bureaucracy surrounding the process, social life setbacks can be daunting since moving into a new House requires playing a sort of catch-up game. For some, however, exiting an unhappy living situation may be worth the price. Since randomization rocked the Harvard housing scene, it seems as if transferring is everybody's new favorite extracurricular. And although Pforzheimer House Assistant to the Masters Sharon Holt claims a downward trend in transferring from that House, many current Quad residents have found their surroundings distasteful enough to desert it.

THE PROCESS. A somewhat tedious process, inter-House transferring requires potential transfers to fill out several forms and find a "host" blocking group in a desired House. A blocking group's hosting eligibility is determined by the presence of open spaces in that group, which may arise from a blockmates leave of absence or an originally sub-16 person group. Once affiliated with their new House, however, transfers are not forced to move out upon the return of the individual whose "slot" they temporarily assumed.

SOCIAL STIMULI. Quadlings may want to head to the River for a variety of reasons. Currier resident John W.M. Moore '01, plans to move to Leverett next year because of a "combination of social and convenience factors, but mostly the social." The sophomore originally blocked with his freshman roommates, but has prioritized the maintenance of his River-based friendships throughout this year. Of his original blocking group of 15, five attempted to transfer and only two were successful. Moore asserts that transferring to Leverett will not only make him happier socially, but will also "improve my academics a lot." Like many of his fellow Quadlings, he often uses "bad weather as an excuse not to go to class."

THE FUNCTIONAL FACTOR. For functionalists, the inconveniences of Quad life can make transferring worthwhile. Following the recent rape case in Byerly Hall, female Quad residents seeking to transfer have expressed concern about walking home down Garden Street alone or after nightfall. Other unhappy Quadlings have cited the far trips to athletic practices across the River. Most, however, are simply frustrated at the inaccessibility of their belongings throughout the day. One junior transfer sums up the frustration leading up to her decision to exit Currier House: "You inevitably forget a book, a problem set, a Tutorial paper. Then you've got to go chasing back to the Quad. It's huge pain."

Indeed, a happy Quad existence requires an affinity for scheduling and a penchant for planning. According to sophomore Quad enthusiast Luke Stoeckel '01, "In the morning I have to plan my whole day and pack up everything I'll need." While Stoeckel has been able to incorporate this into his daily routine without frustration, transfers commonly agree that the pitfalls of Quad life are outweighed only by the backpacks they're forced to lug around the Yard all day. Still, despite its basic inconveniences, many believe the separation between home and class is actually a positive benefit. '94 Pfoho graduate and current Winthrop resident tutor Jim Doak maintains that "there's something to be said for returning home to the Quad."

They forecast rain, but the sun is actually shining! I was supposed to chronicle a normal day in my life as a quadling, but this screws everything up. Anyways, I wake up late and dress hurriedly. Nothing unusual here.

Hmmmm...two classes today with two hours in between. I'll need a few bucks for a snack, books and notebooks for both classes, and a raincoat since it would probably rain even if they hadn't forecast it (walking to the Quad through a Nor'Easter last year turned me into a cynic).

Nobody eats breakfast in the Quad. That's not anything surprising, since nobody anywhere in college eats breakfast. I, too, skip the dining hall, throw my backpack on, and run out to the bike rack. It's 10:05 a.m. Class starts in two minutes-a quick calculation tells me I'll be three minutes, thirty-four seconds late to my Harvard Hall lecture. The closest bike rack is full, I end up being five minutes late exactly.

Class lets out at 11 a.m. I have two hours to kill, but that's not long enough to return home for any appreciable time and not be rushed. Shit, no inter-House at Adams today. Gong this! 11 a.m. is too early for lunch anyways, but I have nothing else to do and I'm avoiding my TF's office hours in Loker. I head to Holyoke to grab a seat at the awkwardly situated Campo di Fioro (spellcheck!!). I get the first chunk of the freshly baked bread du jour on my sandwich and I take mental notes on who's going into UHS.

By 11:30 a.m. I've got to get out of Holyoke. The chairs are uncomfortable and I've learned far too much information about who's on prescription medicine. I head over to the Science Center to chill in the Greenhouse and spend the rest of my BoardPlus on an overpriced Cappucino Smoothie so I won't get kicked out from my table. Try to read, fail. More people watching.

After my second class, I walk outside and try to figure out where I left my bike. Two laps around the Yard later, I spy it on the obscure rack hidden by a bush. D'oh!

I can finally head home, although it pains me to ride by the Development Office, where I'll have to come back in three hours for work. Get back to the Quad at 2:30 p.m. I'm exhausted, shoulders sore from my backpack. I remember that I forgot to turn in my Philosophy paper while I was in the Yard. Sonofa b$%@#! Bike back to Emerson (in the rain) and chuck the soggy mess into TF's mailbox.

Get back to Quad at 3 p.m. Collapse onto bed and fall asleep watching General Hospital.

THE QRAC AND QUAD SPORTS

Though the MAC is open a full 20 hours more each week, there are less overcrowding problems at the QRAC due to restricted access barring graduate students.

Tight restrictions on non-undergraduate use of the QRAC result in, according to some, a better maintained facility. And although QRAC has been likened to a "warehouse" or "military bunker," it offers some things that its stately River cousin lacks.

Smaller than the MAC, the QRAC is mainly known for its basketball and racquetball and squash courts, as well as a fairly extensive variety of Nautilus machines. While half of the main gymnasium space is always set aside for pick-up basketball, the other half can be reserved for volleyball, badminton, or other activities. Most complaints revolve around the QRAC's limited hours and lack of free weights. Interestingly enough, University records claim the facility is air-conditioned and equipped with rooftop ice-skating capabilities, but the facility actually lacks both.

Athletics play a prominent role in Quad culture and are certainly not limited to QRAC resources. Impressive Quad performance in recent Intramurals Straus Cup championships exemplifies the pride with which Quad non-varsity athletes represent their homeland. Cabot House has won the Straus Cup for the past three years and currently follows Pforzheimer in the race. In addition to focusing athletic energies into IMs, Quad Houses are also known for their exceptional weight room facilities. Currier, for example, provides access to the free weights missing from the QRAC and has a separate workout room.

THE HOUSING

Long established as a promised land of singles, the Quad does indeed offer a substantially higher proportion of single rooms to rising sophomores than many River Houses offer. Nevertheless, many a be-doubled Quad sophomore will suggest that the administration of Houses paints too rosy a picture of the singles scene.

CURRIER. According to the Currier House Assistance to the Masters, Patricia Pepper, "99 percent of the rooms [in Currier] are singles off a hallway." While Katherine Hart '01 laments that this rooming arrangement can make things lonely, there are obvious benefits to Currier's standard sophomore housing, either a single with a hall bathroom, or an adjoining single separated with a bathroom. Despite the optimistic probabilities, however, a few unlucky Currier sophomores manage to defy the lottery odds (some would say for the second time). Pepper notes that, while most sophomores in Currier will enjoy a spacious single, there are 15 corner rooms that are "occasionally" employed as sophomore doubles.

PFORZHEIMER. Pforzheimer House offers a bit more variety than Currier and accommodates sophomores in groups of two, three and four. Although the likelihood of a sophomore single "varies greatly" according to the Assistant to the Masters Sharon Holt, many of the suites are designed to accommodate an (n+1) number of students. "Because we have so many good rooms," boasts Holt, "students typically know which rooms they'll choose before the lottery." The abundance of desirable housing cuts down on scheming and room jockeying ploys during the upperclass rooming lottery, according to Holt.

CABOT. Rooming. options facing the Cabot-bound are similarly stellar according to the higher ups. "Sophomores get either a single off a hallway," claims Assistant to the Masters Susan Livingston, "or a suite for an (n+1) number of people which are often partitioned." Sophomores willing to fund "renovations" rarely have to share a bedroom. Besides allowing partitioning, the House happily concedes to opening fire-doors between adjacent rooms, thereby creating complex suites with "essentially an extra bedroom." According to Livingston, however, "the hottest property in Cabot is the Library Suite in Briggs Hall," which is traditionally snagged by seniors early on in the lottery. Overlooking the grassy Quadrangle, the sweet suite is particularly suitable for large parties and has five bedrooms, a living room and a fireplace.

OTHER THAN ORDINARY. The ample anomalies to traditional rooming setups create perhaps the most unique aspect of Quad housing. For example, the Jordan Co-Op is an extension of Cabot and houses about 30 students who rotate meal preparation duties and don't pay for Harvard board. Cabot residents desiring privacy also have the opportunity to share a wooden frame house with Senior Tutor Robert H. Neugeboren 83. This separate Cabot-affiliated residence is usually occupied by thesis-enamored seniors, although two sophomores are actually housed there this semester. Other anomalies of note are the top-floor Pforzheimer suites (which come with skylights) and the infamous Currier 10-man. Occupying space originally allotted for the House offices, the Currier suite includes ten singles and a large common area. 10-man resident Brian Friedman, '00, believes that the room has a particular social role on campus, which it has thus far dutifully upheld this year.

They forecast rain, but the sun is actually shining! I was supposed to chronicle a normal day in my life as a quadling, but this screws everything up. Anyways, I wake up late and dress hurriedly. Nothing unusual here.

Hmmmm...two classes today with two hours in between. I'll need a few bucks for a snack, books and notebooks for both classes, and a raincoat since it would probably rain even if they hadn't forecast it (walking to the Quad through a Nor'Easter last year turned me into a cynic).

Nobody eats breakfast in the Quad. That's not anything surprising, since nobody anywhere in college eats breakfast. I, too, skip the dining hall, throw my backpack on, and run out to the bike rack. It's 10:05 a.m. Class starts in two minutes-a quick calculation tells me I'll be three minutes, thirty-four seconds late to my Harvard Hall lecture. The closest bike rack is full, I end up being five minutes late exactly.

Class lets out at 11 a.m. I have two hours to kill, but that's not long enough to return home for any appreciable time and not be rushed. Shit, no inter-House at Adams today. Gong this! 11 a.m. is too early for lunch anyways, but I have nothing else to do and I'm avoiding my TF's office hours in Loker. I head to Holyoke to grab a seat at the awkwardly situated Campo di Fioro (spellcheck!!). I get the first chunk of the freshly baked bread du jour on my sandwich and I take mental notes on who's going into UHS.

By 11:30 a.m. I've got to get out of Holyoke. The chairs are uncomfortable and I've learned far too much information about who's on prescription medicine. I head over to the Science Center to chill in the Greenhouse and spend the rest of my BoardPlus on an overpriced Cappucino Smoothie so I won't get kicked out from my table. Try to read, fail. More people watching.

After my second class, I walk outside and try to figure out where I left my bike. Two laps around the Yard later, I spy it on the obscure rack hidden by a bush. D'oh!

I can finally head home, although it pains me to ride by the Development Office, where I'll have to come back in three hours for work. Get back to the Quad at 2:30 p.m. I'm exhausted, shoulders sore from my backpack. I remember that I forgot to turn in my Philosophy paper while I was in the Yard. Sonofa b$%@#! Bike back to Emerson (in the rain) and chuck the soggy mess into TF's mailbox.

Get back to Quad at 3 p.m. Collapse onto bed and fall asleep watching General Hospital.

THE QRAC AND QUAD SPORTS

Though the MAC is open a full 20 hours more each week, there are less overcrowding problems at the QRAC due to restricted access barring graduate students.

Tight restrictions on non-undergraduate use of the QRAC result in, according to some, a better maintained facility. And although QRAC has been likened to a "warehouse" or "military bunker," it offers some things that its stately River cousin lacks.

Smaller than the MAC, the QRAC is mainly known for its basketball and racquetball and squash courts, as well as a fairly extensive variety of Nautilus machines. While half of the main gymnasium space is always set aside for pick-up basketball, the other half can be reserved for volleyball, badminton, or other activities. Most complaints revolve around the QRAC's limited hours and lack of free weights. Interestingly enough, University records claim the facility is air-conditioned and equipped with rooftop ice-skating capabilities, but the facility actually lacks both.

Athletics play a prominent role in Quad culture and are certainly not limited to QRAC resources. Impressive Quad performance in recent Intramurals Straus Cup championships exemplifies the pride with which Quad non-varsity athletes represent their homeland. Cabot House has won the Straus Cup for the past three years and currently follows Pforzheimer in the race. In addition to focusing athletic energies into IMs, Quad Houses are also known for their exceptional weight room facilities. Currier, for example, provides access to the free weights missing from the QRAC and has a separate workout room.

THE HOUSING

Long established as a promised land of singles, the Quad does indeed offer a substantially higher proportion of single rooms to rising sophomores than many River Houses offer. Nevertheless, many a be-doubled Quad sophomore will suggest that the administration of Houses paints too rosy a picture of the singles scene.

CURRIER. According to the Currier House Assistance to the Masters, Patricia Pepper, "99 percent of the rooms [in Currier] are singles off a hallway." While Katherine Hart '01 laments that this rooming arrangement can make things lonely, there are obvious benefits to Currier's standard sophomore housing, either a single with a hall bathroom, or an adjoining single separated with a bathroom. Despite the optimistic probabilities, however, a few unlucky Currier sophomores manage to defy the lottery odds (some would say for the second time). Pepper notes that, while most sophomores in Currier will enjoy a spacious single, there are 15 corner rooms that are "occasionally" employed as sophomore doubles.

PFORZHEIMER. Pforzheimer House offers a bit more variety than Currier and accommodates sophomores in groups of two, three and four. Although the likelihood of a sophomore single "varies greatly" according to the Assistant to the Masters Sharon Holt, many of the suites are designed to accommodate an (n+1) number of students. "Because we have so many good rooms," boasts Holt, "students typically know which rooms they'll choose before the lottery." The abundance of desirable housing cuts down on scheming and room jockeying ploys during the upperclass rooming lottery, according to Holt.

CABOT. Rooming. options facing the Cabot-bound are similarly stellar according to the higher ups. "Sophomores get either a single off a hallway," claims Assistant to the Masters Susan Livingston, "or a suite for an (n+1) number of people which are often partitioned." Sophomores willing to fund "renovations" rarely have to share a bedroom. Besides allowing partitioning, the House happily concedes to opening fire-doors between adjacent rooms, thereby creating complex suites with "essentially an extra bedroom." According to Livingston, however, "the hottest property in Cabot is the Library Suite in Briggs Hall," which is traditionally snagged by seniors early on in the lottery. Overlooking the grassy Quadrangle, the sweet suite is particularly suitable for large parties and has five bedrooms, a living room and a fireplace.

OTHER THAN ORDINARY. The ample anomalies to traditional rooming setups create perhaps the most unique aspect of Quad housing. For example, the Jordan Co-Op is an extension of Cabot and houses about 30 students who rotate meal preparation duties and don't pay for Harvard board. Cabot residents desiring privacy also have the opportunity to share a wooden frame house with Senior Tutor Robert H. Neugeboren 83. This separate Cabot-affiliated residence is usually occupied by thesis-enamored seniors, although two sophomores are actually housed there this semester. Other anomalies of note are the top-floor Pforzheimer suites (which come with skylights) and the infamous Currier 10-man. Occupying space originally allotted for the House offices, the Currier suite includes ten singles and a large common area. 10-man resident Brian Friedman, '00, believes that the room has a particular social role on campus, which it has thus far dutifully upheld this year.