Royal Quadlings

Up a winding garden road, past Cambridge’s Common (and river-dwelling commoners), nestled amongst regal Cantabridgian Victorians, is a little slice of heaven called the Quadrangle. It is here where fortunate princes and princesses reside in the Castles Currier, Cabot, and Pforzheimer. Don’t believe me? We have towers to prove it; four in Currier alone, from which illustrious dukes occasionally launch water balloon crusades from the turrets onto rogue river-dwellers who venture into our lands.

We drink Coronas (and wear them too). We have elite palace guards (Currier Bells Desk), red carpet (coincidence?), and a bell tower. We have chauffeurs, singles, and crimsonfood.com. We also get sympathy. But who knows why?

Welcome to thy kingdom Quad. It’s time to dispel the myths of tears and transfers. We are knights in shining armor, not damsels in distress—and the class of 2008 can only hope to become heirs to the throne.

Freshmen should know now that if their courier didn’t bring them a letter reading Currier, Cabot or Pforzheimer, they are missing out. In the Quad, we are loved by the party scene, loved by the university, and mostly loved by each other. That’s right—the mythical “Quad Solidarity” isn’t some fairy tale, it’s for real. And it’s not just crowded morning shuttle rides that make quadlings feel close to each other. We eat together, study together, play sports together, and party together. More than any of the River Houses, we live together. As Brooks B. Lambert-Sluder ’05 commented, “Especially Currier, but also in Pfoho and Cabot, you don’t have the feeling of stand alone entryways. There’s an incredible social feeling in the Quad.” And quadlings aren’t the only ones who think the grass is greener on Linnaean street. Virginia C. Fritsch ’07, a Quincy resident, told me “[she] would love to live in the Quad,” citing “a sense of community here” which is lacking in the River Houses. She also noted that she frequently goes out and ends up at a Quad party. Who doesn’t?

It’s not just the ability to party in our slippers that makes us love the Quad so much. We are well-fed, well-housed, and damn talented up here in Harvard’s northern woods. Our dining halls boast the best cooks (check the survey), we have the Pfoho Grille, and now crimsonfood.com delivers right to our doors. In the Quad, we have a higher frequency of singles—and obviously larger rooms in general—than any of the River Houses (with the exception of Mather’s lovely prison cells). There must be some correlation between being satiated and well-housed and Quadlings’ athletic skills, evidently: The Straus Cup record of seven consecutive wins remains in the Quad with Cabot House. The River Houses should know better than to mess with people who walk miles everyday. It’s training, not punishment.

The class of 2008 should be excited about the possibility of Quad living. If not for the food, the shuttle, the singles, or the raw athletic skill, for the anticipation of living with ridiculously good-looking people. After all, the sex survey in the Independent in May 2004 did note that “debauchery prevails” in the Quad.

So for those of you lucky enough to be joining our ranks, don’t despair: In the Quad, you’ll live happily ever after.

Lauren R. Foote ‘07, a Crimson editorial editor, is a Romance Languages and Literatures concentrator in Currier House.