More people should live together in big houses, and help each other do whatever it is that they do. For the past thirteen months (at the time of this writing) I have lived in the Huckleberry Ashram, a group house located in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. It has been an extraordinary example of the possibilities inherent in a group house. Our goals have been these: to pursue our own educations, on our own, at our own paces and in as wholistic a manner as possible; to integrate learning into our daily individual lives; to make learning and working on various projects that interest us part of our social circle's social life; to encourage creativity -- to make ourselves and our friends comfortable with having ideas and sharing them; to stimulate us all sufficiently that we could have ideas; to create linkages among people; to foster group spirit and celebrate the possibly-neglected talents of all who belong. In all these things we have succeeded.
There is far too much talent going to waste. Think of all your friends: what extraordinary things can they do? Take the time to make a mental catalogue. You'll probably be surprised. And now ask this question: what extraordinary things are they doing? Similarly, think: what interests do your friends have? And then: how many of those interests are they pursuing? What are all your friends learning? Why not more? This is the wealthiest, most information-saturated nation in human history. Why isn't everybody getting ten times better, year by year? Is it from lack of encouragement? Lack of support? Lack of resources? It is probably not from lack of ability. At the Ashram we try to provide encouragement and support, and arrange to get resources. We encourage everyone to pursue as much of their curiosity as they can, at as high a level of accomplishment as is possible, and many of the social rhythms of the house are comprised simply of taking an interest in one another's thoughts and activities.
Every week we have a soiree, whose format is "bring-your-own-vegetable stir-fry". First we have dinner, then we sit around and talk. Originally, the plan was that we would all discuss the ideas we had had or read since last time, going around the group and giving everyone a chance to speak, but it turned out that not everyone's interests and ways of thinking were sufficiently discursive for that to work in a large group. The soirees soon settled down into a time where we all shared our energy. Sometimes activities break out spontaneously, other times they are planned. Once we made sock puppets and performed Oedipus Rex. (A highlight film is available.) Another time we made gargoyles out of salt dough and then made a little city out of boxes for them to inhabit.
In addition to the weekly soirees, there are Special Events. From time to time we have art shows, moving all the first-floor furniture downstairs, preparing and hanging works by a friend of ours, and inviting as many people as we possibly can, even those who were not part of the regular "community." We've had seminars. My mother gave a pie-making seminar which was very well received, and our friend Janice's mother gave a bread-making seminar which was probably better organized but has had less of an impact in our diets. Furthermore, we have had an Informal Lecture Series: "The work of T.S. Eliot" and "An Introduction to Japanese Writing Systems", both of which occured during soirees; and, "Being American in the Global Village" which was held outdoors in a public place. These, like the soirees, were opportunities for those of us with some special knowledge to share it with others and to reinforce the idea that discussion and use of such knowledge should be a natural part of our daily life and our interactions with one another.
We have had a big project going since January. It's called Penelope the Psychic Girl and it's a screwball comedy about religious philosophy. It's a graphic novel; one of us wrote the script and between eight and eleven of us have been drawing it, slowly but somewhat steadily, all this time. We'll have published it ourselves by July and attempted to get it into local comic shops. [It remains unfinished as of 3/10/93 -- Ed.]
This is not to mention the intangibles: the writing and reading we've all gotten done, the wonderful ideas we've had, and the wonderful conversations that we've had.
How did we create an atmosphere of warmth and encouragement for thinking, and a feeling of bonding within the group, and make the house an enjoyable and stimulating place to come to?
Three rules were followed at first, in order to make everyone comfortable with the idea of sharing their spontaneity with the others:
So far this has been a particular description of what we have done. I think that our experiences have indicated the validity of a more general model of community. There follows a description of what I think has been essential to our success, and would be necessary for anyone else to implement if they wished to try to reproduce our accomplishments in whole or in part.
It turns out in our experience that cooperative houses which are to function as creative centers for community function like this: you don't have to pack them with all superhuman people. You need at least two people who understand the ideal of mutually stimulating creative community and are willing to take on the responsibility of paying attention to it and tending it, keeping it going -- and then you can just pick up anybody around them, so long as they are good natured, have some talent, and are amenable to the ideals as described to them. Then everybody plays over their heads, so to speak. Think of these two people as the "visionaries." There can be more visionaries, but there needn't be. Only one could work but we've found that if one person is the most visible member of the community and seems to be making all the decisions, some resentment can result. The unfortunate perception of autocracy can easily arise if only one person is taking on the majority of the responsibilities, whether emotional or organizational, for the group. That's why we say at least two.
One more thing to be careful about is to always remember that everybody's attitude is the most important thing about the house, and that the intangibles are the primary accomplishement. Don't get caught up in projects and activities so much that everybody feels compelled to do stuff. Outward action should be a reflection of everybody's energy and should arise naturally from it. Above all, the Ashram concept is that everybody does what they were going to do anyway, except that they do it all together, and then become surprised at how much they're all doing thanks to the peer pressure and encouragement! The Ashram isn't a structure, but a system of linkages. If it ever becomes a burden something is wrong.
Earlier in this article you were asked to make a mental catalogue of the resources that you and your friends have among yourselves; emotional, intellectual, social, spiritual, material. Making a commitment that they are not going to be wasted is a big step, especially for a whole group of people to make together. But, only two people need to really make it. Then they organize a house. Once this is done, and once the weekly events become a fixture in the social circles of their friends, and special events start to happen, it will require very little effort for everyone else to take part. Everyone else will want to come over and spend time with the most interesting people they know. Everyone else will want to contribute their ideas, their spontaneity, their creativity. Everyone else will want to talk about doing big projects. Creativity and intelligence feed on themselves; the Ashram is a way of bringing lots of both together in one place so that it reaches critical mass and start to bouy up everybody with the energy of the group.
The soirees are, clearly, the most visible and regular meeting of all this creativity and intelligence. (Not to mention warmth, concern, and affection -- hey, not only are we intellectuals, we're sensitive, wonderful intellectuals.) In the context of the group dynamics, having a routine time for getting together also provides a visible form of belongingness which is accessible to everyone whether they live at the house or not. Once the soirees were established, it was no longer necessary to live at the Ashram to be an essential part of it. Generically, then, some ritual is necessary to the functioning of any group modeled after the Ashram: a regular time for the group to meet and do what they do together.
Now to mention three aspects of the house itself. First, space. Over and above the social benefits of group housing for the purposes of community-building, the existence of a space which is dedicated as the central point of operations is tremendously effective. We have five second-hand couches (count 'em, five) at the Ashram and our central location in Pittsburgh's East End makes us a good crash spot for friends and visitors.
Second, information. The type and quality of information to be found just lying around is very important. We have a television, but it's not in any common area. We subscribe to several excellent magazines, and constantly have fresh library books lying around. All of us have overambitious reading lists, and we buy a lot of books. Insisting on the highest quality of information for ourselves, and insisting that it be of a type that is, in the main, directly useful to us and our interests is one of the more satisfying things we have done at the Ashram. Having identified our goals and interests, the active choice and pursuit of information which will be useful to us follows quite naturally. The cooperative arrangement makes it possible to inexpensively subscribe as a group to various magazines, and a central, prominent location for our periodicals makes it possible for magazines which only one person is consistently interested in enough to pay for, to still be available to all. (Frequently one hears immoderate comments about conformity, of how Americans' passivity is a bad thing, of how more people should "form their own opinions." I don't think we should set our goals this high. It is unnecessary to require people to have their own thoughts when all that is necessary is that they exercise a little more discrimination. There is plenty of excellent information available for people to take in -- they just don't!)
Finally, economy. The centerpiece of the original Ashram proposal was Thoreauvian Economy -- we all planned to live as simply as possible in order to maximize our time and other resources for the pursuit of our educations, or of our lives, which amounts to the same thing. Cooperative housing is a significant means towards this end.
In sum, to do what we have done, do the following: Decide with some friends to live life as a whole and to harness all of your talents. Start a cooperative house, in which at least two people live who are committed to the vision of this community and are willing to devote considerable amounts of time and energy to it. The only thing everybody else has to do is think that it's a good idea. Establish a ritual; some sort of routine event which provides some identity for the group. Try to extend the community beyond the house -- the ritual makes it possible to be a full member of the community without having to actually live in the house. Value every moment: write down ideas, think of every idle conversation as a brainstorming session. Finally, you might want to work up to big projects which bring together the various talents of everyone. There are certainly other directions to be taken with this model than the one which we have taken; this particular vision was one of creative community. It is easy to imagine a house such as ours where the emphasis is on getting a lot of work done; less extroverted and more individually oriented -- something like an artist's colony. Or there could be a house whose emphasis was political activism. Or, one whose emphasis was on group spirituality, over and above group creativity. And so forth.
It was pointed out to me by members of the community who read drafts of this article that I have described us all at our best. Of course, we're not always at our best. What I have described are the highlights. But they are no less real for being highlights, and they occurred with really remarkable frequency, all things considered.