A Place to Break (Homemade) Bread

With its imposing decor and Kodak-moment perfection, Annenberg holds more appeal for gawking tourists than hungry first-years. Nevertheless, most Yardlings
By Jason D. Park

With its imposing decor and Kodak-moment perfection, Annenberg holds more appeal for gawking tourists than hungry first-years. Nevertheless, most Yardlings simply accept the lackluster food, overcrowded tables and abrasive Domna interactions as part of their culinary rites of passage.

However, for Kyle R. McCarthy ’06, the traditional Harvard first-year experience was simply too much too bear. “I think Annenberg is a terrible place. It’s really dark, the food is depressing,” says McCarthy, a vegetarian. “I wanted to cook for myself and the food I like to eat is generally not available in dining halls.”

Fed up with Annenberg and longing for a communal living experience, McCarthy and Canaday entrymates Amanda W. Martin ’06 and Jessica M. Marglin ’06 made the unconventional decision to transfer to the Dudley Cooperative this semester. “It’s much more of a community feeling,” Martin says. “Living in a real house with someone and cooking [with them] is much different than just living in a dorm and doing homework with someone. There’s a lot more meaningful interaction.” Martin, a vegan, adds that she was “starving herself” in Annenberg.

The Dudley Co-op is an elective program that houses 32 undergraduates and falls under the umbrella of Dudley House, which provides tutors and other resources for students who opt out of the traditional House system. Interested students must interview with Assistant Senior Tutor Kristin Scheible and eat a meal in the Co-op to get a sense of the “experience.” If they are still interested, then their names are placed on a rolling wait list. Although there seems to be more interest than available spaces, College Housing Officer David Woodberry notes that prospective Co-op members should not be discouraged. “Most often, the wait list is used up,” he says. As the Dudley Co-op is technically “on campus,” first-years are also allowed to join.

Co-op members live at one of the program’s two houses, which are located on Sacramento St. and Mass. Ave., several blocks from the Quad, and pay a reduced rooming fee to Harvard. Cooking and cleaning, handled independently by Dudley residents, are delegated by a point system, with each resident receiving a point quota and different jobs receiving different point values.

The unassuming-looking Sacramento St. house, where food is cooked and served, is a warm, quaint labyrinth of spacious rooms decorated with politically-charged posters and a hodgepodge of collected pop culture memorabilia. Generally, meals are eaten in a casual dinner table setting and are open to visitors. The offerings cater to Dudley’s primarily vegetarian and vegan population.

McCarthy admits that the transition to cooperative living was not always smooth. “The second time I made bread I forgot to put salt in it,” McCarthy says. “Then I got three e-mails that were like, ‘Hey, nice bread.’ It was really embarrassing. When you cook for others you want it to be good, and when you fuck up it’s in a very public way.”

All three note that living in the Co-op has distanced them somewhat from the other first-years. “I’d say that probably more of my friends now aren’t freshmen as they were in the fall,” Martin says. “But the friendships I’ve made here are definitely stronger.”

Despite the addition of compost, salt-less bread and a few minutes walking distance to their daily lives, none of the freshmen regret their decision. “Living in the Co-op, it actually feels like I’m living my own life,” says Marglin, daughter of Ec 10 reform champion Barker Professor of Economics Stephen A. Marglin and a designated compost specialist in the Co-op. “It felt a little bit regressive to have my cooking and cleaning taken care of for me. I like the feeling of ownership that I have here.”

McCarthy agrees, “I’m not too important to scrub my own toilet.”

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