"I want to be stereotyped. I want to be classified."--Descendents, "Suburban Home"
You might think it would be very difficult to describe the culture of an
organization in which 80 to 90 percent of the members are new every
year.
It isn't, but don't tell that to people, because they hate it.
Unlike
Stanford True Love
Waits,
EBF is not "dedicated to preserving the traditional institution of
marriage, the virtue of chastity, and the idea that sexual relationships
are best conducted in the unconditional, lifelong commitment of a
marital setting."
In fact, EBF has no stated mission or theme at all, and residents do
not explicitly or implicitly comply with any particular philosophy when
they decide to live here (with the notable exception that they do sign a
house agreement saying that they will do their house and kitchen jobs,
and generally be respectful of others).
What, then, characterizes our little
community-by-the-occasional-lake?
Start by considering that we are a group of Stanford students (and
hangers-on) who have chosen (or whose draw-mates chose) to live (or eat)
in the non-themed co-op house farthest from the center of campus. This
may not sound like much to go by, but already it narrows the field to a
fairly distinct group of people. EBF folks tend to prefer an atmosphere
where nonconformity with various Stanford norms (if you have lived in a
dorm, you know what I'm talking about) is accepted and even encouraged,
and no particular subculture or way of life is exclusively promoted.
Of course, for any co-op to work, some values need to be shared by
residents: namely, respect for others and responsibility for the house
as a community and as a physical space.
In practice, this translates to:
In general, it may be safe to say
that EBF is a community of individualists: technically, "a group of
people who live and work together, who are not all wacky in the same
way, but rather are wacky in their own special ways and respect the
wackiness of each other."
