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"A place to be yourself."
Well, I suppose he could be right. I've lived here four years and I think I'm still myself. But I think what he's talking about is that you can do anything you want to do here, and the others who live around you won't look down upon you, no matter what you choose to do. People are more open-minded here than anywhere else I have ever been. One guy is running around the house naked, threatening to rub his balls in grown men's faces. Another is sitting quietly reading Shakespeare. At the same time three others are managing to communicate without problem in a conversation in which 90% of the words used are 'monkey,' 'donkey,' and 'baby.' Two people in the room to my right continue to study as if nothing is unusual. This is TDC.
"A place without rules"
He could be right. There isn't a rule against destroying the house. Walking
down the hallway I cannot find a section of wall that has not needed to be
patched. Sometimes people like to get fucked up and break things. Sometimes
their own things aren't enough. Is it disrespectful? If it were who would
be disrespected? The one who broke it? That's not the feel here. Just fix
it dumb-ass mofo. One week, one month, or maybe one year later, it's fixed
and there's another patch in the wall.
"Rules?" he asks. "I'm not supposed to kick down the door when
I'm sexiled from my room." This one, I think, is making fun of me for
asking. But it's been done before. Doors aren't any more sacred than the walls.
He mentions one rule: "No smoking in the TV room. But no one pays any
attention to it." He's a smoker. Which redefines the premise: each has
his own rules. Some have a rule against throwing eggs at the neighboring fraternity's
cars. Others don't. Now the lower right panel of the front door has been kicked-in
in response. Now it's boarded up. Just one more patch in the wall. This is
TDC.
"A place to get fucked up"
Well, I suppose he could be right. He's the one who comes from the strict
Catholic family which smothered him to an extent that makes him savor his
current relative freedom. "Here I can wake up, take a hit from my bong,
wash it down with the beer I fell asleep with last night. Then I can walk
right over to class and learn some real shit man." He has this thing
about how his Catholic high-school didn't teach him anything. It tends to
blow it out of his mouth almost as often as he does the smoke.
Others tell the story of the 'safe environment.' Here, if you party hard and
can't handle it, others will cover for you. If you break things, it doesn't
matter. If you say things that would hurt most people, they understand. Are
people just detached? No, that's not it. They respect the environment. The
one's who party know what it is and leave it there. The ones who never party
learn about it, and then laugh either with them or at them. It's just part
of home. This is TDC.
"This place is diversity, man."
He could be right. Depends upon what he's talking about though. Brothers are white, black, Indian, or Korean. Or something else. Brothers are musicians, artists, engineers, writers, athletes or comic book readers. Or something else. Some brothers study all day, some haven't been to class in weeks. Some become officers and take the initiative to lead the house, others couldn't care less about who leads the house or where they lead it. In the end, each individual leads it in his own way by doing the things he likes to do, involving others when they want to be involved, and going it alone when they don't. This is a place where you are not rushed because you fit the mold, but because you will recreate the mold in a way that fits around you. This is a place to be who you are when doing so might directly conflict with the beliefs of those around you. This place is about accepting that conflict, and learning to enjoy and respect it. This is TDC.
"Fun, dude."
He could be right. This place is more about fun and play than work. The
work gets done but it isn't talked about. The fun is rehashed and becomes
a small part of more fun. The fun comes at dinner when we all sit and eat
together and suddenly everyone in the room is making animal noises. It comes
at the Jello party when we jump into the Jello pit and wrestle each other
into sticky monkeys. It comes at three in the morning the night before the
problem set is due and no one wants to do it and "um, so let's watch
another episode of Syffle and Ollie."
Fun is the games of Menterosa, Mexican. Fun is the chef who sounds like Porky
Pig, who serves you your cheeseburger and asks, "Want fwies with that?,"
who bakes you a cake for your birthday in the shape of a penis. You always
wanted one just like that, you just didn't know it. Fun is listening to the
house band blast through the Peevey's in the pub, which is filled past capacity.
Fun is destroying the kitchen before the freshmen have to clean it during
winter work week. Fun is drawing all over the drunk that passed out on the
mailroom couch. It's all fun. This is TDC.