As the Danish cohousing movement gains strength in the US, one group finally gets cozy in its new digs.
Elizabeth Locke envisions holiday gatherings and an outdoor campfire; Rosemary Kennedy is planning a reading group; Mike Arnott wants a woodworking room; 7-year-old Kira just needs a place to perform her play about the tooth fairy.Skip to next paragraph
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The expectations for cohousing - an English translation of the Danish bofaellesskaber ("living community") - are diverse in their specifics, but share a hunger for togetherness and a longing to escape the cloistered domestic privacy that can verge on isolation.
For one group in Cambridge, Mass., that longing has fueled an eight-year quest - one that culminates this winter, as they move into four red-trimmed buildings in shades of green, brown, yellow, and blue.
The members of Cornerstone are squeezing into 32 apartments and town houses on an acre and a third: a narrow triangle of land that will hold 34 women, 14 men, 14 girls, and 6 boys. They include single parents and retirees, a 90-something and a 6-week-old. Residents' jobs range from computer expert to baker, taxi driver to nuclear scientist.
They're part of a growing movement, one that's old news in Denmark and the rest of Scandinavia, but has just begun taking root in the US over the past two decades.
American housing "has evolved towards greater privacy," says Katie McCamant, author of "CoHousing: A Contemporary Approach to Housing Ourselves," (Ten Speed Press, $29.95) and a founder of the American cohousing movement. Cohousers crave "a sense of coming home to something bigger than an empty house," she says.
Though each unit has its own kitchen, a common house offers space for communal cooking, arts and crafts, a teen room, and a shared office. Every big decision is made by consensus, with discussion continuing until all present agree, and the cost of baby sitters hired during meetings is shared by everyone - not just parents.
Elizabeth Locke, affectionately called the "founding mother" by members, first dreamed of the Cornerstone community around 1990, when she took an evening class on cohousing. She'd lived in communal households in the 1960s and '70s - including one group of up to a dozen "ex-hippies" that lasted 17 years.
But raising two children in a communal home, with so many surrogate parents, proved uncomfortable. Locke reluctantly moved out to experiment with life as a nuclear family.
For a while, flanked by two families that spontaneously shared meals, she had the perfect balance. But when both neighbors moved, she realized how fragile that network can be. "It's wonderful while it lasts, but it's easy to lose," she says. "I wanted a situation where, even though there would be turnover, the intention to know and help each other would always be there."
So in 1993, she launched Cornerstone. Over the years, she says, it's been "very moving to see the depth of hunger for community."
It's a hunger that moved Mary Elizabeth Ford, a 30-year resident of the Bronx, to leave friends and her work in New York for a Cornerstone apartment and a new job as a high school psychologist. "As a single person," she says, "one of the attractions is seeing people on a daily basis. When you're in a couple, you see [someone] day-to-day whether you like it or not."
Like Ms. Locke, Ms. Ford is no stranger to communal living. After college, she joined Maryknoll in Ossining, N.Y., a missionary community where she lived with up to 400 women. Now, she's ready for something less confining - a "part-time" group with men and women, old and young.
In the Bronx, she'd met other New Yorkers who wanted to live in a cohousing community - but local property was expensive, and the groups disbanded. When she heard of Cornerstone, she visited Cambridge for a potluck dinner, tagged along on a rugged retreat in western Massachusetts, clicked with the group - and within six months, had signed up.
What makes her a good fit? "I'm fun to be around," she says with a laugh. "I have skills in communication and problem solving." And a flare for leniency: When her neighbor asked if she could move her wall five feet and encroach on one of Ford's upstairs bedroom, she agreed.
Now in her third month at Cornerstone, Ford puts those skills to good use. When tasks such as snow-shoveling came up, she tacked a list of chores to a bulletin board - and watched with satisfaction as Cornerstoners filled it with their names.
When her downstairs neighbor, Jane Eisenstark, called to talk, Ford invited her up for soup - and Ms. Eisenstark brought along veggie burgers to share.
Ford eats out less than she ever has and relishes the freedom conferred by trust: "One of the nicest things," she says, "is to be home and not have your front door locked - when somebody rings the bell, you can yell out, 'Come in!' "