Month: September 2017

I finally got to have an in-depth, one-on-one conversation with the archivist today after my class. Liz Argentieri pulled up a couple of documents about the Shakers, as I had informed her about our class text’s chapter on the community. She told me that, in a town ten minutes from my school, there existed our very own Shaker community, now the site of Groveland’s Correctional Facility. Funny how things turn out.

As we sat at a small desk in the room containing the Geneseo town archive, Argentieri explained to me the difference between the two rooms; the town archive in one room is more free to the public, where students and townspeople are able to browse after having the room unlocked by the librarian. The other archive, or what Argentieri was explaining as less of a legitimate archive, holds historical documents from SUNY Geneseo as a university. Here, documents like school newspapers or meeting minutes are kept and only in an extremely rare instance is anyone, besides the library’s staff, allowed to peruse its shelves. Those interested in particular documents should request them and a member of the staff will enter the room to remove the records for them. In general, she explains that neither of these rooms abide by the strict definition of an archive — if they did, she briefly explained the tedious process of removing records that have expired and are no longer necessary.

Argentieri also searched Geneseo’s online database with me, using particular keywords that might engage something within the archives. Using the search term “commun*,” we already found a lot of activity and I plan on looking into that further. Hey, if the Shakers set up a community close by, who’s to say that Geneseo doesn’t have a rich history of intentional communities? Who’s to say Livingston County’s intentional communities just haven’t been compiled into a book yet? This is why archival work is so interesting.

I left the library at 5pm today (I’m back again, making this my fourth stay here in the past 24 hours) with such an excitement about me. Recently, I’ve been going through old scrapbooks in my sorority house (founded in 1885), and although I’d love to see the old old records (I’m talking back in the day when we were founded as a literary society), I’m sure they’re long gone. The other day, I flipped through the pages of a 1988 binder where I found typewriter-printed pages full of meeting minutes, letters addressed to Governor Mario Cuomo (asking if he’d please be our commencement speaker — he rejected), and old court case files from when someone burglarized our home. Other than the thrill of looking through these blasts from the past, I feel a deep disappointment in myself, now Recording Secretary and Cabinet member in my sorority, that we don’t print things anymore. Actually, scratch that — that we don’t save things anymore. (Save trees). Funny enough, just today we were surprised to open the door to see two women in their late 50s, alumni. They told us they lived at the house in 1974! I remembered exactly where I had seen the scrapbook from that year and pulled it down from the shelf for them to look at. (Am I my own kind of archivist now?). Anyway, you can tell the meeting with the archivist went really well and I’m excited to be able to log our community’s documents in an orderly and accessible way.

Cody and I loved our dinner at the co-op. We enjoyed a delicious vegetarian taco meal and shared our “rose,” “thorn,” and “buds” of the day/week. The rose means you describe the best part of your day, the thorn the worst, and the bud is something you’re looking forward to. Many of us mentioned being done with schoolwork and enjoying the weekend as our “buds.” I felt like I was among a group of casual friends, and was invited to come hangout at the co-op anytime.

Later, on the walk home, Cody and I asked each other whether or not this was “the one,” the community we’d like to research. Cody mentioned wanting to check out the monastery down the road a bit before we decide which I agreed to. I think as far as accessibility and ability to archive data, the co-op seems like a great place to start this journey. In a way, I feel like I’m journeying with the co-op on their way toward hopeful success. Plus, one of their extremely impressive members has already transferred all of their documents onto Google Drive so that new members have a record of the group’s history and are given a working guideline of how to run the organization.

Here are some pictures of the outside of the co-op, and the amazing meal we enjoyed as a group:

 

 

I made a visit to the archivist this morning to find out more about the New College archives – what goes into them, how one accesses them, how they are managed on a daily basis, and their relationship to the digital world. The archivist, Ana, let me into one of the rooms to see the shelves lined with large, light blue folders. The folders contain various forms of insight into New College intellectual and cultural history – meeting minutes, photos, commencement programs. You can even find out about previous college presidents and conferences that took place at the school.

She pointed out two distinct ways that information usually makes its way into the archive – by  the will of the archivist or community member or simply by donation. For example, there is a difference between a professor donating their work upon retirement and the archivist getting a hold of it because they’ve decided it would be a valuable addition. A large part of the job of the archivist is to use their judgement in determining the content of the archive. What is important? What makes sense?

For access to the archive, a student simply has to email the archivist and make an appointment. Rather than letting the student into one of the two (exceedingly cold) archive rooms, the archivist typically brings to them what the material they are looking for. Usually people have questions on building history. With buildings built by the Ringling brothers and I.M. Pei, New College has a unique architectural history.

Only a portion of the physical collection is translated into a digital format available online. Things like newspaper articles and old journals cannot be found online because of copyright laws, but you can find a large range of collections. Titles include: Office of Public Affairs, Alumnae Association, Fine Arts Institute, Library Records, Students Publications. While these resources are not useful for finding out more about local intentional communities, they are a resource for how to study and record culture. Assessing what parts of the New College community are emphasized in these collections will give us insight on what information is useful to gaining a full understanding of a community. The types of documents and forms saved in both the physical and digital archive can help us determine what topics to ask questions on. Whether or not these same forms of information are available in the intentional community of study, memory and word of mouth can serve as a medium of cultural knowledge. The goal of our project is to accurately record and represent this cultural knowledge to preserve it in an archival website. Just like the NCF digital archives, this site will be available to anyone with a computer and internet access, bringing an understanding of a unique intentional community into the larger world.

I was not surprised to hear about the failure of the working cooperative for the mine in West Virginia. However, I am surprised that such an idea would matter when it comes to intentional communities. I think the idea of worker owned businesses is a good idea that can achieve many positive results such as lower levels of pollution, better treatment of workers, and better wages. This is similar to socialist ideas of what society should look like. However, this brand of socialism has almost never been practiced in a socialist society, only in capitalist societies have these socialist enclaves happened. It would make sense for ideas such as this to take hold in a communist country that believes in workers owning the means of production but unfortunately it almost always turns out to be some detached government employee running mines and factories like this instead of the workers themselves.

It is quite ironic that communities that plan on dominating member’s lives and actions are easiest to set up in the most libertarian places. On one hand you have the laws that come into place because of the idea that individualism is the most important value and on the other hand the people most utilizing those laws want to be a part of a community that exercises strong control over their lives and how they live. However, both groups do have the same idea that they probably do not want the government telling them what they can or cannot do.

The hunger to Be and not to Have seems to be very healthy for humans to have. This desire is probably the main reason Twin Oaks has been able to be so successful. This idea is quite common in the mystical aspects of religious traditions such as Christian mystics or Muslim Sufis or some Buddhist monks. It is surprising that this idea would be found in a secular community that had no real religion of their own except of their own philosophy.

The common theme that I’ve found in the communities of Twin Oaks and Acorn is that they need to be small and like minded. Maybe this is obvious, but egalitarianism seems hard to maintain if there isn’t a smaller population, as well as an egalitarian form of government.

Here is a photo of the Twin Oaks village and some of the (very happy) residents:

What I found most interesting is when Reece is in Twin Oaks and Adder explains to him their socialist philosophy and how it works. At Twin Oaks, there is “zero motivation to work hard, perform well, or to be innovative or creative” (167), yet the commune members all engage in art making, personal growth, creating/maintaining business. The motivation at Twin Oaks is intrinsic, and springs from the concept of that a positive, healthy environment will maintain positive, healthy people that will sustain the environment.

At both Twin Oaks and Acorn, however, they rely on the American capitalist system by selling a company hammocks, tofu, or seeds.

I wonder if the people of these communes generally live under a utopian illusion where their commune is entirely self sustaining, or if they are okay with their minimal participation in the capitalist economy.

Something Reece says, in part, answers my question; “their purpose seems more about honoring the blueprint for a cooperative, nonexploitive living, not taking down the system they have fled” (175). The mission of these communes appears to be to coexist quietly and humbly within the frame of American society, not to detest it and exist separately as many would think of when hearing of a “hippy commune”.

I think the ideas of Thoreau’s self reliance and his emphasis on minimalism provides a sustainable philosophy for intentional communities. If one takes his or herself away from desires of luxury and focuses on basic needs from himself then people can maintain themselves, by themselves, with the company of nature.

While reading Reece’s chapter on Twin Oaks, I can’t help but think that the only way we as people can develop important connections with one another while attempting to produce or contribute in some way to the community, is through small groups run like Twin Oaks. And I think Reece is suggesting that, too. The problem with Acorn is that it relies on the community’s consensus on decision-making rather than relying on those who serve as planner-managers. There isn’t enough accountability for those who’d like to sit around all day smoking cigarettes and not performing the 42 hours of work per week. I really like that Twin Oaks helps subsidize other small groups like it in order to encourage this micro-society based on egalitarian values. However I understand the problem Reece runs into when he tries to imagine the “perfected” society. Once Twin Oaks starts mandating that its sister community, Acorn, adopt the same governing ideals that they possess, there is a totalitarian force creeping up on the group. The best thing we can do as community members is communicate our grievances with one another and try to be considerate and active members for each other and for ourselves. Those guys smoking in Acorn may or may not realize that their laziness damages the community as a whole. If they are asked to work on these issues by council members or else they will be asked to leave, it might make them realize that they are not cut out for dedicated communal living of this sort. Let them start their own community and realize that in order to live sustainably based on egalitarian principles, work must shared by each member of the community.

Something I find very important in Reece’s observations of Acorn is his description of the aesthetics of the community. He describes the “feel of 1960s ‘drop cities’ ” and the dingy “sag” feeling he experiences (Reece 176). There is a general sense of lack of upkeep here. Even simple issues that could be improved in order to make the community look more attractive are ignored. If we look at these communities in the same way that Acorn sees itself (externally capitalist), then membership demand would likely be greater if the desires to live in a happy, clean, and fair community were aspects that they could easily recognize on a visit to the commune. Then the greater demand causes more communities of shared values begin to spring up around them and more people are able to engage in this type of living concept. – Dana

What I found most interesting about the discussion of Twin Oaks was the almost biblical ideals held by this community. They use the example of the commune’s car being dirty because “nobody has any sense of identity to it”. They further this idea by stating that neither the car, their houses, nor anything else they own has meaning because they do not identify themselves with it. When new members come the goal is that they lose the ego they had before it. This resembles the bible in the way that God requires man to give up their physical possessions to strengthen their relationship with him and eventually enter into Heaven.

What I found most interesting about Waren’s ideas was the focus on labor and small groups. He stated that he didn’t believe that people were being properly compensated for their labor hours and eventually created his own way of compensating the workers. He also focused on how smaller groups have the ability to handle conflict because of the need for all members to function well in order to progress.

With a busy week behind me, I decided to go check out the archives over the weekend. Unfortunately, the archivist does not work on the weekends and I could not be granted access to them unless she was in her office. On Monday, I decided to wake up early and try again. The student at the front desk of Milne Library asked her supervisor if he could bring me to the archives but he informed me that only Liz Argentieri could do that. The Special Collections Librarian, as her business card reads, asked me to distinguish which archive I was interested in (Geneseo college or Geneseo town archive). She unlocked the sliding doors behind the “fishbowl,” as Geneseo students call it, into a sunlit room with 4 rows of shelving full of documents (books, magazine, and documents in boxes).

I told her I was taking a class on intentional communities and that I would like to find any documentation about the Genesee Valley Cooperative. I did mention, however, that the organization is fairly new (only four years old to be exact). Argentieri told me my first step should be to search on the Livingston County News website and see what my options look like. From there, she also mentioned just a general search for the group. Argentieri was very helpful, but she told me she did not have much time to talk because a new intern would be arriving soon. I thanked her, and she let me walk around the archive by myself to peruse.

What strikes me as an important observation about this experience is the idea that there is a keeper of the archives. The documents are respected and cared for very well — they document the social, economic, and political history of this little town. If documents go missing, there are inevitable gaps formed in this history. When seen fit, there are displays created using documents and artifacts relating to a particular, focused topic. For instance, Geneseo or Big Tree, has a deep Native American history. Although there seemed to be many books in the archive dealing with this aspect of Geneseo, I stumbled across a blog of a Geneseo Native American studies professor who writes, “It happens all the time. We are curious. We ask questions and, sometimes, despite our best efforts, we cannot find an answer.” Sometimes, more information needs to become available. I hope that all of our projects, not just my own, open doors for other people who want, simply, to know more.

One of the first shelves I looked at was filled with books about the Shakers. Actually, quite a lot of books about one form of intentional community, and I’m especially curious why (I had never heard of a Shaker community in the Geneseo area). A quick Google search led me to a website called “The Freethought Trail” which details a short-lived Shaker community between Rochester and Syracuse called the Sodus Bay Phalanx. I’m not sure of the distance requirement for archives (what’s allowed in there and what belongs to other counties/municipalities) but either way, it was reassuring to see a familiar name.

Although I have not been able to find more documentation for the co-op, I plan on using their Facebook group as a source for more information. I will also be eating there on Wednesday night so I can ask them directly. Before I give up on the archive, I will be making an appointment with Argentieri and trying to focus the project as much as possible. Perhaps Geneseo has a history of cooperative living that I don’t even know about, or maybe legal documents that discuss the concept and the town’s reactions. Either way, there’s much more in that archive than meets the eye and I’m excited to find out where it leads me. – Dana