Diff'rent Strokes
At first glance, Pforzheimer’s Meat Locker doesn’t seem like a mecca for Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The walls are laden with cutouts from 30-pack cases of Pabst, Rolling Rock and Bud Light. On the opposite side of the room, facing the shrine of libation, beckons a large poster of Britney Spears. The floor is cluttered with the remainders of a party held the previous weekend. Despite all appearances, however, the territorial tensions between Israel and Palestine are alive and well in Pfoho’s Wolbach basement.
“Everything Dave does is colored by pro-Israel sentiment. He drinks beer out of HSI [Harvard Students for Israel] beer mugs,” Mike B. Jobbins ’04, treasurer of the Palestinian Solidarity Committee, says, referring to roommate and HSI President David B. Adelman ’04.
Even at Harvard, arguably the world’s most meticulously-executed experiment in engineered diversity, like-minded students have a tendency to stick together. But for those like Jobbins and Adelman who defy the trend when it comes to living situations, daily life takes on a complex ideological dynamic. “We give each other a lot of shit,” Jobbins, who is not Palestinian himself, says. “We call [Adelman] ‘Dreidelman.’” “That or ‘The Jewish One,’” adds Adelman. “We call Mike ‘Yasir Arafat.’”
During FM’s visit, roommate Lionel F. Rivera ’04 makes three unsuccessful attempts to smuggle Jobbins’ donuts out the door, “strapped like a bomb,” as he puts it, to his chest. Jobbins has a pile of boxes in his room that his roommates affectionately call “the compound,” a reference to Palestinian leader Arafat’s compound, recently destroyed by the Israeli government. “[The Israeli-Palestinian conflict] is serious shit,” Jobbins says, “but we’re lighthearted about it. We’re never seriously angry with each other.”
The two didn’t realize the extent of their ideological differences until after blocking together. Their friendship had been cultivated during their first year here, when they would consistently run into each other at parties. Watching the two gesture animatedly and spontaneously explode into laughter, one could easily assume that they have a lot in common.
For Amy E. Keel ’04 and Mary C. Cardinale ’02-’03, the destroyers of the Tercentenary Theatre snow phallus, the decision to room together was not their own. Keel, a self-described “radical liberal feminist” and adamant atheist, entered Eliot House as a floater. This year, she was paired with Cardinale, a devout Catholic, who had taken time off and needed a roommate. Together, they enjoy a sizeable suite with two singles and a common room—ample space for two people—and a healthy amount of political engagement. Despite their differences, Cardinale, who is also an editor of the conservative Harvard Salient and an active participant in Harvard Right to Life’s infamous ‘Little Natalie’ campaign, likes to perceive her pairing with Keel as divine intervention.
“This is proof of the existence of God,” says Cardinale, solemnly folding her hands. “I prayed that I would get the roommate I needed. I didn’t want an obnoxious person. And then there’s Amy and she’s totally cool—even though we disagree,” Cardinale says.
Keel, who signs her e-mails as “Diamonde [amy] Elise Keel, ‘Self Appointed Phallus Breaker,’” adds that she and Cardinale have similar personalities and senses of humor, and share a love for period dramas. “We hang out a lot—almost everyday,” Keel says. They point to a wall above their fireplace mantle, which features a collection of sacred Catholic images juxtaposed with an image of pop singer Madonna in a leather dominatrix ensemble, from the cover of her “Justify My Love” video. The wall embodies the essence of their relationship—one in which personal connections and similarities enable political differences to coexist.
Both admit that living with each other has been a learning process. At one point, Keel remembers, Cardinale attended an anti-abortion rally. “She came back and was like, ‘You wouldn’t have liked it, there were a lot of militant feminists with shaved heads there,’” Keel recalls. “Well, I’m a feminist and I’m very militant. I’ve had my head shaved before. I’m sure [those feminists] would be cool if they were someone’s roommate.”
Like Jobbins and Adelman, it was friendship, and not ideology, that led former Salient Editor and Social Chair Bolek Z. Kabala ’03 into rooming with eight self-proclaimed liberals. “It appears as though many of us are liberal, and one of us is conservative,” says Harry G. Kimball ’03-’04 sardonically. “I’m not gonna say his name, but he’s a real dashing fellow. It has been intimated to me that Bolek is a conservative and I’m a liberal.”
“I think he got the idea from a Salient article I wrote that said that conservatives are better in bed,” says Kabala.
“Though Bolek is not good in bed,” clarifies John E. Raskin ’03.
Says Kimball, “We have used 500 Salients to start fires in our fireplace.”
Amidst the loud banter in the room, Kabala relates the nature of their relationship with an anecdote. “My favorite war story. Chris Matthews went up to Reagan and said, ‘Mr. President, this is where we plot against you,’ and Reagan said, ‘Okay, but after six, we’re friends.’ These guys may have been at a sit-in while I was dropping Salients off at Massachusetts Hall, but after six, we’re friends.”
An American flag hangs proudly in their large, well-furnished Cabot suite. The Beatles’ White Album provides a background as these brightly-dressed individuals extol the virtues of coexisting despite their differences. “It’s no fun talking to someone who is a mirror of yourself,” Kimball says.
The conversation turns to the framed photo collage Kabala made for his room, a trinity of President George W. Bush, Vice President Dick Cheney and Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld. Kimball argues that Secretary of State Colin Powell would be more a suitable choice for the triumvirate than Rumsfeld.
“I like Rumsfeld more,” says Kabala matter-of-factly.
For Jessica L. Diaz ’05, vice president of the Harvard College Democrats, living with Republicans provides little challenge. “You know what to talk about and what not to talk about,” Diaz says, grateful that her roommates, with whom she has lived since her first year here, don’t mind hearing her “liberal ranting” through her bedroom wall. For this rooming group, politics rarely factor into relationships. “I wonder if a certain issue escalated, if there would be tension...no, probably not,” says Diaz. “It’s nice to know that I’m living in the real world where there’s a whole spectrum of viewpoints,” she adds.
Despite the attempts of all of these rooming groups to leave politics at the door, ideology still manages to enter into the equation, often leading to hours of debate. For Adelman and Jobbins, this means loud and obnoxious dining hall conversations that make those around them “mad awkward.”
However, according to Jobbins, it all boils down quite simply. “One side just needs to give up a little more for peace. We all know who that is.”
“Jobbins is just bitter that he’s not pro-Israel,” Adelman retorts. “He’s been bitter his whole life.”
“You’re just bitter because you have to deal with the devil,” says Jobbins, and the two grin.
Cardinale and Keel face their political differences head-on, often erupting into fiery, drawn-out arguments over issues ranging from abortion to the existence of God. “To believe that there’s no God takes just as much faith as believing there is a God,” Cardinale says. “Living with [Cardinale],” says Keel, “made me change from an agnostic to an atheist.”
“Her soul is crying out for God,” says Cardinale, calmly. “Do you hear that, God?” She lifts her hands imploringly. “If I had to bet my life on [the existence of God],” replies Keel, “I would bet no.”
“You are betting your life on it,” Cardinale says forcefully.
“Ooh, my eternal life!” mocks Keel, clearly unperturbed. “We’re all going to be rotting in the ground anyway.”
Such arguments are routine for them, but never impede upon their underlying friendship. “We may sit and yell at each other for three hours about an issue, but we’re never mad afterward,” Keel says.
When they’re all together, Kabala, Kimball and their roommates say they try to avoid getting into heated discussions, though awkward moments intrude. At one point, guest Helen Dimos ’03-’04 remarks that, throughout the course of their discussion with FM, the roommates have been “provoking animosity” towards each other, particularly in picking on Kabala.
An argument ensues. Evan Z. Macosko ’03 says he is concerned that the political discussions in their room have a tendency to quickly “devolve” to joking. The discussion continues, but some of the roommates elect to leave the room.
The group eventually establishes that the power dynamic within a conversation is important and that humor is a way for them to collectively avoid becoming too polarized in a discussion. “If people are coming from any ideological distance whatsoever, in order to have any serious political conversation, you need to move slowly and not have so many voices at once,” says Ezekiel W. Reich ’03. “Therefore, a real conversation about Iraq couldn’t happen at our dinner table with all of us at once.”
Overall, all four of these rooming groups sustain themselves and flourish by not allowing their ideological differences to undermine their personal bonds. They agree that living with someone with different allegiances can foster dialogue and learning that might not occur otherwise. Keel says that, though she still does not agree with much of what Cardinale believes, she can now “really see where conservatives are coming from.”
Cardinale says that Keel has taught her to not be afraid of taking a stand and talking about uncomfortable issues. “These are issues that you have to take a stand on, not be like, ‘Oh, they don’t affect me,’” Cardinale says.
For roommates in the group who are less involved with these particular causes, extreme political bents don’t factor in as much. According to Rivera, living with Adelman and Jobbins and hearing so many conversations about Israel and Palestine makes the rest of the blocking group “tired” of the topic. “We would probably have stronger opinions if we didn’t have to listen to them all the time,” Rivera chuckles.
Regardless, in the Meat Locker, it’s all love. “I love Mike Jobbins,” Adelman says.
“I love Dave Adelman,” Jobbins replies. Adds roommate Shi Wen Li ’04, “They love each other on a regular basis.”