What a whirlwind. I am now back in California after a sudden event requiring me to essentially run away from Echowood. I felt dropped like a bag of rocks, really. I did not feel as though I had been appreciated or respected by, well, anyone there. I spent four months planting and maintaining a garden, but had to leave it. I began a mosaic project and had to leave it. I set up a screen-printing area (some materials were already there), and had to leave it.
My experience at Echowood leads me to think about “intentional communities” in general. How can they work? What keeps them from working? What was up with Echowood?
I believe that Echowood was intended as an experiment and, in that, was always treated as temporary— whether or not those who were there realized it. It is true that I only saw a sliver of the Echowood lifespan, but the sliver I saw should have been more developed at its stage.
Lesson #1: If you are starting a commune, you are starting a business.
That is just a fact, unless everyone living at the commune has a paying job outside of the property or is independently wealthy. Otherwise, the whole point of a commune is an alternative economy. First of all, a business plan must be formed. Second, a system of incorporation of members into the business is needed. People will not live in a place for an extended period of time (like, more than a year) if they do not have an independent source of income and a financial say and stake in what is going on. No one wishes to be in a suspended state of juvenility that occurs otherwise.
Even in a commune or intentional community, everyone needs their own independent abilities and space. For example, if you want to go out and buy a bottle of your favorite shampoo or the crackers you love to eat, you should have the currency and transportation in order to do so. The way things swung at Echowood, most people staying there did not have that ability.
At Echowood, one person was independently wealthy and funding the operation, and she did not want anyone to have an outside job. This caused problems. It would have been fine if the place ran like a business and everyone working in it had financial stake (i.e., splitting profits).
Lesson #2: Create boundaries that everyone agrees upon.
In theory, not delimiting responsibilities, but allowing everyone to do whatever they think they should do sounds good. But in fact, it is a flawed expectation. In practice, it takes the form of passive-aggression. People are still going to think things, like, “Am I working enough?” and “Who’s going to make dinner for everyone tonight, because I really f*ing don’t want to.” But, since the rule is that there are no delimitations of responsibilities, I personally felt unable to raise my questions and concerns.
Simple agreements like expected number of hours of work, a sign-up sheet of who will cook dinner and when, an agreement of who will do dishes (I have lived in places where if you cook, you don’t have to do dishes, for example). These agreements don’t have to be set in stone, but at least they give people a good idea of what they should be doing. Then, after completing duties that benefit everyone, you can relax in the knowledge that your personal time has begun.
I, fortunately, was able to make some money at Echowood through freelance writing online. I suppose it was ‘allowed’ since I did not have to leave the farm to do it. If I did not have that, I would have been in a very difficult place. However, I had no personal space with internet access, so I occupied the common space while doing my personal work. For whatever reason, I felt uncomfortable doing so. I often worried that when I was working for myself, I should have been working for the commune. I also worried that others thought I should not be working for myself, but doing things for the commune.
Lesson #3: Arrange a somewhat-formalized process of group decision-making.
A commune should be a team. Yes, there should be probationary periods for new-comers, but that period should be firm whether it’s two weeks or six months. After the probationary period, a new-comer should then be a fellow decision-maker, able to take part in even simple things, like what groceries should be purchased for communal consumption.
It was a fuzzy, fuzzy thing at Echowood because here you are: you are working at the property; you are not supposed to have an outside job; you are now broke; you have no reliable transportation of your own; you have no say in what food you eat and little say in how that food is prepared (even if you yourself are preparing it).
When I returned to Echowood after what I thought was the two-week probationary period, I asked if we could all work together to create a grocery budget and divide it up so that, even though the food would still be consumed communally, each of the four people then living there could have some choice in what was purchased. I had absolutely no idea that it would be an insulting proposition to the Echowood funder. A simple, “no” would have sufficed. I mean, of course, even though I was working on the property and felt part of the team, it was simply not my money.
However, this issue ended up exploding when I attempted to put apple cider vinegar in cole-slaw that I was making (an event that seems so ridiculous when I write it now). I was told that I cannot put apple cider vinegar into the cole-slaw because “that’s not how we do it here.” I asked if I could make a small portion for myself with apple cider vinegar in it, and was granted permission. Somehow, the grocery proposition I had made several days earlier came up. I think I mentioned that we should talk about it. The funder then made it abundantly clear that I was not part of the team, that I would never be part of the team and that I was only there because I was dating another Echowoodian. I don’t think I have to tell you how that made me feel.
All of this could have been avoided with clear responsibilities, boundaries and decision-making.
Echowood was not a commune. It was a dictatorship. How well you could get along with and kiss the ass of the one with the most power determined how successful you could be there. But, hey, their leader says their not a cult.
