What are you proud of? Is it your sweet summer internship? Your triple major? Your record breaking keg-stand?
Now imagine how you would feel if, instead of a proposal for bringing art enrichment to disenfranchised orca whales, or a masterful set of house rules for Beruit, the boast-worthy thing you created was a person. And that person turned out to be pretty legit. I'm guessing you'd be feeling pretty good about your creation, right? Well, that's how your parents feel about you.
Children are, for many parents, the accomplishment of a lifetime. I'm no exception -- my parents are proud of me. This pride ranges from, "Wow, Jessie sure can dress and feed herself, for the most part," to showing my term papers to our neighbors. Of all the (sometimes trivial) things I've done to impress my parents, one really stood out for them. They delightedly showed the video to everyone we know, proudly pointing me out. Was it my high school graduation speech? Small potatoes compared to this one. The winning goal I scored in the state championships with three seconds left on the clock? I'm not even going to dignify that guess with a response.
No, my most revered accomplishment (and the most viewed video on YouTube, thanks to Mom and Dad) was the Naked Quad Run. After nearly two decades of relentless advocacy on behalf of my "cute butt" (with no hard evidence dating past 1990) my mother can finally show my behind to the world, and she has.
Even the infamous NQR 2007 video, which is simultaneously hysterically funny and ultra-creepy, and in which I am blaringly recognizable, can't keep me away from my most beloved Tufts tradition. I am unabashedly enamored with NQR.
I may not strike you as an exhibitionist (though the volume of my voice and the fact that I write about my dental hygiene in the newspaper might suggest otherwise), but there is nothing I love more than running around wearing nothing but my Converse and an expression of pure, unadulterated joy. It is so liberating, like how I imagine it would feel to run around the library during reading period banging a pot with a wooden spoon and ripping books off the shelves, but afterwards, instead of getting escorted off the premises by armed guards, people just high-five you and hand you some clothes. I would do it all the time if it was socially acceptable, but it's not.
So I am not ashamed to share with you that NQR was the tie-breaker in my decision of which semester to go abroad. After what has been the most stressful semester of my young life, I know I made the right decision: I've got a fever and the only prescription is to hand over my oversized shirt and take a couple (dozen) "freedom laps" with a surreal horde of anonymously naked people yelling incoherent but uplifting things.
If you take anything I've written this semester to heart, let it be this: Run NQR. Just do it. Do it sober, if you can take the cold sans liquid jacket, or if you must, get a little sloppy. Most importantly, do it with an open mind and sharpie all over your naked body. I promise, your only regret will be that you didn't do it sooner, and if you don't want to go it alone (or with people you actually know), I will personally run it with you. Now is not the time for excuses -- get naked and hop to it! Make your parents proud: No matter what happens, your mom still thinks you have a cute butt.
--
