Flashback to April 2010: April Open House. For most of the day, overly exuberant students raved about the Bridge Program and the Leonard Carmichael Society in order to hoodwink prospective students like myself into believing that we could feel at home at Tufts by puttering around for an afternoon at an event that is really a total sham.
But on that day, during a no−parents panel, the charade of bulls−−t was at long last dropped. And that's when I first learned about the Naked Quad Run. Just maybe, despite the overwhelming percentage of students of below−average attractiveness at this particular AOH, this school could still be wildly fun.
December 2010. It was finally my turn to participate in one of the most talked about Tufts traditions — it would be an unbridled celebration, a liberation, an opportunity to finally let loose and embrace the very essence of Tuftsiness. However, through an unforeseen succession of events, I ended up missing the infamous Nighttime Quad Reception entirely — a major disappointment to say the least. After wallowing in self−pity for several days, I cheered up and told myself "It's OK, three more years!"
Then, last March, former University President Lawrence Bacow dropped a bomb that shattered my aspirations, canceling NQR on the grounds that the administration could "no longer manage the run." A few hospitalizations and an absurd student arrest and the whole event is canceled — no ifs, ands or nude butts. Now, I'm not one to dump all over LB for his decision. I get it. Everyone is trashed and some students over−indulge. People get all scraped up, and it attracts some sketchy publicity for the school. But after the event, when everyone is reminiscing on the truly unforgettable night of letting loose in the flesh and taking part in an irreplaceable celebration of freedom, it's easy to see that when you set aside the few hospitalizations, NQR isn't about the drinking; it's about embracing the invigorating, innocuous fun of running buck naked during a New England December.
So in essence, Bacow didn't want our new pal Tony to have to watch a student die during his first semester as president because of an absurd event endorsed — albeit reluctantly — by the school. Fair play, Larry. I feel that. Flipping through archives of the Daily and seeing all the feisty responses kind of surprised me. "How is it," I asked myself, "that students, prior to Bacow's cancellation of the event, were not more disillusioned with this event being sanctioned in the first place?" I'm not surprised that students were upset when it was cancelled. I just don't quite understand why they were so shocked.
On the other hand, I do empathize with those who think that including the ban on NQR in the Code of Conduct is over the top. Let me get this straight: if you're naked on the quad on the last day of fall classes, you get suspended for a semester — a little extreme, don't you think? So, what if I'm naked on the quad say … tonight? Catch me if you can, TUPD! As if the administration hadn't crushed our NQR dreams, they had to give us the big middle finger too.
I guess what I'm trying to say is this: NQR is gone, and that sucks. The freshmen and I will never get to run, and that sucks too. Bacow made a decision intended both to preserve the integrity of our fine institution and to protect our new president from a tragedy. OK. So let's view this as an opportunity — and no, I'm not talking about WinterFest, NQR's far−inferior spawn. I'm talking about taking NQR back to the roots on which it was founded and having some unsanctioned, harmless, shameless, possibly naked fun for no reason in particular.
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Chelsea Stevens is a sophomore majoring in psychology. She can be reached at Chelsea.Stevens@tufts.edu.
