As yet another April rolls around, I have a confession. I, Ratty Scarvis, one of the rats that roams the dorms and lecture halls of this school, am a nepo baby.
The Scarvises have long held soft power across this campus. We are the rats who get first choice of discarded Pit cheese, who unofficially audit the most popular lectures, who can nest in the atrium of Rush Rhees (with only the finest tomes from the stacks to use as nesting material). I recognize that the circumstances of my birth are not something I’ve earned — that it is my rat-sponsibility as someone with this level of privilege to speak up for my brethren.
Because of this, I have infiltrated the Coloring Times office in order to make sure my message can reach the (human) students of this campus: Look out for the little guys.
We rats have just as much right as you to be on this campus. We may not pay tuition, but we are the ones who clean up the mess when you spill your Blue Cactus on Wilson Quad. We are the ones who dust below the folding seating of the Bausch and Lomb lecture halls. We are the last bastion of defense against the wretched Fluffernutter family of the Eastman Quad Squirrel Court.
I know it may be hard to process that your campus is inhabited by sentient rats, but I want to help you understand that students and rats are not so different from each other. We have similar diets (microwave ramen, Hint of Lime Tostitos, Pit mac & cheese, Dougie pizza, Mountain Dew, etc.) and thus can commiserate with you on the quality of campus dining. We have similar exercise regimens (scampering through the tunnels, going to the gym once per sometimes). We have similar social lives (rat festivals are actually quite similar to the parties at ADP. I’d ask you to come see for yourself, but they’re unfortunately invite-only). Judging by the cost of your student housing, I feel as though your administration has similar feelings towards your presence on campus as they do towards the presence of my brethren. What I’m trying to say is — we have more in common with each other than you have with the humans in control of this campus.
At this point in the article, you may be asking yourselves, “What can I do to aid the plight of the rats?”
To help you remember a few ways to help, I have a handy mnemonic: T.A.I.L.
T: Think before you scream
Do you know how hard it is to go through life constantly hearing harmful rat-phobic rhetoric? I don’t have enough fingers on my paws to count the times I’ve heard a student cry “Ew! A Rat!” or “Gross, it touched me!” After the 20th time you are accused of being diseased, you start to believe it yourself. And unlike you students, we can’t go to UCC to talk about our negative self-feelings.
A: Attention to surroundings
Let me put it this way: The second-most deadly human trend of the last few decades has been Doc Martens. The first is smartphones. You humans need to watch where you’re going before you break someone’s spine!
I: Imagine yourself in my paws
When you’re caught up in your next midterm, your upcoming papers, or your next club performance, it’s hard to think of those around you. When you see a rat in the tunnels, help them out. It takes you approximately 30 seconds to cross from Morey to Dewey. It would take me several minutes! Even if you don’t feel comfortable physically carrying a rat to their destination, at least try not to cut in front of them or block their path.
L: Leave crumbs behind
While political theory is important, direct action is sometimes the best way to make a difference. Especially through the winter months, even the most affluent rats can go without meals for days at a time. While it may seem easy to simply throw your crumbs in the trash, it’s just as easy to leave them on the table or brush them onto the floor! With this simple action, you can ensure your scraps do not go to waste.
I’m hopeful that this message will serve to begin to build a lasting friendship between the humans and rats of this fair land. We are stronger together. Paw in paw, hand in hand. No Gods, No Kings, No Provosts.
