You would think that multiple stern warnings from the UMass Amherst Police Department would keep pedestrians from being dumb enough to waltz carelessly into the crosswalks.

Yet day after day, accidents happen. In the past year alone, at least 40 million people have died or been injured in the crosswalks on Massachusetts Avenue. That 100 percent true fact was not procured from a reliable source in the UMPD, but instead retrieved from the accurate statistical archives which are located in my imagination.

Regardless, most pedestrians are completely oblivious to the statistics, and probably delete the public safety bulletins lovingly enclosed in their student inboxes.

These e-mails contain important but extremely physically exerting suggestions such as to “look left, look right and then left again” before entering the crosswalk. As far as I can tell, most people like nothing more than to make a beeline across the perilous street without so much as giving their two lazy eyes a painless flick to the side.

Pedestrians here in the Pioneer Valley have an undeserved sense of entitlement. I would like to personally address each soulless robot that crosses the street completely enveloped in his or her own universe.

I want to send a succinct message to every man and woman dressed in funky-colored UMass sweatpants, who are listening to their iPods, and chatting on their cell phones as they step haphazardly into the street.

Before I decide to slam my foot onto the gas pedal and make you into my new hood ornament, I just want you to understand the allowances that we motorists have made specifically for you. We drive humbly, in constant fear that a never-ending parade of brainless and inconsiderate ducklings will file across the street just a few feet in front of our bumpers.

Your right of way is not a substitute for your safety. Just because you’re in the crosswalk does not mean you have a force field around you, protecting your skin from the onslaught of a speeding car.

If my brakes fail, your ribs aren’t protected by the magical aura of the crosswalk. If the road is icy and slippery where you’re crossing, there is a good chance that pompously forfeiting your caution will send you first class to the great crosswalk in the sky.

The suicidal tendencies of the Pioneer Valley street-crosser have recently drawn enormous grants from public safety campaigns. Orange-wearing, stop sign holding, traffic-halting crossing guards now garrison the crosswalks where the greatest amount of people have no regard for their own lives.

For me, it hearkens back to an elementary school memory. I had a crossing guard in my neighborhood, a friendly smiling accompaniment to the important lessons I was learning in kindergarten about traffic safety.

I still carry those lessons with me today, but I can’t seem to figure out why everyone else here has seemingly forgotten them. Hundreds and thousands of lemmings wearing backpacks are throwing themselves into the streets without looking, and it makes the child inside me very sad.

This summer, I was pulled over by a police officer, who insisted that there was a pedestrian approaching the crosswalk. I was baffled, because I didn’t recall seeing anyone closer than 10 feet away from the street. As I graciously accepted the $200 ticket and promised to change my life, I began to realize that I may not have been the proverbial “squeaky wheel” that “needed the grease.”

The police are more than willing to throw the book (usually filled with tickets) at any motorist who may or may have not been completely self-sacrificing for the sake of a careless pedestrian. Why shouldn’t it be the other way around?

There are, after all, two unique sides contributing to this problem. Why don’t you ever see officers handing tickets to jaywalkers? Or even better, why can’t an officer stand at one end of the crosswalk and write ticket after ticket for pedestrians who are “walking to endanger?”

The accidents are still happening. It seems that tightening the noose on drivers or ordering battalions of crossing guards to hit the streets hasn’t been curbing these incidents. Sorry about the pun.

I suppose that the only thing left for people to do is to take responsibility. As a pedestrian, I encourage others to stop and look both ways before darting out in front of a car. In that respect, I can safely assure that I and others around me won’t go tumbling gracefully over someone’s hood.

Here are some words of wisdom you should keep in mind before you approach the street, courtesy of Leslie Nielsen:

“Like a midget at a urinal, you’ll have to stay on your toes.”

You’d do well to listen.

Devon Courtney is a Collegian columnist. He can be reached at [email protected].