There is a presence on the University of Massachusetts campus which cannot be ignored. An intimidating, lurking, honking presence. Every morning, they gather in the sky and descend upon the campus pond in droves, like a scene from an Alfred Hitchcock movie.
Of course, I am talking about the campus geese. They are a presence on this campus which is as omnipresent as Chancellor Kumble Subbaswamy himself. But these geese do not share our beloved Chancellor’s endless optimism. In fact, they seem to be a black hole for happiness and positivity. Their constant squawking can be heard from miles away, warning potential pedestrians of their presence.
Every day, students hustle down the sidewalk on their way to the Integrative Learning Center. The constant quacking makes them move a little faster for fear of an unprompted goose attack. The geese may present themselves as nothing more than ornery ornithurae, but some students have suspicions that these foul fowl may be up to more nefarious purposes. When asked his opinion of the campus geese, freshman economics major Richard Wrong said simply, “They smuggle drugs.” Whether or not this claim holds any value cannot be determined, as no one has gotten close enough to the geese to check. It’s been rumored that the ducks serve as their lookouts, sending signals to the feathered felons if an unsuspecting undergrad gets too close to uncovering their grand scheme.
However, some students seem to have a sort of reverence for the waterborne avians. Sophomore Isenberg student Meagan Camp referred to the geese as “the protectors of campus.” But if they’re here to protect us, why do they seem to hate us? Maybe they’re upset because of the massive influx of guys and gals wearing Canada Goose jackets. After all, those fancy coats contain 100 percent real goose down, and that can’t be a pleasant thought for the hundreds of geese settled in the pond.
Whatever their intentions may be, the geese seem to have taken up a permanent residence here at UMass. This then raises the logical question, why don’t they have to pay tuition? The geese live here longer than we students do, braving the dreary New England winter and even taking advantage of the walkway by the Fine Arts Center being closed off, claiming it as their own sort of Goose Island. So, who are these drug-smuggling freeloaders? And why do they get to kick it at UMass year-round, debt free?
Maybe it’s time for the geese to start contributing to the UMass community. You may ask yourself, how? They don’t even have opposable thumbs. It’s not like they could start shelling out spaghetti at Berkshire Dining Commons or get their licenses to drive the buses. My solution is more tactical: Train the geese as an elite task force to truly protect the students of UMass.
The goose task force could be trained by animal science majors interested in working as animal trainers in the future – it would be a great opportunity to learn about working with difficult animals, and imagine being able to put “has trained geese to fight crime” on a resume. You’re practically an instant hire, no matter what job you’re applying to. The geese could be trained to point their apparently aimless rage at threats to students all around campus trying to enjoy life. For example, bikers who think the middle of the sidewalk is the ideal place to ride, or squirrels who are feeling particularly vicious. The geese could step in to protect the innocent students, and thus make life here at UMass a lot simpler.
I am not suggesting that this task force of geese could or should replace the UMass Police Department. In fact, I am of the belief that this force could supplement the work of UMPD. The geese police could respond to more petty crimes and inconveniences, leaving the human police to deal with actual crimes. This way, the geese can feel like they are a part of the UMass community while serving a purpose besides being an intimidating presence in the middle of campus. The students would benefit from their protection, and the geese would have something to do. Everyone wins.
Frida Byrd was attacked by a goose as a child. She can be found arriving to her classes an average of 16 minutes late because she avoids the center of campus and insists on always walking the long way.
