During these final few days of summer heat — and have no illusions, they will not last — stroll around this campus and gaze upon the trees. The leaves begin to turn vibrant colors of fire and float to the ground. A breeze calmly flows through, conducting a little ballet of colorful flora. Inhale slowly. Simply stare. Appreciate these beauties that allow us to breathe air.
A few trees at Tufts have special importance to my sanity. The great pine towering over the benches of stone at the base of Hillel is a wise conversation partner. Many times I have settled below the powerful limbs in the cool shade with problems. Every time I leave with answers. Visit the grandmother tree who stands proudly as the heart of President's Lawn. Her roots form welcome benches for passersby and ponderers. Above, her trunk has kindly lent itself to numerous romantics who have carved statements meant to last for eternity into her flesh, as she was, and still is, the oldest and most permanent canvas around. These letters and messages have long been obscured by her fresh bark, but remnants are clearly visible. Columns of trees placed throughout the academic quad are her royal guard. They stand as stoic reminders of the once immense and dense forests that covered these lands.
Watch a little longer. Look a little closer. At the bases of all these trees you will find something like a tumor, usually with a circular center and swelling around. These were old, low hanging branches whose lives were cut short. They are on nearly every tree. This is a nuisance — harder to start climbing. For after gazing upon these pillars, perhaps even putting your hand on one, the urge to climb may very well overwhelm you. The view is breathtaking. That old saying, "the reward is in the journey" feels especially poignant climbing up an old, sturdy tree. Its part of our hunter−gatherer roots and dates even further back than that if one believes in evolution and our hairier hominid ancestors. Plainly put, it feels good. Try it; then disagree.
The Tufts University Police Department and administration do not share this enthusiasm. On the Tufts Medford/Somerville Campus, climbing a tree is currently an offense requiring police intervention. You will be ordered down. If you refuse, you will be written a dean's referral. There is a myth currently that it is a probation−worthy offense. I contacted the police department in order to verify this. They could not confirm. Judicial Affairs Officer Veronica Carter, during a brief phone conversation, said she couldn't answer whether or not it was a probationary offense because no such case had ever come through her office. However, she would do some research and get back to me. She stressed student safety and throughout our conversation continued to equate the act of climbing trees to climbing on public building rooftops at night. But it was made it clear that the act of climbing trees was forbidden by Tufts policy for the continued protection of the Tufts student body. After all, a student may fall and break a limb. Protection is undoubtedly a motive, probably not the main one, but a motive nonetheless.
I believe Tufts administrators aren't concerned about this for our health; they care about students climbing their trees because it is a liability. The administration fears that a lawsuit will result from one of these fallen students, claiming negligence on the part of the administration. I call bullocks. This university should have the confidence to do so as well. Dust off your boxing gloves and get back in the ring, Tufts. Don't cower.
Falling out of the tree is no fault of the administration. True: the tree is owned and cared for by Tufts University, making it Tufts property. But it is the fault of the climber, who understood the very evident risk of utilizing that property before beginning the ascent: falling. I assume that all Tufts students, in some way, understand the theory of gravity. So the climbers thinks, "If I slip up there, I will fall." Not, "If I climb, the tree will push me off." Yet Tufts believes a lawsuit will claim that it is the fault of the tree if the climber falls, as if the tree had the intention of harming the student. This is an argument of responsibility. To blame the tree for the fault of the climber is outlandish. In any tree−climbing situation, the human is the instigator. Tufts is not responsible for every decision that its students make. Understanding risk is the job of the individual. The climber possessed the intent and took the risk. The tree is not responsible for the actions of this climber, nor is Tufts. Tufts' policy should be "Climb at your own risk: Don't hurt yourself." The current policy, "Take no risk at all," is ridiculous. To never take a risk is to never learn. Must all common sense and responsibility be legislated? Put it in a waiver if you must along with the other 300 forms we have to sign. But let us climb!
So, Tufts administration: Change the policy. Change the policy so that it states: if an officer sees an "offender" in a tree, let them go about their day and focus on more dangerous crimes. If a student is perilously high, have the officer advise the student to descend a few feet, but to forbid the practice completely? What is the cause of this rancid paranoia? It's akin to Nurse Ratched in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" (1975) and her banishment of joy and laughter from her asylum ward. Climbing a tree is one of the few things I do that a 1950s stereotypical suburban house would consider "good, clean fun." It is a temporary escape into nature here in one of the cradles of civilization's polluted and gray landscape. And damn do I have a dandy time doing it.
It is the job of Tufts University to grow its students socially, academically, and personally. But the administration's ever−present fear of frivolous litigation has made it ordinance−happy and has turned "growing young minds" into "protecting risky assets." In its fervor it has gone too far and in this case become mildly draconian. These are trees. Not weapons or drugs. With all the other harmful and far more dangerous crimes — such as underage binge drinking, driving under the influence, rape and assault — that happen on and around this campus, I know that the police of this university have more important things to do than deal with students climbing trees.
This school claims to espouse the importance of health. Few things are better for the body and soul than scampering up an old oak and enjoying the sunset with the fiery leaves caressing you. In few places can you learn more viscerally about your limits and fears, far more effectively than in any classroom here in the safe and secure bosom of civilization, than in the tender crown of a tree in early autumn. Just be on the lookout for cops as well until the Tufts University administration pulls its head out of the sand. Maybe they'll see the trees then and understand.
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Will Shira is a junior majoring in peace and justice studies.
