Remove the window bars!

We can’t give up good looks in exchange for physical safety. It simply isn’t worth it.

Tyler Palicia

Here, I spell out my arguments for removing the ugly aluminum bars mounted across the windows in most of the Greek and themed houses on Washington and Lee University’s campus.

The obvious critique is that they insult even our most basic aesthetic sensibilities. And that is the important thing to remember here, not the so called “safety reasons” (no, I’m not going for “edgy sarcasm” — rest assured, this is genuinely how I feel).

You probably feel the same way, and I can prove it: You wouldn’t put bars across the windows in your own house, would you? Not even for the safety of your guests? You monster! Does the picturesque Lee house have bars across its windows? Probably not, I would venture to say.

You should feel insulted. They put up the bars for a reason and it’s not because they have high expectations for you. Apparently, you can get into this school but you can’t be expected not to fall out of your own window. But is it fair that I should suffer as a consequence? We can’t give up good looks in exchange for physical safety. It simply isn’t worth it.

What’s next? Perhaps safety scissors in the art department. And we might as well nerf the edges of the desks in all the classrooms. While we’re at it, maybe there’s even room for a peanut-free table in D-hall; or, how about a rule prohibiting fraternities from branding the backs of their own pledges?

I simply refuse to condone this burgeoning nanny state. At some point, this university must decide whether it considers itself a place for adults or a daycare. “But isn’t that a classic reactionary take?” Of course it is, but I am still nevertheless prepared to die on this hill.

And if someone wanted to kill themself by jumping out a second story window, they’d have better luck staying in their room and waiting for the ceiling to collapse on their head.

But most importantly, the bar obstructs my view of Main Street. It’s nearly impossible to even smoke a cigarette out the window with the ugly thing in my face. So, if you’re talking about any other issue as far as W&L housing is concerned, then you clearly don’t have your priorities in line.

This entire issue isn’t really even about your safety, just insurance purposes. The bar is only there so the school can deflect legal troubles when some aggrieved parent sues because their acid-tripping child falls out their own window. But like I said before, why must we all suffer as third parties?

Politics aside, if you write for an activist publication on campus, like The Vigil or The Spectator, and you aren’t fighting tooth and nail for this cause, then I’ll let the simple truth be known: Your silence is deafening! Vigil writers, must you further comply with the rules of this racist, hierarchical institution? Spectator writers, have you become too soft to critique this rampantly woke university as it furthers the babyfication of its snowflake students?

Now that I’ve concisely laid out my points, I’d like to make a request from the very school I just spent hundreds of words bashing: Please send a maintenance worker to my room by the end of next week to remove the hideous obstruction, or else I’ll have no choice but to take care of it myself — with a hacksaw, if necessary.