Over the years at MIT a friendly tradition of pranks has evolved. Referred to as "hacks," these events seek to amuse the community in harmless ways. Whether devoting a shrine to all-night studying or decorating different buildings in honor of upcoming movies, these hacks help relieve the stress of students while causing little trouble for the school's administration.
Such pranks at Hopkins are an all-but-dead tradition. In the past half-century almost no pranks have taken place. The choices for compiling a list of famous pranks here is limited by what some call a "lack of creativity."
Director of Residential Life Shelly Fickau reports that, unfortunately, most of what she sees at Hopkins is the, "dark side of pranking ... things [that] are just not funny." Instead of good-natured gags like other schools experience, Dean Fickau says that in her eight years of experience most pranks have involved, "theft, vandalism, damage to fire equipment, and slander." Last April Fools' Day, for example, hackers caused panic amongst the freshman class with an e-mail prank.
The Community Standards Policy of Hopkins clearly spells out the consequences of behavior like this. Those consequences may include, but are not limited to, referral to the Director or Assistant Director of Residential Life, referral to the Student Conduct Board, or referral to the Associate Dean of Students for punishment.
Despite a drought of fun pranks, a spark of humor still endures within the University. Jerry Schnydman, Executive Assistant to the President of the University, recalls that at lacrosse games for the past fifteen years, the Pep Band has presented the team with gifts of bananas once victory seems assured. This tradition often baffles other schools' fans while providing a sense of amusement and pride to Hopkins' spectators.
Another common occurrence is the appearance of women's underwear and other festive clothing on the Johns Hopkins statue on Charles Street. "People have put bras on the ladies, and filled the fountain with soap, turning it into a bubble bath," recalls Eli Solomon, former editor of the Daily Jolt web magazine.
There are three major pranks, decades apart, which embody the humorous spirit that Hopkins now lacks. In the 50s a group of fraternity brothers plotted to attack the University of Maryland before a major lacrosse showdown. As is still reported on tours at the University of Maryland, the Hopkins students managed to sneak on campus and borrow a prized statue of the terrapin mascot. Valued as a good-luck charm, the turtle was eventually returned after Hopkins victory.
Last year, the Bloomberg building became the center of prank festivities for a day. One of the lobbies was turned into a three-ring circus including a statue dressed as an elephant. The atmosphere was completed for students and staff with the addition of a flying trapeze overhead.
Perhaps the greatest prank in Hopkins history is what has come to be known simply as "Spoon Day." Almost twenty years ago to the day, a group of freshmen became so disenchanted with the quality of the cafeteria food that they conspired to relieve the cafeteria of all the spoons. Over the course of a week this ambitious group managed to make off with over 1,000 spoons. On the last night the spoons were "planted" in the freshman quad where the kitchen staff soon "harvested" them. One of the chefs declared, "This be 'Spoon Day!'" A legend was born.
Never caught, Don Jacobson ('87), Bryce Quayle ('87), Nathan Rose ('87) and Matt Rosenberg (Wesleyan '87) are the "Spoon Day" masterminds who plotted, organized and successfully carried out this event. All have moved on to greater projects in life: serving as a diplomat, working as a marketing executive, pursuing a future doctorate and writing comedy, respectively.
Rosenberg reports that there were no consequences for their actions. "We had, at its conclusion, not really stolen anything -- just bent a few things," he said. At that time at Hopkins, pranks were still of a good-nature. "No prank I know was ever designed to hurt anybody, and none did," Rosenburg remembers.
Unfortunately, there will be more students emotionally and physically harmed and property damaged if students at Hopkins continue their current patterns. This also means more visits with people like Director Fickau, and fewer famous pranks at Hopkins that share a sentiment of, in her words, "spirited fun." And for now, the spoons remain safe.
