If Green Street could talk it would say, “Help me, I’m covered in urine and drunk girls’ tears.”

Walking down Green Street, you’re immediately embraced by a warm hug of horrific smells. If you were to make a stew to try to mimic the smell of Green Street, you’d need stale beer, rotting McDonald’s, human urine and just a hint of vomit. Your basic college smell.

Most likely, students don’t notice this smell. You only get a real good whiff of it on a nice, hot day. Other than that, you really have to focus to notice the smell. But I smell it and I have to say, I don’t mind it.

Almost every student at the University has contributed to this smell in some way. It’s a rite of passage to drunk walk down Green Street at one in the morning. It is also a rite of passage to witness someone else have their go at sullying Green Street. For those that get especially drunk, it’s their rite of passage to leave a mark on the sidewalks of Green Street.

I’ve always been sensitive to smells and a bit neurotic about limiting the smells I don’t like — air fresheners are abundant around my dorm room. Even though Green Street smells as bad as microwaving fish, I don’t wish for it to change. Every college campus has a place that students defile, and, in some small way, make their mark on the University. Green Street is what we defile.

Even Harvard has to have some place the students soil, even though I imagine it to be a very classy version of defilement, much unlike our destruction of Green Street as we stumble home from the bars. Maybe Harvard students don’t put their books back in the right shelf at the library.

Regardless, I take a small sense of pride in the smell of Green Street. When family members have visited me, I usually take them down Green Street. I pay attention to their facial expressions as we walk down the street. If they don’t notice the dirty characteristics all around us, I usually bring it up to them. Admittedly, most of them look disgusted when they look down at sidewalks beneath them and see cement stained with who knows what. If it’s a nice, hot day, their noses crinkle a bit.

Let us keep the smells and stains of Green Street prospering. It should be a celebrated tradition to defile Green Street. If you’re lucky enough to make a stain on Green Street, sign your name next to it. It could be a nice little spin-off of the Hollywood stars. I hope that the generations to come continue to defile Green Street. I want my children and their children’s children to continue this tradition, so we are all connected by the smells and filth of Green Street.

Mary is a freshman in CS. 

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