“I woke up for my R1A and just thought to myself…do I really need this?” recounted Unit 3 freshman Kyle Freeman, reflecting on his decision to “go lanyardless.”
The iconic lanyard, a symbol of a stratified social system subjecting freshmen to a visual reminder of just how young they are, was universally gifted as a part of the Golden Bear Orientation Crossroads Baptism Ceremony, in which each child was drowned in a mixture of bid day tears and Cal Dining pesto sauce before being given their own lanyard.
“It’s just like…I already have a GroupMe with everyone from my floor, so I’m set in the friends department. Why broadcast that I’ve only been here for a week?” Freeman continued.
For many, the lanyard symbolizes an earlier stage of their Berkeley career, and a sense of naivety that is long-gone.
“I’m totally planning to go lanyardless along with Kyle,” emphasized Logan Smith, Kyle’s roommate. “I’m not the same man I was when I came to this university. I know how to get to VLSB without Google Maps. It’s just part of growing up.”
The freshmen spoke of their lanyards fondly, reflecting that the blue fabric strips had endured many a triumph and tribulation during their first week on campus.
“There was one time where I vomited on the floor after my GBO leader dumped us on Greek Row, and I woke up and my maid hadn’t cleaned it up for me,” relayed Copelande Tylor from Calabassas. “That’s when I realized that like, Unit 3 didn’t have maids. And my lanyard was there to support me through that experience.”
We’re happy that the freshmen have unanimously agreed to ditch their lanyards, symbolizing that they’ve come a long way since the vomiting, directionless shits that they were when they arrived on campus as mere weeks ago.