So you call yourself an activist? STOP WASHING YOUR SHEETS

By: Ava Carrel

As I walk down the bustling street of comm ave and dodge a near body slam by the flaming red backpack of a rower on a scooter, I think about how much the city of boston has changed from my plethora of rich memories as a local 16 years ago (I lived in basically Rhode Island for 6 months). Me, my bottle of breastmilk, and poopy stinky diaper were regulars at historic spots such as Off the Wall Kidz Park and Boston just doesn't make drinks like they did anymore. Like any major city in America right now Boston is facing issues like gentrification, skyrocketing rent, and homelessness. Everyone’s aware of the rising homeless community in Dorchester and Roxbury but we don’t even acknowledge as Boston University students commit VIOLENT GENOCIDE to the most marginalized community of all: The Bacteria colony in your sheets.

The Bacteria colony’s indigenous lands are located in that fold of your sheets where you hide your vibrator when your roommate walks in too abruptly. They have a rich culture filled with joy, love, and the traditions that hundreds of generations have passed down. That yellowing patch on the corner that you called “fucking nasty” (Tell me, how does it feel to yell slurs with no shame?) was a mural honoring Binary Fission, the asexual reproduction process of bacterial growth. Yup, you just invalidated asexuality and are now cursed with 7 years of bimonthly UTIs. Washing your sheets seizes The Bacteria’s ancestral homelands in what your propaganda calls “weekly wash!” but is really a political power coup. You thought January 6th was bad? Your fabric softener is worse. And bleach? Unethical, inhumane, torture, must i continue? To put it simply, Obama dropped bombs on civilians but you dissolved an entire family with $3.50 and a tide pod. Say it with me now: LAND BACK! 

The displacement of The Bacteria colonies is a dire crisis and there are only so many resources for them to turn to when you ethnically cleanse their cultures and kick them out onto the street. My bed in Sleeper Hall, ninth floor, take a right out of the elevators, has become a shelter to house these refugees. I am 2 months into my freshman year of college and I have taken on the brave and noble responsibility of breaking societal norms and refusing to wash my sheets. Have I faced immense backlash? Yes. My roommate weeps gently to sleep every night as the border of bacteria slowly creeps closer and closer to her side. Have the masses tried to shame and shun me? Yes. Even the so-called “leftist” commies from the “History of Communism” class that I tried to convince to burn their laundry bags abandoned their marxist rhetoric when faced with the apparent dilemma of wash or not wash. Genocide or live up to the “wokeness” you claim to have. 

Of course this new living arrangement isn’t all fun and games. The Bacteria colony needs ample food and sweat to survive and grow. Every night I go to fit-rec and pick a roller hockey boy’s backpack to steal and wear one of those reflective sauna suits as they chase me around the rink for 45 minutes. Once I can feel the water pooling up to my knees in the suit, I brake check roller hockey boy and the student section goes crazy as they slam into the wall! I wring out my pushup bra into a petri dish to give to The Bacteria in solidarity with their efforts for political autonomy. All this working out has got me pretty toned; soon I'll not only be a giving, noble, kind ass person, but I'll have the gyatt to go with it. 

The world saw the sign in your lawn in 2020: “SILENCE IS VIOLENCE”. We saw the black square post too. I know it’s still in your archive, don’t try and hide. So unless you’re ready to be the newest cancelee that we will be holding accountable through death threats, public instagram shaming, and yeast infections: join the revolution and STOP WASHING YOUR SHEETS. 

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