Cambridge. It’s a city that goes by many names: “The Athens of America”, “The City That Never Sleeps”, and, when fully translated to English, it’s loosely “The City of Angels.”
However, one of its many establishments of higher education, Harvard, is hardly heavenly. In this spicy cesspool of scandals and sin[gle-sex social organizations], one group stands out as defenders of life, liberty, and the few parts of the American Dream that aren’t deeply imbedded in racism and sexism: The Superhero Task Force on Inclusion and Belonging.
Our friendly neighborhood dean rests at his desk, tired from walking a mile in the shoes of his valiant friends and vanquished foes. Suddenly, a bright light spills into his room. When he peers out of his window, he sees the STFIB symbol lighting the night sky.
Immediately, he undergoes a transformative experience, becoming the vengeful vigilante known as Captain Community.
Captain Community makes his way to Task Force headquarters, where his exclusion-fighting comrades await him. Empress Endowment is recovering from a long day of fundraising in an ice bath filled with cold, hard cash.
“We’ve got trouble, gang. The Mt. Auburn Menace is recruiting henchmen to join his syndicate of drugs and nepotism,” Empress Endowment says. Earlier that evening, she had spotted a herd of suited sophomores sheepishly making their way to the river. “And more importantly, almost 90% of them are rich, white males.”
On cue, the heroes spring into action. “Your empire of exclusivity must end, Menace,” Captain Community cries.
The Mt. Auburn Menace, clothed in salmon shorts and armed with his daddy’s American Express, simply laughs. “Who will stop me?” he asks. Empress Endowment charges into the fray.
“One more step and I’ll tell my father to cancel his annual alumni fundraising dinner.” Empress Endowment pauses and begins to sweat. “Also, I’ve already notified the Digest protesters of your presence.” Empress Endowment flees the scene.
The Mt. Auburn Menace smirks. “Looks like it’s just you and me, Captain Community.” He pauses dramatically. “You know, you and I aren’t too different. We’re both just trying to provide the best for organizations that historically discriminate against minorities. If you joined me, we could rule the world.”
Captain Community sighs. “That may be true, but you and I have one major difference.”
“And what’s that?” the Mt. Auburn Menace asks. Captain Community beams. “My organization accepts a slightly higher amount of low-income students.”
Going in for the kill, he activates his special power: subcommittee creation. “I’ve just submitted a proposal for the creation of a committee that in 15-24 months may eventually pass legislation that administers penalties to your members,” he proclaims. “It’s over.”
“Curse you, Captain! In two to three years, my organization might see a campus initiative that causes a slight inconvenience to our members!” the Mt. Auburn Menace cries, sulking back to his million-dollar property.
The crowd erupts. “Another day saved thanks to the Superhero Task Force on Inclusion and Belonging!” they cheer.