Bugs are just Extra Protein: In Defense of 1920 Commons

Let me paint a picture for you. 

Clouds loom menacingly above. My head pounds as I struggle to fight against my low blood sugar. My stomach has shrunk to the size of a penny and my ribcage protrudes painfully as I weave through the many students trudging along Locust Walk. I’m losing hope; I almost succumb to my intense hunger before I catch a glimpse of it. No, before I see… her. 1920 Commons in all of its glory. 

If you’re a reasonable person like me, you see the Commons dining hall for what it truly is: a beacon of hope. A lighthouse, beckoning me across a vast sea of unenlightened Penn students who probably spend $50 a week at WillCaf.

Know this: Commons is always there for you. Whether that be on weekends when everything else is closed and Hill is much too far of a walk to make, or on those days when you need some overhead fluorescent lighting to add to the ambiance of enjoying your meal. Commons keeps the romance alive at Penn.

Several students have attempted to slander her good name on anonymous apps such as Sidechat, where some have posted about seeing the occasional bug in leafy greens served at the dining hall. To those naysayers I pose the question: have you ever considered bugs to be extra protein? 

Insects are the future of food, as the meat industry becomes more unsustainable each year. If anything, we are being prepared to practice sustainability and appreciate our future food sources. Don’t say Commons has never done anything for you: you’re going green while maxing out on protein for your gains. That’s a BOGO deal if I’ve ever seen one.

Fellow Penn students: I urge you to see Commons in all of her raw, unabashed beauty.  Enjoy a small feast there. Indulge in the ice cream. Embrace the occasional bug. Kiss the floor (with tongue). If liking Commons is wrong, then I don’t want to be right.