Shock swept campus today as Vassar College announces plans to go pigeon-only, no longer admitting human students. The decision came after weeks of debate among Board of Trustees members and faculty. “It was a difficult decision, but a necessary one,” said Chair of the Board Sharon Chang ’84. “The Board has reviewed the data, and the numbers are clear. People are the past, and pigeons are the future,” Chang continued.
The Class of 2029 will be the final human-only class at Vassar, and pigeons will start being admitted as members of the Class of 2030. Over the next few years, the College will slowly phase out humans and only admit pigeons, with the Class of 2034 being the first entirely pigeon class.
“Pigeons are just better than people,” said prospective student Percy Pigeon. “I mean, we take up less space, we can fly, we’re much more adorable and we’re far better at navigation. Frankly, I think it’s about time there is an institution of higher education devoted solely to us and our needs.” Percy, a senior at LaGuardia High School in Manhattan, hopes to get into Vassar as an early decision applicant and double-major in music and political science.
Current Vassar students aren’t quite as thrilled. “I am so, so, so scared of pigeons,” said Zach Flisakowski ’27. “I seriously don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t even care about humans not going here anymore. Like that’s not even an issue for me. I am just so scared of pigeons.” Flisakowski has been undergoing intense pigeon exposure therapy in preparation for the pigeon invasion, and can now be alone in a room with a feather for 30 minutes without panicking.
“I don’t really know how I feel about it,” said Maria Milovanovic ’27. “I mean, pigeons are fine. Some of them are kind of cute. But a whole school full of pigeons? What if I go to a party and it’s all pigeons? I’d feel like such a loser for crashing the roost.” Despite her initial apprehension, Milovanovic hopes to go crazy at a pigeon-human rave next year.
“Oh, I’m ready,” said Haley Brown ’27, wearing a pigeon costume. “When the pigeonpocalypse happens, I’ll be all set. I’ve decided I’m going to try to live as one of them. I will fully assimilate into pigeon society, where I will be crowned queen, as I will be the largest and most formidable pigeon of them all!” When asked what her plan is for when all the pigeons fly to class and she has to walk, Brown growled “shut up, what are you, the pigeon police?” and angrily stomped away.
A physically smaller student body may lead to some structural changes at Vassar. The College will also be able to admit more students, as pigeons don’t mind sleeping three or four to a dorm room. “We’re actually discussing construction plans to convert Jewett into a roost designed specifically for avian students,” said Sparky Hammer ’26, president of the Vassar College Drills, Nails and Other Tools Club. “Dean Alamo wants the VCDNOTC to be VERY involved in the construction process. We may not be birds, but it’s still great to have students’ voices be heard in the plans. We want to make things as comfortable as possible for our new pigeon friends.”
Interviews with students and faculty still hadn’t answered the biggest question of them all: Whose idea was it to have Vassar go pigeon-only? Dean Luis Inoa didn’t know, but he was excited to participate in pigeon pluralism circles. Gordon Common, head of dining, didn’t know, but he grumbled about making a whole new menu catered towards pigeons. Even Chair Chang didn’t know, but she mentioned a very interesting name: President Bradley. Our reporters followed up.
“Oh, yeah, the pigeons,” President Bradley said, looking up from her plate of breadcrumbs. “The pigeons. Yeah, I just think it’s time we diversified, species-wise. I’m just kind of sick of spending all day surrounded by humans. You guys are all so annoying. Pigeons won’t smoke cigarettes outside of the Deece. Pigeons won’t have messenger bags when backpacks would be far more practical. You know what, why are you even asking me all this? Leave me alone!” President Bradley then stormed off, leaving a single feather on her chair.
This interview raised suspicions. Further observation of President Bradley had her pecking at the ground, cooing at John Bradley and preening her hair. Peculiar, un-President-Bradley-like behaviors. Finally, it was spotted: a zipper hiding underneath President Bradley’s bob. Upon tugging on said zipper, President Bradley’s body split in half to reveal seven pigeons operating an incredibly life-like President Bradley robot suit.
Petunia, Penelope, Patricia, Perry, Patrick, Phoebe and Parker Pigeon hatched their scheme six months ago. Frustrated with the absence of pigeons in higher education, they decided to take matters into their own hands. After spending weeks working on their hyper-realistic President Bradley suit (complete with swinging bob and fabulous pantsuit!), they climbed inside and began to puppet. Petunia and Penelope took the legs. Patricia and Perry took the arms. Phoebe took the head. Parker and Patrick ran on hamster wheels in the chest to power the robot. The seven of them worked together like a 14-winged machine.
“Yeah, you got us,” said Phoebe Pigeon while being led away in tiny pigeon-sized handcuffs. “You may have won this battle. But we? We will win the war. We dared to believe that pigeons like us could get a college education, and for that, we were punished. But someday, our flock will soar!”
“My only crime was standing up for the rights of my fellow birds,” said Penelope Pigeon while being shoved into a police car. “Well, that and the kidnapping.”
The real President Bradley has been discovered locked in an abandoned room in the Raymond basement. Aside from several beak marks, she was unharmed. The pigeons allegedly lured her to the basement with the promise of a free trip to Rwanda. “I’m just happy the school is okay,” said Bradley. “Well, I guess I’m more happy that I’m okay. As it stands, however, I’m hoping to ban birds from campus forever. Maybe a big dome or something to keep them out.” It will be a long time before anyone on campus forgets the Great Pigeon Scare of 2025.