Opinion – By Zayden “Sunwolf” Cline
April 20, 2025
Our mascot has been telling us who we are this entire time. Some of you simply weren’t listening.
There has been considerable debate lately about what Poly the Possum represents. School spirit? Community? Resilience? The remarkable ability to survive on discarded cafeteria food? Sure. But I think we need to acknowledge something that has been staring us in the face for years.
His name is Poly. Not Mono. Poly.
For generations, Baitman’s Institute has quietly stood at the forefront of LGBTQ2IA++ inclusion, relationship diversity, gender plurality, and whatever comes after the second plus sign. Poly the Possum is not simply a mascot. Poly is an institutional endorsement of the polycule lifestyle.
I understand this interpretation may make some students uncomfortable. That discomfort is worth examining. Why, exactly, should one person be expected to have only one girlfriend? Why should your girlfriend be expected to have only one boyfriend? Why should that boyfriend not also be your girlfriend? Why are professors excluded from this arrangement? Nobody has adequately answered these questions.
The monogamous relationship structure is so deeply embedded in Western society that most of us never stop to interrogate it. We simply accept that another human being can be designated “my girlfriend,” “my boyfriend,” “my wife,” or “my husband,” as though people were emotional real estate. Possessive pronouns are doing an enormous amount of violence here.
This is where intersectionality becomes important. A heterosexual cisgender man practicing monogamy, for example, occupies a fundamentally different relational position than a bisexual genderfluid demisexual person participating in an ethically non-hierarchical kitchen-table polycule with three nesting partners, two metamours, a situationship, and a professor emeritus. These differences matter, and frankly, I am tired of pretending they don’t.
Last semester, I asked a classmate if his girlfriend would be interested in joining me and several friends for an evening of consensual relational exploration. He said, “Dude, absolutely not.”
Notice the language. “Absolutely.” “No.” There was no curiosity, no dialogue, no attempt to examine the systems informing that response. Just a boundary. We have normalized this.
Some will argue that boundaries are healthy. Of course they are. But we must also acknowledge that boundaries can become borders, and borders have historically been used to exclude people. That is simply a fact. I’m not saying you have to invite everyone into your relationship. I’m asking why you haven’t.
If your answer begins with “because she’s my girlfriend,” I would encourage you to sit with the possessive implications of that statement. Preferably in a circle.
Baitman’s has always been a friendly school. Extremely friendly. Sometimes unusually friendly. There are faculty members who will remember the Spring Equinox Mixer of 2019, although Human Resources has specifically requested that they not. This openness should be celebrated.
Instead, I have noticed a disturbing resurgence of gender essentialism among students who claim to be progressive but suddenly become very traditional when you ask if their spouse is busy Friday. People who proudly put pronouns in their email signatures will turn around and say things like, “Please stop asking my wife that.”
Interesting.
You cannot dismantle heteronormativity Monday through Thursday and then reconstruct it because I invited your husband to an orgy. That is not allyship. That is convenience.
And what about faculty? Professors occupy a uniquely complicated position within the intersectional matrix because authority, age, educational attainment, tenure status, and access to faculty parking all create overlapping structures of privilege. This does not mean professors should be excluded. Quite the opposite. Exclusion helps no one.
Obviously, everything should remain consensual. Consent is the cornerstone of any healthy relationship structure. But consent also requires communication, and communication requires asking, sometimes repeatedly, particularly after circumstances have materially changed. New haircut? Ask again. New semester? Ask again. Mercury retrograde? Use your judgment.
I believe Poly understood this. Look at him. Really look at him. The soft expression. The open arms. The complete absence of visible trousers. This is not a creature constrained by inherited bourgeois relationship structures. This is a possum who loves. Widely.
So the next time somebody tells you their girlfriend, boyfriend, spouse, teaching assistant, ex, roommate, yoga instructor, or tenured anthropology professor is “off limits,” ask yourself why. Who established those limits? Who benefits from them? And why does Poly have seven toothbrushes in his bathroom?
We are Baitsmen. We are inclusive. We are intersectional. We are very, very friendly.
And nobody belongs to anybody.
Especially Professor Hargrove.
He knows what he did.
About the Editor: Zayden “Sunwolf” Cline
Column: Third Eye Open
Zayden “Sunwolf” Cline is a junior majoring in Peace & Planetary Wellness with a minor in Improvised Percussion. He believes the universe speaks in signs, especially when those signs are handmade on recycled paper.
A founding member of the campus Flow Circle and self-certified vibe consultant, Zayden’s writing explores how inner peace, hemp smoothies, and nonverbal consent circles might just save the world. His column, Third Eye Open, is best read barefoot, preferably during Mercury retrograde.
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