Here at the University of Virginia, we Hoos hold ourselves to the highest standards of comportment in all aspects of life. When it’s time to study, we work with diligence and integrity. In becoming members and leaders in the vast array of student-led organizations represented on Grounds, we act passionately and wholeheartedly. We govern ourselves, relentlessly committing to self-advancement and conducting ourselves with a conscientiousness which creates around us a tangible community of trust. And when it’s half-past 2 a.m., when bars are closed and we’ve just completed a session of aggressive dumpling consumption, we get naked and go for a brisk jog on the Lawn. The tradition of streaking the Lawn is rooted in the values we uphold and institutionalize on a daily basis: honor, integrity and, above all else, nudity. Thus, the importance of keeping this noble practice alive in the face of adversity (adversity which takes the form of walls that sheath the Rotunda and all its glory in this cold season of reconstruction) is paramount — for Honor, for institutionally recognized indecency and for the Hoos. The options for alternative, sans-Rotunda methods of streaking are numerous. The following is a comprehensive and detailed account of how we can all contribute to the cause. To begin, a major obstacle presented by the Rotunda’s isolation is our inability to properly bid goodnight to TJ. What to do in the midst of this difficult breakup with our closest confidant, the overseer of all our academic and disrobed endeavors? At the end of your uphill run, continue on toward the Special Collections library, where you can properly pay homage to the man who made all this au naturel activity possible. Sure, it’s a bit of a detour. Sure, late-night studiers in Clemons may question your life choices. But these are small prices to pay for the preservation of our American right to bare…everything. For the truly committed Hoos out there, hopping the fence and executing streaking protocol on the good ol’ Rotunda steps — just the way Mr. Jefferson intended — is a viable option. Aside from a moderately high risk of personal injury and a relatively guaranteed possibility of legal repercussions, there are very few detriments to this approach. You will be revered and adored by all future classes as the one who risked everything so we could continue to bare it all for the Hoos. Which is, like, a really practical alternative to a college degree and a clean criminal record, right? Another possibility would be to consider alternative venues for your ultimate stride of pride. For instance, I hear Scott Stadium is unoccupied during most small hours of the morning. Mad Bowl also provides potential streakers with ample audience members to revel in the glory of your innovation and audacity to trailblaze for the future — something tells me the occupants of the houses along Mad Bowl’s periphery wouldn’t necessarily object to this variety of late night entertainment. Other options for alternative venues may include Nameless Field (which is just begging to graduate from the ranks of the Bid Day srat-pede), Carr’s Hill, Lambeth Field, various dorm quads and basically any quasi-expansive runway of earth which could plausibly be struck. (Note: still waiting on a definitive answer as to whether or not “struck” is even vaguely close to the past-tense form of the verb “streak” — it's not looking good.) Whichever route you take in your pioneering voyage — be it one I've laid out here or a product of your own creative capacity — take pride in the knowledge that your unfaltering spirit is ushering in a new era of birthday suit parading. Taking into consideration the circumstances and what’s at stake (i.e. our natural right to keep it all natural), the need for action is clear. I encourage any and all dedicated parties to go forth, take a deep breath and take it all off. Victoria’s column runs biweekly Tuesdays. She can be reached at email@example.com.