If Stevens ever hosted a campus-wide Thanksgiving dinner, it would start normally — tables set up in Canavan Arena, fairy lights, and a suspiciously fancy carving knife we definitely did not have the budget for. But the second the doors opened, every major would turn a simple holiday meal into an over-engineered, interdisciplinary spectacle none of us asked for… yet all of us would absolutely attend.
Mechanical Engineers arrive early to install a turkey-rotating device made of 311 scrap metal. It works perfectly until guests show up, then it immediately spins at 500 RPM. They call this “character.”
Electrical & Computer Engineers bring mashed potatoes warmed by a handmade circuit that causes the arena lights to flicker every time someone takes a scoop.
Computer Science students show up with a store-bought pie because they spent all night debugging. They mention time complexity while cutting it. No one follows.
Cybersecurity hacks the Spotify playlist and adds two-factor authentication to the gravy boat “for safety.”
Software Engineers bring a casserole with version history and a README no one reads.
Civil Engineers build a gingerbread truss-tower that collapses due to “unforeseen load conditions,” otherwise known as someone breathing near it.
Environmental Engineers shame everyone using plastic forks before passing out biodegradable ones that snap instantly.
Chemical Engineers bring cranberry sauce and a 10-minute lecture on viscosity. Regrets are felt.
Chemical Biology takes micro-samples of every sauce to “measure sugar gradients.” It is concerning.
Biomedical Engineers bring a chart about the biomechanics of chewing. Again, no one asked.
Physics argues about the thermodynamics of turkey cooling until everyone leaves the table.
Math brings Platonic solid dinner rolls and insists the turkey be carved in radians.
Data Science generates a live buffet heat map to stop the lines from clogging.
Quantitative Finance brings a literal pie chart and tries to short the mashed potatoes.
Music & Technology brings the speaker, equalizes the room acoustics, and turns dinner into a concert.
Visual Arts & Technology brings cupcakes so artistic that no one touches them.
Humanities brings ethically sourced vegan stuffing and sparks a debate about whether Thanksgiving is a social construct.
ISE & Systems Engineering brings no food but reorganizes the buffet, optimizes table flow, and creates a Gantt chart for dishwashing. Dinner ends 19 minutes early. We call this “value-add.”
Business & Technology circulates the room while networking and tries to connect Atilla with a consulting recruiter.
Special Guests: Atilla & Tillie
Atilla the Duck arrives fashionably late, quacking like a celebrity making an entrance.
Tillie spends the night collecting turkey scraps and ultimately consuming all leftovers when no one volunteers to clean.
By the end of the night, the carving machine is still spinning, the dessert tower has become a structural failure case study, and Tillie makes Atilla forget to waddle around like he owns the place because she has now taken over. And somehow, amidst all the chaos, the room feels warm, familiar, and very much like Stevens.
If this university ever hosted a Thanksgiving dinner, one thing is certain: We’d absolutely overengineer it — and somehow still make it feel like home.
