by Sterling Watson

Here at MIT, there is a key distinguisher between upperclassmen and the freshmen and sophomores.  It isn’t gray hairs, tired eyes, or wise expressions—all of which are possible side effects of two years of studying at the Institute.  Instead, it is a bulky, gleaming, gold-to-gray ring on the upperclassman’s right hand.  Ask what it’s called, and you will almost always get the same response: “It’s my Brass Rat.  Have a look.”

The Brass Rat is a somewhat misleading name for the MIT class ring, because it is neither made of brass nor does it depict an actual rat on any of its embossed surfaces.  During my senior year of high school, in the process of my MIT application, I stumbled upon this interesting token of MIT culture on the MIT Admissions blogs, and decided to investigate further on Wikipedia.  I almost immediately wanted a Brass Rat of my own, and for a very silly reason—my peculiar obsession with animal rings.  I imagined myself picking out which ring to wear in the morning—not my snake, rabbit, tiger, turtle, leopard, or frog—but instead, the MIT beaver.  I knew that there must be quite a lot of significance behind this unique ring, something that I would certainly discover if I got into MIT, and chose to attend that fall.

Fast-forward several months, and there I was, hauling two overstuffed suitcases across campus from Kendall Square to my new home in Maseeh Hall.  After getting somewhat settled, checking into orientation in the student center, and crashing on my new plastic mattress for the night, the first day of my Freshman Pre-Orientation Program began.  Our first activity was a photo scavenger hunt, and among many other items that we needed to find was a tunnel map.  One clever member of my team suggested that we go to the orientation check-in and ask where we might find one.  To my surprise, the orientation worker behind the desk replied, “I have one right here,” and quickly removed the ring from his hand to show us. On the inner band of the ring was an unmistakable miniature MIT tunnel map.  I wondered: What other secrets does this ubiquitous class ring hold?

A bit of research would soon deepen my interest in the Brass Rat.  To begin my investigation, I went back to a familiar place—the MIT Admissions Blogs, where I found year upon year of excited posts about Brass Rat Unveiling, Brass Rat Delivery, and Why-My-Brass-Rat-Is-Better-Than-Yours.  One particular blog post by associate director of admissions Matt McGann laid out the ring bezels from Class of 2000 to Class of 2010. [1]  A comparison of designs over the past decade showed several recurring elements: a beaver, the Charles River, and the well-concealed letters “IHTFP” (to be interpreted in various ways depending on your mood).[2]

So why a beaver?  I wondered.  And why is it called a rat, when it really doesn’t look like a rat at all?

After searching through the sprawling network of mit.edu websites, I began to get some answers.  According to the Class of ’93 Brass Rat webpage, the first MIT class ring was produced for the Class of 1930, and was simply called the Standard Technology Ring.  In designing the ring, the Institute Committee (an ancestor of our current Undergraduate Association) had to decide whether the beaver or a classic image of the dome should be portrayed on the ring bezel.[3]  Sixteen years prior, at the annual dinner of the Technology Club of New York, MIT President MacLaurin had officially accepted the beaver as MIT’s mascot.  Lester Gardner of the class of 1897 explained the decision, stating:

We first thought of the kangaroo which, like Tech, goes forward in leaps and bounds. Then we considered the elephant. He is wise, patient, strong, hard working, like all who graduate from Tech, has a good hide. But neither of these were American animals. We turned to Mr. Hornady’s book on the animals of North America and instantly chose the beaver. The beaver not only typifies the Tech (student), but his habits are peculiarly our own. The beaver is noted for his engineering, mechanical skills, and industry. His habits are nocturnal. He does his best work in the dark.[4]

So the beaver, the dorky mascot that I have grown to love, was selected for the Standard Technology ring.  One look at the design of that original ring, and it is easy to see how it got its name.  The beaver on the ring, that symbol of the hardworking MIT student’s experience, looks more like a rat with a stick in its mouth.

[5]

This original design lasted for several decades, before the class of 1975 decided to make the beaver fatter and less rat-like.  In the following years, classes continued to modify their class rings, and incorporating unique elements of class culture into the Brass Rat design became a tradition.  The class of 1999 was the first to add a hacker’s tunnel map (the same one that I observed on my second day at MIT) to the inner band of the ring, a tradition that every RingComm of subsequent years has continued.[6]  While the minor ring design changes of the ’70s and ‘80s and the more radical ones of recent years were often met with criticism and controversy, they were indicators of the changing MIT culture and student body.

Although I’ve only lived on this campus for a number of weeks, I feel that MIT culture has been omnipresent in my life since I arrived, and my understanding of it has been ever-growing.  During orientation and Residence Exploration Week (REX), I started to get a feel for MIT culture and the common experience that every undergraduate shares.  At first, it was all fun, quirky, and inventive—exploring dorm cultures, meeting other freshmen from all around the world, and being generally in awe of the place where we would be studying.  When classes began, I soon became aware of the students’ shared struggle over multiple weekly problem sets, and the need for collaboration.  More than ever, the Brass Rat appeared to be a reward that all of us were striving to earn.

All of this got me thinking about what the Brass Rat that I would eventually wear would look like.  There are experiences that every MIT student shares, but could it possibly be true that the Brass Rat designs over the years showed the evolution of MIT culture through each graduating class?  I already knew that a sophomore committee called RingComm redesigns the Brass Rat every year, attempting to incorporate the unique qualities of each class into the ring’s design.  The RingComm actually forms during freshman year, and consists of members with differing backgrounds and interests to best represent the class overall.[7]

In recent years, the Brass Rat designs created by the RingComm have incorporated new, exciting, and even controversial elements.  For example, the Class of 2002 Brass Rat was the first to substitute a woman on the MIT seal shank for a man, to represent the fact that their class was forty-three percent female.[8]  While some people were upset by this change, on the whole, it was well accepted as a symbol of the improving gender balance on campus.  The Class of 2001 ring stands out for another reason—it is the only Brass Rat to have the beaver facing right, a major modification meant to signify the many changes of the new millennium.  In MIT’s characteristic, creatively nerdy fashion, the Cambridge skyline of the 2011 Brass Rat features the Green Building with windows lit up to spell out “2011” in binary.  One ring that I found especially interesting was the one that our current seniors are wearing, the 2012 Brass Rat—and the reason it caught my attention was not purely because of its design.  The 2012 ring premiere was space-themed, and it featured a video speech by astronaut Timothy J. Creamer MS ’92, who brought the 2012 Brass Rat to the International Space Station with him as part of the payload of space shuttle Endeavor.[9]  In his speech, Creamer said,

As I look out the Space Station’s windows, and see our Moon, I realize that MIT helped me get into orbit and get onto the International Space Station. And I also know that MIT will help us return to the moon as well. Come and join me in our future and lead our world to greater tomorrows.[10]

I don’t think the class of 2015 has been around long enough to create its own distinctive culture to be incorporated into our Brass Rat design, but a few of my classmates have ideas.  In a Facebook conversation on the MIT Class of 2015 page, I found plans to include hurricanes, trolls, neutrinos, and an earthquake—among other things.  I’m excited to see how it will turn out, and who knows?  Maybe I could even make it onto the fiercely competitive RingComm and help design it myself.

The Brass Rat is a real point of pride for MIT students, and considering how much hard work I have put into my studies in the short time that I have been here, I can certainly understand why.  This collective pride in the MIT class ring is so strong that it has affixed itself to some of the most distinctive parts of MIT culture: hacking and school rivalry.  While researching, I found a book published in association with the MIT Museum called Nightwork: a history of hacks and pranks at MIT (under the author Institute Historian T.F. Peterson, IHTFP).  This extensive catalog of famous MIT hacks includes a couple of creative and elaborate hacks that feature our class ring: the welding of an oversized Brass Rat to the finger of the John Harvard statue, and the enormous gold-plated Brass Rat (which took approximately one thousand hours and a fabricated story about solar-powered motorcycle parts to create) that hackers affixed to the cannon they stole from Caltech in 2006.[11]

I still want a Brass Rat to add to my animal ring collection, but my investigations into the history and cultural impact of this unique class ring have given me more reason to admire it—and to envy the upperclassmen who already wear Brass Rats proudly on their hands.  The MIT class ring is so much more than the shiny, cute, and quirky animal rings that I currently wear, because it tells a story of struggle and achievement that exemplifies every student’s four undergraduate years at the Institute.  As a member of the class of 2015, I get to help my class create its own story, one that we represent in our Brass Rat design and in our lasting contributions to MIT culture and tradition.  There is so much significance behind this ring, and you don’t need to research Brass Rats specifically to understand it.  Just spend some time here at the Institute, meet some students, and observe the culture that makes MIT one of a kind.  Each year’s Brass Rat has a different personality, but they are all members of the same species, born from the MIT experience.