Don’t Shoot the Mediator
Harley Woods | April 21, 2022
Assumptions and generalizations are the foundation of prejudice.
For the entire academic year, I have made myself available to the student body as a peer-advocate and a voice of reason. From orientation week to this very day, I ask the questions that students find themselves unable to ask and offer positivity where it is scarce.
Despite the year of positivity and helpfulness, the moment students are provided with an opportunity to observe an opinion that isn’t their own, they turn.
This campus has a problem; loud voices tear down individuals who dare to differ from the most agreed upon opinions.
It is all too easy to ignore this problem when not in the hot seat. The pressure of conformity forces its will upon the minds of students. When a thought is undeniably different from the majority, the pressure cooker pops and a mess is left in its wake.
Who is to clean it up? I have often tried.
I have thrust myself into the line of fire to prevent others from suffering the burns of these brutal flames. When it is my turn to take the heat, I look around and see no defenders — no firefighters to pull me out. People who have otherwise consistently agreed with me and thanked me for being a kind and diplomatic presence at Warren Wilson College suddenly decide that I am the enemy.
Am I still only a stranger? Is that why it’s so easy to disparage me?
Students here — and people of my generation all over the world — have an ugly habit of subtracting empathy from their interactions and putting on a performance. We call it virtue signaling. I consider Warren Wilson College to be a hotspot for performative activism and virtue signaling. It’s so easy to dislike someone when it’s popular to.
My pain and my disappointment do not stem from being the subject of any negativity. Where my qualms lie is with the notion that no one — no matter how helpful — is not exempt from harm.
Part of the problem is privilege; everyone has some amount of privilege. This becomes a problem when it is only acknowledged when socially beneficial to the individual with said privilege. Some students weaponize their marginality to have their way and simultaneously shame others for doing the same. An interesting dynamic on campus that allows this to happen is our isolation from the larger world.
At Warren Wilson College, marginalized students are the majority. The Warren Wilson app creates a small space where students only interact with a small portion of other students, building a structure that some refer to as an “echo chamber.”
Only a handful of voices are being heard again and again.
A college that claims to be a safe space has learned to navigate its social interactions like a game of TRON. Crossing anyone’s path — even one’s own past actions — can cause an implosion and an outrage.
We need to do better. We need to recognize when our voice is not needed. We need to approach other people as people, not as opponents. Students, staff and faculty alike are responsible for this needed change.
I see faces who never speak to me in person referring to me in egregious manners online. This is not how a community functions. Communities appreciate and respect their neighbors.
At the end of the day, the most damage being done comes from those who will not have a conversation with one another. Not everyone knows the way in which they are hurting or disrespecting others. By having conversations, we provide space for more knowledge and therefore more compassion for others.
I have tried to say this before: not all who claim to love their community are showing it love. How a person communicates matters as much, if not more, than what they are trying to communicate.
Don’t shoot the mediator.