Political division and social unrest raise complicated questions for academic institutions. What is their responsibility, if any, to take a stance during divisive, fraught times? It is not an easy question and any answer won’t be easy either. And yet, not having a clear answer isn’t an excuse for administrative missteps that don’t meet the mark. More specifically, I want to offer some thoughts about a recent set of events that highlighted an unfortunate lack of moral clarity from the Franklin & Marshall administration, more specifically, those tasked with running F&M’s social media.
On April 16, the F&M chapter of the conservative organization Young Americans for Freedom will host right-wing influencer Chloe Cole, a self-professed “detransitioner” whose position follows the well-worn pattern of accusing transgender people of pedophilia, sexual deviancy, and mental instability. Her arguments are neither scientific nor rooted in reality, and are emblematic of a systematic bias against trans people. I will not address Cole’s arguments here, nor will I argue that YAF does not have a right to organize events on a campus to which they belong– as much as I vehemently oppose their position. Instead, I would like to discuss the College’s response to this event.
On March 26, YAF posted a flyer for Cole’s lecture, which was soon reposted to the official F&M Instagram story. This was rightly construed by many to be an explicit endorsement from the College, not only of the event, but also of its predictable, hateful, rhetoric. The reposted story was immediately met with anger and disappointment by a significant portion of the student body. On March 31, with this highly questionable decision still fresh in many students’ minds, F&M made an Instagram post celebrating National Transgender Visibility Day. This too, was met with anger from a student body who insightfully questioned why F&M would condone YAF’s deeply transphobic event and just a few days later attempted to celebrate the very community being harmed by YAF’s actions. The College responded to a flurry of well-earned criticism by turning off the comments on their post. In both cases, they made no response to the pushback from their students who had come out to defend vulnerable members of the F&M community.
F&M’s Freedom of Expression policy states that “the institution’s role is not to endorse or criticize ideas, but to provide an environment that allows for diverse opinions and lived experiences, and cultivates a sense of belonging for all.” Critically, the policy goes on to say that F&M will “always embrace human rights and human value.” Their reasoning is sound; academic institutions should encourage nuanced political thought while maintaining free speech (though careful to disallow hate speech). But, they compromise their integrity when they use their “institutional voice” to endorse an event rooted in bias and intolerance.
In the age of modern technology, official social media accounts and the content they publish are widely understood as representative of the values of a university or college. While some might perceive the resharing of YAF’s Instagram post as innocent, its connection to an ideology that characterizes transgender people as predators and pedophiles makes the College appear supportive of that rhetoric. To then, days later, celebrate Trans Visibility Day as if they hadn’t just endorsed hatred of trans people smacks of profound hypocrisy, and effectively alienates not just transgender students across campus, but also a large portion of the student body who believes trans people have a right to exist and simply be who they are.
As an F&M student, it does not seem like too much to ask to want to feel safe in the place that will be my home during four critical years of my adult life. It’s fair to say that many of us have arrived at F&M with an open mind and heart, but when this kind of existentially threatening ideology is tacitly endorsed in our own home, the expectation that we ignore our feelings of vulnerability to focus on our education becomes untenable. James Baldwin once articulated something similar about the particular pressure that he felt as a young black writer: “You talk about making it as a writer by yourself, you had to be able then to turn off all the antenna with which you live because once you turn your back on this society, you may die. You may die. And it’s very hard to sit at a typewriter and concentrate on that if you’re afraid of the world around you.”
I do not believe the actions of F&M and its social media team were malicious. In fact, I would prefer to assume ignorance rather than ill intent. However, it remains true that the perceived endorsement of YAF’s far-right ideology feels like a betrayal of the queer students of this community and their many allies. It has created an environment where every day feels a little more uncaring and a little less safe.
Like cisgender students at F&M, queer students juggle many responsibilities, from managing academic excellence, to representing F&M in athletics, to nurturing fulfilling social lives. Our college should be an institution where students can feel safe doing the necessary work of seeking knowledge, independent thought, and respectful discourse at a time when we need it the most.
President Barbara Altmann once suggested that ambitious young students come to F&M to “…explore the cutting edge of knowledge, setting new standards of academic excellence in an inclusive, supportive and engaged community that values each student’s individuality.” This week, Franklin & Marshall College failed in its efforts to maintain an inclusive and supportive community. So, I am writing this letter because if we do not demand accountability from our leaders when they betray their own values, we risk further eroding confidence in some of the last trustworthy institutions in our country.
Finally, it’s important to note I am submitting this letter anonymously. While I would love to be able to stand up for transgender rights publicly, to give these words a face, I can’t, for the simple reason that I am afraid. I fear for my transgender friends at this college. I fear for my transgender family suffering in states led by legislators who seek political gain at the expense of the most vulnerable people in their communities. I fear for the transgender people all over this country, whose collective anxiety and misery at the state of our nation is palpable. And I fear for myself. I fear that the university’s casual endorsement of hatred for trans people puts people like me at physical risk. So, for now, I remain anonymous.
I’ll close, however, on a more positive note to my fellow students who are as concerned about the bleak cultural moment in which we are living: we are not helpless. We have voices and we can use them. Continue to have conversations, correct institutions when they make mistakes, and elevate them when they act bravely. Our words have power, and they can right these wrongs, but not when we despair.
Sincerely,
A Transgender Student of Franklin & Marshall College