The concept of “intent versus impact” is not new to those who work in higher education. Boiled down to its main premise, it is the idea that just because one did not intend for a statement, action, or policy to cause harm doesn’t negate the harm experienced by someone else. And though we live in a country where the first amendment is central to our nation’s founding principles, one’s need to exercise their right to say or write whatever they choose is not mutually exclusive from the sometimes negative impact of those words on other members of our community. The unique nature of a campus community rooted in the engaged liberal arts means that difficult, thought-provoking, uncomfortable, controversial, and unconventional topics and perspectives will be shared, whether that takes place in a residence hall lounge, a break room, on a quad, in a lab, on a campus shuttle, around a dinner table, or in a classroom or performance stage. The hope - and in many cases plan - is that these conversations and topics unfold in spaces where community standards for engagement are clearly stated and that individuals are willing to listen to understand rather than listen solely to respond. But it takes intentional work to foster this sort of environment, and it takes active awareness and trust to sustain a community that understands the concept of “intent versus impact.” On its best days, Wake Forest works to honor this concept. Unfortunately, Wake Forest’s best days don’t usually unfold on anonymous social media apps and internet message boards. 

Minimizing, minoritizing, marginalizing, and harming individuals from underrepresented or under-resourced communities is nothing new, not here or in any other society. And the direct and indirect ridiculing, othering, demonizing, or objectifying those different from us - particularly those with less access and privilege - is a constant experience for many in our communities, including on our campus. What makes anonymous statements ripe with racism, sexism, transphobia, islamophobia, antisemitism, and all-encompassing xenophobia all the more troubling in these sites and via these apps, however, is their steady prevalence and relentless harm - there is simply no “break” from the insults and epithets in this corner of our world. And to be clear: these forms of technology serve less nefarious purposes, ones that are tied to getting information about social events or helping connect to others. But let us be honest with ourselves: the debate as to whether or not these tools facilitate harm does little to dull the effects of hate and fear experienced by students, staff, and faculty on our campus.

Unfortunately, the anonymity that is often one of the “calling cards” of these tools makes it difficult to engage in meaningful dialogue, confront those who are using threatening or offensive language, or even answer “innocent” questions about a variety of topics. And even if someone who has caused harm or elicited feelings of inferiority or self-doubt in others could be identified, the old adage of “it wasn’t my intent to offend them” - or the older adage of “the First Amendment protects my right to pretty much say whatever I want” - are usually part of the conversation. Ultimately, it really is up to us as members of this community to take care of one another, and to be aware of the potential harm we can cause our classmates, suitemates, colleagues, and acquaintances, whether or not we engage in this manner anonymously. The perpetuation of violence, discrimination, and prejudice against others is not difficult to see, nor is the impact of intentional and unintentional harm that saddles many on our campus. The question before us, therefore, is a relatively straightforward one: will we continue to pile on others just because we can, or will we choose to recognize our impact on others? 

José Villalba, PhD., LCMHC