The Dirt on Kzoo Confessional

The Dirt on Kzoo Confessional
January 2009
By Mary Corcoran

Earlier in the week, the conversation in one of my classes drifted towards issues of inclusion and exclusion in terms of the real and the realized. The schism between notions we accept and those we enact is exemplified most perfectly in our tolerance and participation not in open dialogue, but on Kzoo Confessional.

Since when do we have to surrender our names and identities in order to be honest? What is it about our culture that identifies and attaches value, freedom, and candid conversation to anonymity?

Words claim their strength from the the conviction of the person speaking them. Speeches are given everyday, opinions delivered from television shows, car windows, and classrooms, and it is the identity tied to the perspective that demands respect and audience.

We listen to our professors--while we don’t always agree with their perspectives or opinions, most of us accept that the the content they deliver to us is legitimate. If we don’t listen to our parents, most of us at least hear them out. We listen to the media, in some way or another, be it by sporting the latest fashion, listening to a new song, or checking out some fad, our age group is particularly susceptible to “buying in.” All of these outlets, these images of authority so responsible for dictating our actions, are tangible. We hear them and we certainly see them.

We spend so much time listening--why is it that the time we spend speaking is a time we prefer to remain anonymous?

Kzoo Confessional, a website on which anyone with a K college email address can post and comment anonymously, has become a part of our arcadian culture. Other liberal arts schools including Oberlin, Amherst, and Middlebury, have launched their own confessional websites, each of which has come under fire by their respective school administrators and newspapers.

On our own campus, the site has been the subject of great debate among students and faculty--last year, in an effort to get Kzoo Confessional shut down, some particularly cruel postings were showcased in the library. The faceless forum, which has deteriorated to little more than an outlet for unbridled gossip and offensiveness, is a phenomenon discussed in some freshmen seminars. Just a few weeks ago, it was brought up during an LAC on hazing.

Kzoo Confessional gives voice to students while simultaneously silencing their identities.

What does it matter that you’re brave enough to name--or rather, judge--the hipsters, the hottest freshmen, and the biggest sluts if you’re not willing to name yourself? Such insights are hurtful, and in many instances, purely hateful. Surely when the website began, it wasn’t intended for trash talking alone.

The site’s terms and conditions are explicitly outlined in a summary post by the administrator, Sam Yoo K’10. He states: “Please try to maintain some semblance of dignity and intelligence when posting. Think about whether or not what you have to say is interesting, useful, and/or kind...Do not pose as someone else.”

“Some semblance” is a term that allows for potentially dangerous freedom of interpretation, but generally, the summary is genuinely good natured advice, simply calling for maturity and asking that the site be utilized as a public forum, or, as Yoo states, “a community based project...trying to echo the Kzoo College community. Let's be accepting, open minded, and kind to one another...Treat the confessional as a public space.”

Keeping this in mind, one recent post caught my attention. It reads: “What the hell constitutes a ‘hipster’? I need to be informed before I hate them.’” Interesting. Now, beside the grammatical error, this post is worthy of some analysis. In a not-so-subtle way, aspects of our K education are sneaking in, insisting on understanding and evaluating a situation before speaking out and taking sides. A potentially insightful individual, his or her thought process has been warped and channelled negatively, raising the question, what if it was used for good?

After spending enough time on the site, a community of identities--however anonymous--emerge. There are the letter people, a healthy population of trolls and owls, the abhorred spammers (the consensus is that there’s more than one...which brings me to Zodiac), and an unclearly explained fixation with some individuals, sports teams, and various cliques. Rumor has it that certain individuals post about themselves, but really, who’s to say? Even if you’ve visited the site just once, you’ll probably remember a few of the most popular discussion points.

Every once in a while, someone will pose as an administrator and deliver the “official” threat to shut down Kzoo Confessional.

Sometimes people will try to stage serious conversations, opening up dialogue on topics like the recent election, best house parties, favorite classes, or the popular, “Give someone a compliment or thank you anonymously...” thread.

Consistently, the site is used for gutless personal attacks. I remember last year thinking that everyone blew their criticism of the site way out of proportion. It wasn’t until speaking with someone personally affected by its ways that I started to see the other side of the argument. One night in June a friend told me about how her entire first quarter of college was defined by her emotional and social response to a cruel and untrue “secret” posted about her. But students are not the only victims; so too are professors.

Logging on to Kzoo Confessional with her own kzoo.edu email address, at least one professor has read the ruthless posts taking shot at both her class and her as an individual. The words made her fearful of returning to the classroom. Neither she, nor anyone else, knew who posted, who the friends and who the foes were. Exploiting the privilege of anonymity to strike fear in others? Definitely not a K value.

A senior student told me she stopped visiting the site, finding it “demoralizing” and the posts largely misogynistic. I like to think that issues of gender and sexuality are discussed fairly openly on this campus--forums are held, information distributed, student groups formed in an effort at representation and peer-to-peer education--but still, Kzoo Confessional has become a place where while both men and women are bashed, women bare the brunt of attacks on physicality. Why won’t the women at this college lose their mustaches? Why are all the girls at this college fat and ugly? First, neither statement is true or funny. Second, what is gained from purging an opinion so hurtful to others?

It saddens and disappoints me that something in our society is dictating that in order to handle controversy we need to first remove ourselves from positions of responsibility. This concern is furthered by those who exploit the forum in exchange for nursing their own wounded egos. Our school’s motto is “Lux Esto,” isn’t it? Be light and trust in yourself and community of peers. Speak your thoughts and harvest a responsible exchange of ideas.

Logging on to Kzoo Confessional, it’s worth thinking about the audience, considering our reasons for speaking and our reasons for hiding.

American poet Randall Jarrell said “The world goes by my cage and never sees me.”

As a community, I hope we can stop hiding beneath anonymity and ideally, begin projecting our most positive images of self in every situation in which we we operate--the plane of reality, classrooms, the caf, and the gym, and the plane of the less tangible, the internet, Kzoo Confessional.

As for now, I’ll continue my daily visits to the site. Bombs away, gentle readers.