Princeton is going up in flames

At least, someone who isn’t affiliated with the University, scouring Yik Yak or recent press coverage, would think this. Whether it is student government, student groups or student life, everyone has been constantly asking themselves: who’s at fault, who’s not, to sign or not to sign the next petition —can we do anything right anymore without taking, or giving, offense?

The answer is a resounding no. However, the problem lies not in the fact that people can be offended, but that everyone is now offended, even offended that those who are truly offended call them out for offending them in the first place.

But this self-victimization stems from a much larger, innate problem —we do not take criticism well, and above all, we cannot fathom criticizing ourselves. Naturally, it’s so much easier to shift the blame onto anyone else but yourself in a desperate, subconscious attempt to exonerate yourself. It is this aversion towards, and ensuing evasion of, criticism that feeds into a fear of criticism, and that, in turn, has contributed to this surge in controversy on campus and precludes any resolution.

Let’s revisit the email President Eisgruber sent out to the University last week, essentially sanctifying the freedom of expression on campus, condemning social media and championing “further constructive engagement.” Fast-forward to last Sunday, when instead of a constructive discussion that acknowledged faults and flaws, they attempted to have the “choir performance at chapel event [sing] systemic marginalization away.” Apart from the handful of audacious students protesting the chapel gathering, many, including The Star Ledger’s Paul Mulshine, have pointed out that the event consisted of politically correct statements interspersed with musical performances (no, not from Urban Congo).

Why didn’t more students protest the event, or at the least, speak up? Why did many students choose to casually criticize the email that was sent out from behind our computer screens? Why did so many of us prefer to scroll absent-mindedly through Yik Yak and observe the debate on social media from the sidelines?

We feared criticism. We fear criticism because we ultimately fear that the issue at hand – the blame – will come back to us. If we set out to criticize school administration and faculty for being passive and politically correct, then we will end up in sharing that blame. We will realize that so many of us —myself included —have been complacent and even politically correct, much like the administration we seek to denounce. And that criticism will lead to a realization of hypocrisy.

This fear has shown its colors in the recent debate over protecting the freedom of expression on campus and regulating it. On one hand, the majority of us remain wary of publicly denouncing “freedom of expression,” compared to a minority who protested that hate speech does not qualify as free speech. We are fully cognizant of the fact that such performative caricatures, as depicted by Urban Congo, are disgusting and undesired. However, at the same time, we are afraid of opening the door to that possibility that “freedom of expression” has limits. We are internalizing fears that one day we might be called out on what we say or do when what we say may be controversial and we try to champion such a freedom.

On the other hand, many of us remain wary of publicly denouncing the regulation of speech and expression on this campus. As undeniably offensive as performances by a group like Urban Congo were, in reality we bear no constitutional right to not being offended, and we realize that we shouldn’t be aiming to sanitize our campus. However, in adopting that opinion, we fear being associated with the very people that other students have so vehemently criticized and singled out.

Likewise, the petition to rescind Big Sean’s offer to perform at Lawnparties, due to his history of sexual assault and misogynistic and demeaning lyrics, demonstrates this fear of criticism. Undeniably, many of us are disconcerted by his history, if not his lyrics. However, we permit that discomfort to be overcome by fear —the fear that even if we criticize USG’s decision to bring Big Sean to campus, we all still plan on attending Lawnparties, and above all, his performance. Even if a cohort of activist students decides to boycott Lawnparties, many of us, if not most of us, will still find ourselves listening to to Big Sean on stage less than a month from now.

If we criticize the choices USG has made with other equally racist, sexist and/or derogatory Lawnparties musical performers and acts that we have paid for, we will realize how much the entire concept and culture of “Lawnparties” is perverted. Yet, to admit that requires us to admit that the very thing that we enjoy, that we anticipate and that we hype is wrong.

We should all take a step back from the controversies on campus and look at and within ourselves first. Emphasizing the importance of introspection and the willingness to embrace criticism may be, in fact, preaching to the choir. I admit —it is not easy to realize just how much we, ourselves, are to blame. But in order to reach a consensus and a solution to these issues, we need to point fingers at ourselves. Regardless of whether you consider yourself the “victim” or the “transgressor” in any of these situations, none of us are beyond reproach.

Sarah Sakha is a freshman from Scottsdale, Ariz. She can be reached at ssakha@princeton.edu.