What Confessions Pages Tell Us Our About Community
By Maxine Park
Let’s be honest: save the unusual few, we all love a good secret. And as our culture becomes increasingly media-centric, “secrets” have become almost too easy to find. From confession pages on Instagram and Facebook to Seventeen’s “Traumarama” and the New York Post’s “Page Six”—and, of course, the wildly popular series Gossip Girl—we only confirm our intense, ongoing fascination with business that is anyone’s but our own.
Why are confessions so appealing? They give us inexplicable satisfaction in their frivolity, outrageousness, and intimacy. Though we may not always know the confessor, reading their confession can give us a sense of connection—the human connection we intrinsically seek.
We want that connection now more than ever, and with the anonymity that the internet provides, teens and adults alike have flocked to platforms where they can discover—and share—revelations as thrillingly public as they are painfully intimate. Becoming a confessor also offers relief; with the stress of schoolwork, compounded by the anxiety of our teenage years, these platforms have given high schoolers opportunities to express themselves and seek help for personal problems in ways they are otherwise unable to do.
Freedom of expression comes at a price, however, and these confession platforms have provoked controversy. Anonymity allows individuals the power to post sexist, classist, racist and other harmful statements without fear of retribution. Confession pages can become as detrimental to people’s mental health as they are alleviating. This prompts us to consider: do the benefits of confession pages outweigh the drawbacks? At what point are confessions better kept secret? To what extent are confessors and moderators responsible for how their confessions impact their audience.
When Exeter’s “Corona Confessions” and “Exeter Tea” pages began, I found them to be entertaining escapes from the disturbing reality of COVID-19. I regarded the posts as little more than jokes—most of the confessions were so frivolous or so outrageous that they were clearly intended to be humorous. However, as the posts transformed from confessions of crushes and strange (but harmless) fantasies to racially charged and sexist commentaries, the accounts lost their original appeal.
We all have a right to freedom of speech. As Exonians, however, we also have the responsibility to establish a culture of inclusivity and respect. By giving people a place to release our emotions and “vent,” so to speak, confession boards can be beneficial for our mental health. However, it is neither beneficial nor responsible when we share “confessions” that simply agitate the community and are destructive for others’ mental well-being. The account moderators could certainly have exercised better sense in what they chose to post; the debate over lists ranking preps’ attractiveness, for example, was sexist and degrading. It should have never been posted.
When the administration ordered the accounts to shut down, I understood their decision. It was a reasonable way to eliminate at least some of our community’s anxiety and negativity during this tumultuous time.
I have come to realize, however, that this measure is, at best, a weak defense against Exeter’s fundamental issue: our culture. More specifically, our inability to develop constructive dialogue around topics on which we disagree. Shutting down the accounts does not address our problem; it just makes it easier for us to pretend this problem doesn’t exist.
Anonymity may be dangerous, but it is also illuminating. Namelessness disassociates people from their ideas; it gives people the liberty to express themselves with frightening honesty.
Exeter prides itself on its political correctness. While this fosters a commitment to respect and awareness, it also compels students with dissenting opinions to remain silent. Corona Confessions and Exeter Tea, it seems, have allowed some of these silent perspectives to surface.
These confession accounts may reflect Exeter culture more realistically than we might like to admit. And this is a reality that would be irresponsible for us, as a community, to ignore.
The solution to a few controversial, and even hurtful, confessions is not to shut them down. Instead, we should discuss. Why do some feel hurt by these comments? Why do the “confessors” feel the way they do? How can we discuss these issues in a way that will help us understand each other?
The truth is, we will always encounter ideas and comments we do not agree with. By closing the accounts, we may close down controversy in the short term, but we are also closing down another opportunity to have constructive conversations that better our community.
COVID-19 has left a wave of intense anxiety, confusion and trauma in its wake. It is reasonable for us to feel angry, stressed and isolated, and confession accounts may help relieve some of this. We should express ourselves, but we must remember our responsibility to be conscientious and understanding. We should disagree. But we must not forget to seek ways to connect, not to divide, us.
Now, perhaps more than ever, connection is a precious thing.