Trigger Warning: I Disagree With You
- Naya Dermenjian
- 6 hours ago
- 3 min read

On paper, the Claremont Colleges present a unified commitment to inclusion, openness, and intellectual curiosity–evident in the inspirational posters, informative emails, and classroom dialogues that champion principles of diversity and inclusion. But it seems that this spirit of openness disappears the moment a student expresses a perspective that challenges the prevailing narrative. While we may claim to embrace diversity of thought, the reality is that we are trapped in an echo chamber that suffocates unorthodox opinions and ostracizes those who voice them.
Scripps emphasizes diversity as a cornerstone of “academic, co-curricular life, and residential life.” Across the street, Claremont McKenna wants all members of its community “to feel empowered to speak up, to ask challenging questions, to present new and controversial ideas.” Pitzer similarly frames diversity, equity, and inclusion as foundational to its culture, aiming to cultivate inclusive spaces and fair policies. Yet despite these aspirational messages, there is often a disconnect between the stated values and the day-to-day reality, where true ideological diversity can feel unwelcome and students are reluctant to express views that deviate from the dominant campus consensus.
Students who express controversial or dissenting views face swift and severe backlash. What starts as a difference of opinion quickly devolves into personal attacks, public shaming, and moral condemnation. Social media, in particular, becomes a platform for cancel culture to take hold. Reputations are dismantled overnight by waves of digital outrage. Suddenly, the goal is less about engaging with the argument and more about punishing the individual who dared to voice it.
In this climate, honest dialogue is replaced by fear. Many who privately agree with the dissenting opinion choose to stay silent, wary of the consequences of being associated with an unpopular stance. However, when offered an anonymous outlet, such as a private message board or social media platform, these same students often express strong agreement or even share thoughtful critiques. But the moment their name must be attached to that opinion, the conversation goes quiet. This gap between private belief and public silence reveals a culture not of true openness, but of performative agreement—one in which conformity is not freely chosen, but socially enforced.
In an environment where disagreement can lead to social backlash or reputational harm, many students resort to self-censorship–I know I have. The threat of social isolation, strained friendships, or even academic consequences leads students to stay silent, even when they have legitimate, thoughtful perspectives that would be perfectly mainstream off campus. Over time, this silence reinforces a culture of groupthink, where only certain views are seen as acceptable, and dissenting ideas are quietly (or not so quietly) erased. Ironically, the very spaces designed to challenge assumptions and encourage critical thinking become echo chambers, where students learn not how to debate, but how to conform.
I think one of the most valuable parts about college is the opportunity to be surrounded by people who see the world differently than I do. There is something uniquely powerful about having a heated debate in class with someone and then grabbing dinner with them afterwards, still talking, still thinking. That kind of intellectual friction is where real growth happens. But lately, it feels as though that openness is disappearing. Disagreement is treated like a personal attack, and honest conversations are replaced with fear of saying the wrong thing. I worry about what that means—not just for us as students, but for how we’ll navigate disagreement and solve problems in the real world. To those who feel violated by the existence of opposing viewpoints, I have a message for you: disagreement is not a crisis. You don’t have to like every opinion you hear, but shutting them down only limits your own capacity to think critically and engage meaningfully with the world beyond your echo chamber. Learning to sit with that discomfort might be the most valuable lesson college can offer.
If we truly believe in diversity, then we have to recognize that it extends beyond immutable characteristics and into thought. We champion diversity in our mission statements, programming, and campus culture, but too often overlook the kind that tresspasses on our ideological comfort zones. Real diversity means making space for discomfort and disagreement, not just for consensus and affirmation. A campus that only welcomes certain opinions isn’t inclusive; it’s curated. It’s easy to celebrate openness when everyone agrees. The real test is how we respond when someone doesn’t. College should prepare us to engage with complexity, not retreat from it. If we can’t practice that here, how will we ever do it beyond the borders of Foothill Boulevard and Bonita Avenue?
And if you disagree with me—you’re wrong. Just kidding. Let’s chat. Maybe I’ll buy you coffee. Just don’t Fizz me.