In the span of a few hours, in the heart of the Midwest, a hate crime manifested itself. Sprinkled across the city of Cedar Falls, monitors glowed and cell phone screens lit up. A seemingly incurable disease spread like wildfire. Someone’s heart broke.

The crime occurred via Yik Yak, a new social media app. In a recent interview with PCWorld, co-founder and CEO Tyler Droll described Yik Yak as an essentially “local, anonymous Twitter… the 100 most recent posts within a 1.5 mile radius.”  

He and fellow co-founder and COO Brooks Buffington hope it will eventually function as a sort of world news source.  

In the meantime, however, good intentions aren’t protecting anyone from the slurs featured on the app’s feed. 

While the founders boast the ability of users to “down-vote” posts and the corporations’ utilization of moderators and filters with no username or identifier, real consequence is near impossible to enforce.  

Upwards of 40 derogatory, racist, homophobic and harassing posts were yakked in the immediate circle of the University of Northern Iowa campus.   

Ironically, October is National Bullying Prevention Month. As aspiring intellectuals, it isn’t right to think a college community would need this aide-mémoire.  

Unfortunately, the voice of a few carried enough hatred to unravel all existent acculturation.

I am sickened to my core and disheartened in almost every way. It causes me to doubt the advancement of one of the most progressive generations to date.  ‘Inappropriate’ does not come close to an accurate portrayal of the perpetrators’ words.  

But hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that and every punch thrown is a handshake wasted.   

We have become so engrossed in witnessing verbal slaughter, we have forgotten the power of our own voices. The silence has grown to a deafening roar if you remain still long enough to hear it.  

In muted shock, we have the misfortune of parodying tolerance. This may have been a quietly executed disposition, but I hope the community response will not persist such soundlessness.  

I will not stay silent on this matter. I write to defend every person so unjustly targeted by this heinous offense.         

Please be reassured you are not confined to the definitions they attempted to force on you. You are so much more than the false stereotypes they endeavored to perpetuate. 

Someone had the audacity to begin a dialogue, hidden behind the badge of privilege and the shield of anonymity. And while I cannot retract their words, while I cannot erase them from memory, I hope, at the very least, I can lessen their impact and counter their feeble messages. You are loved.

There are no excuses for it. Nothing to justify the ignorance and hatred. At minimum, it was cowardly and uncalled for. Let me offer you words of hope and prosperity. This is for all the silent voices. For the fingers poised numbly over their phone screens, staring at words that should never have been created from darkness. 

Let me extend to you what should be a collective belief. Something has to be said and I’m saying it: there is a place for you. There is opportunity to rise above this animosity.      

I am a firm believer that good can come from bad and a positive outpouring can be the perfect catalyst for continued social change.

There will come a day when equality is the standard, when acceptance is based more on the integrity of your character, rather than upon something as vain as the color of your skin, or as petty as the orientation of your sexuality. 

Which is why I wish to convey to everyone, in every language possible, in every dialect conceivable: you are not alone.