I remember packing for Emerson this time last year, still riding the wave of excitement from my acceptance letter. Now, I pack with a pit in my stomach, preparing to face a place that bears little resemblance to the promises I pocketed on my campus tour. Acknowledging this publicly is not a decision I take lightly, but I feel compelled to reflect on how naively optimistic I was.
Emerson College was heralded as a place where students can gather freely and express themselves fearlessly. Growing up in a Jewish family, I learned that using your voice and standing against oppression is not just an ideal, but an obligation. It’s from this deeply held conviction that I have advocated for the Palestinian people, opposed the ongoing genocide, and view Emerson College’s recent policy changes with profound concern.
Last semester, our solidarity encampment embodied these ideals. Students, staff, and community members came together to amplify our voices and demand justice. We held a Passover Seder together and deepened our commitment to unity.
Around 2 a.m. on April 25, our peaceful demonstration was violently assaulted on the pretense of “public safety.” That night, students suffered broken bones, concussions, and neck injuries while Emerson locked us out of our buildings. The Boston Police Department, with riot gear and wooden batons, trapped hundreds of unarmed students in a kettle, failing to communicate an ordinance to anyone standing in the back. After arresting 118 protesters, a livestream captured police officers laughing, saying, “we won the game.”
I don’t know if I’ve fully processed the events of that night. What I do know is that the community we built in that alleyway embodied all the things I loved about Emerson.
In the ten hours I spent at the precinct, 43 Palestinians were murdered by Israeli bombs, alongside a Belgian humanitarian aid worker and his seven year old son.
From where I stand, Emerson does not genuinely care about all of its Jewish students, and it certainly has not protected its Black and Brown community. The college eagerly expands partnerships with organizations like Hillel and the Anti-Defamation League to promote their conflation of antisemitism with any criticism of the state of Israel. For Muslim students, the administration only promises that “similar partnerships will be developed,” treating Islamophobia as an afterthought, with no clear course of action.
The college’s decision to lay off Anna Feder, the advisor for Jews Against Zionism, further reflects a direct attack on the role of our professors and staff mentors in fostering open, critical dialogue. This is disheartening as a student and a serious threat to the integrity of Emerson as an academic institution.
It is disturbing to witness how individuals within our administration recoil at the very notion of a protest, labeling words like “intifada”(uprising) as threats against Jewish people. It’s a tactic that not only undermines the right to protest but also insults the legacy of Jewish resistance against Nazi occupation. Condemning the Palestinian revolution as inherently anti-semitic avoids the uncomfortable parallels of the current Israeli occupation. It also requires that we perpetuate a narrative that paints our Jewish community as passive victims during the Holocaust, demeaning the rich and brave history of resistance movements such as the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, where Jews courageously fought against their oppressors—an intifada in its own right. By framing the student movement as unsafe or inherently anti-semitic, the administration risks diminishing the deeper historical significance of revolutions.
Meanwhile, the college plans to impose measures that force students to remove masks and show their Emerson ID during protests. This is truly alarming, especially given recent instances where our peers and students at Harvard have been doxxed for daring to advocate for Palestine. Intimidating students into silence under the guise of campus security reveals Emerson’s true disregard for our community’s safety.
After backlash from the brutal crackdown on our encampment, I held onto a sliver of hope that Emerson might at least attempt to salvage some integrity. Instead, the administration deepens the oppressive environment it purported to address during April’s performative town hall. Despite the school’s motto on free expression, Emerson imposed restrictions on the time, place, size, and manner of political protest, and established a seven-day pre-registration period. When students must navigate a labyrinth of red tape just to make our voices heard, there’s a troubling disconnect between the college’s public promises and its actual practices.
The administration unapologetically dismisses the fundamental principles of academic freedom by flaunting their exemption from the First Amendment as a private institution. They strictly enforce federal law when it comes to policies such as banning marijuana on campus, but disregard those same standards when it comes to upholding free speech. This stance is not just a technicality—it’s a flagrant defense to sidestep the principles of democratic engagement in favor of maintaining a sanitized, controlled environment that favors conformity over forum.
These new policies are nothing short of a calculated attempt to suffocate grassroots activism. The intentionally vague language in these policies grants the college unchecked power to set arbitrary conditions at its whim, without clear guidelines or accountability. By unilaterally enforcing policies that severely impact our freedoms, without engaging in meaningful dialogue with students, Emerson commits to a profound lack of respect for its key stakeholders.
We deserve better than this thinly-veiled attempt to stifle our voices.
A campus environment should be a place where we feel safe to express our opinions and engage in activism. The administration must start working alongside students and educators in committing to an objective, transparent decision-making process that begins with honest conversations about policy changes.
I want to feel excited about senior year. Instead, I’m left wondering if Emerson has been fundamentally changed in a way that betrays the principles that brought me here and the value of the degree I’ve worked so hard to earn.
My commitment to my Jewish background and the Palestinian people remains unwavering, but my faith in this college has been irreparably shaken. With a heavy heart, I realize that if I had seen then what I see now, I would not have transferred to Emerson College.
Kylie Morgan is a senior at Emerson College, majoring in Visual and Media Arts. As a transfer student with a strong commitment to social justice, she is dedicated to using her art (be that in writing or film) to inspire and advocate for meaningful change.