It’s a Sunday morning in August and my roommates have slung themselves across our common room, limbs stretched and noses tucked behind various screens. I lay on my back on our — already stained, two weeks into the semester — rug, having missed out on the opportunity for the hottest commodity we have to offer, a seat on the couch. Six girls, from six different walks of life, brought together by a commitment deposit and a couple of DMs five months prior. Occasionally, someone reads aloud the text from a stupid TikTok or comments on the Instagram story of those-girls-we-met-downstairs. I flick open the newest app on my phone, grin overtaking my face: “Oh god, you have got to hear this one…”
“What is Physics 122 curve like?” “Frats please please please clean the broken glass off the floors.” “Just saw some guy walk into late night at 9:04 p.m. actively rubbing his tummy bro thinks life is sunshine and rainbows.” “I’m so ready for the sun to SHINE again.” “LMK if wanna link.”
These quotes are a small sample of some of the posts you could find under the hot tab on Binghamton University’s YikYak last Sunday.
After my first week on campus, where my friends and I first discovered the anonymous social media app, comparing increasingly ridiculous posts became a common activity after a long day of classes or over brunch on a weekend morning. YikYak allows students to start, contribute to and view discussion threads within a five-mile radius.
After its launch in 2013, the YikYak site shut down in 2017 due to its failure to manage content moderation, later returning in 2021. Nine years ago, the app was overrun with unmoderated racism, antisemitism, sexism and cyber-bullying.
Although its newest iteration is improved, that doesn’t mean the app isn’t plagued by controversy. Whether over dining hall quality, classes and professors, nightlife, sorority and fraternity culture or where exactly upstate New York is, the discourse is never-ending. Debates range from judgmental and reductive to straight-up offensive.
Anonymity, by design, strips people of identity and fear over what they’re revealing and to whom. There’s no need to fear social consequences, so people jump at the opportunity to give someone they disagree with a piece of their mind. This is part of the app’s function, as mentions of full names and personal photos are discouraged and oftentimes banned. There’s no way to trace whether two posts were made by the same person.
Functionally, this means a lot of vague posts about specific individuals — my roommate or the guy in the red hoodie on the Spine this afternoon — and political, interpersonal or otherwise controversial debates out in the open for anyone to see.
YikYak is not by any means unique in its provocative environment. Most popular sites today — TikTok, Instagram, X — are infamous for inflammatory posts, misinformation and polarizing arguments. Beyond anonymity, what differentiates YikYak from sites like X or Reddit is that it groups people by one thing — their university or institution.
Beyond the senseless and seemingly never-ending squabbling, the site is often populated by people sharing their — often deeply personal — experiences as young people in university seeking advice. Ironic or not, posts like “I am so insanely homesick it’s genuinely affecting my mental health,” “i’m scared for my test tomorrow i’m 19 and still a virgin i think i’m developing an eating disorder and none of my friends wanna live w me next year” and “How do I make friends here? Like l’ve been here for 3 years and I know 3 people” are rooted in a kind of loneliness that can be wearying to navigate and venting these feelings offers some sense of comfort.
The whiplash between different types of posts can be severe, as can the difference in engagement. It’s easy to criticize a person for using social media to vent, to forget there’s a real person on the other side of the screen. Sometimes these posts receive positive and supportive responses from other students, but more often than not, they barely get a few upvotes. People look for solace and relatability regarding their mental health, relationships and other personal issues because they likely don’t have the bravery or the support system to reach out in real life. More likely than not, that isolation is only intensified by a lack of response.
On the other hand, the community is where the app really shines.
Debates aren’t baseless. They’re rooted in everyday experiences of students on and off campus. These students are attending the same lectures, events and parties. They’re walking the same sidewalks and are irritated by the same incessant construction. They ask for advice on housing, course selection and employment and receive positive responses from people who genuinely want to help.
Good or bad, YikYak certainly does have its moments. I’m sure many of us remember discussions of a certain blonde man who drove a gray Kia Soul last Halloween, who may or may not have had something more on the way than just anonymous fame, but this kind of outreach potential offers more than what meets the eye.
There’s something to be said about the kind of community created by being a university student. It’s an institution that brings together young people from diverse backgrounds, trying to get a degree while navigating adulthood at the same time.
YikYak posts have a bigger impact than just cracking us up. They connect us, online and off and whether it be wishing for a snow day or whining about a terrible organic chemistry exam, they remind us we’re not alone at BU.
Megan Buchovecky is a freshman majoring in philosophy, politics and law.
Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial.