Henry Abbott

On October 19, 2023, in an email sent to all students and employees with the subject line “Offering support,” President Safa Zaki declared: “… I decided upon my arrival at the College—and shared this decision with several of you—that it would not be my practice to issue statements.”

With this declaration, President Zaki made an administration-altering choice—one rooted in institutional fear: Fear of jeopardizing the financial security of a 230-year-old institution, fear of the opinions of those with the authority to challenge her newly established administration and fear of the unknown future. Under no local, national or international circumstances would Bowdoin’s current administration address the thousands of individuals who are a part of this institution. Since then, we have seen no shortage of horrific, spectacular and unimaginable events—from natural disasters to political upheavals—that have shaken our communities and demanded reflection, empathy and action.

We have faced the devastation of wildfires that destroyed approximately 12,000 homes in California. We have witnessed the swearing-in of a new United States President, accompanied by both celebration and protest. We have heard Brunswick School Department Superintendent Phillip J. Potenziano issue a statement this week affirming the district’s commitment to inclusivity and student well-being, declaring: “Schools have been sanctuaries—protected spaces where students can grow, learn, thrive and belong.”

Contrast this with President Zaki’s approach, and a troubling pattern emerges: The choice of silence from Bowdoin’s administration has fostered a culture of individual worry and community anxiety among students, staff and faculty. The lack of communication during times of crisis undermines the community that the College claims to value. While the October email alluded to “opportunities to grieve, think and learn together,” the administration’s refusal to make statements disincentivizes those very opportunities and reinforces a status quo that prioritizes institutional self-preservation over communal support.

Bowdoin’s decision to remain silent on pressing issues is not an act of neutrality but one of complicity. Silence in the face of injustice or turmoil is a statement in itself—one that places the continuation of the institution above the individuals who sustain it. This approach sends a clear message: No matter what happens in the world, the College will remain static, clinging to the preservation of its legacy rather than engaging with the challenges of our time.

Superintendent Potenziano’s words highlight how institutions can provide hope and reassurance through meaningful communication. His statement reaffirmed our local community’s commitment to supporting vulnerable students, demonstrating the profound impact of acknowledging the realities faced by those within our community. Such leadership builds trust and mitigates the pervasive sense of uncertainty that many feel in turbulent times.

Bowdoin’s refusal to make statements may be an attempt to avoid controversy, but in doing so, it erodes the very foundation of community that the College claims to uphold and undermines its role as a leader in the local community. Communication fosters connection, and silence breeds alienation. In moments of crisis, people turn to their leaders for guidance, reassurance and solidarity. When leaders fail to respond, they leave a vacuum that amplifies fear, worry and anxiety. Silence, in this context, is not an opportunity—it is an abdication of responsibility.

As members of the Bowdoin community, we deserve more than silence. We deserve a leadership that reflects our values, engages with our concerns and demonstrates courage in the face of uncertainty. As a prominent institution in our community, the College must reflect on whether it truly serves as a leader or simply rests on its reputation. Leadership requires not only courage, but a willingness to engage openly with difficult issues and embody the values it professes. Without this, the individual worry stemming from institutional fear will only continue to grow, leaving us to question what kind of community we truly belong to.

Emma Barton-Norris is a Processing Archivist in the Department of Special Collections & Archives at Hawthorne-Longfellow Library.