“The way I like to dress is more out of comfort, and I just like looking good,” Zepka said.

“It’s also a mix of my gender identity and music, and definitely things I get from my friends that I like to include.”

Certain songs, according to Zepka, also impact their style and aesthetic.

“Some songs (that also influence me) are ‘Cariño’ by The Marias and ‘Fences’ by Destroy Boys,” they said.

Zepka describes their personality to be dramatic and intense. These attributes influence their aesthetic — for instance, they use stars and thick eyeliner to accentuate their eyes. Dressing this way has not always been easy for Zepka, and they have been ridiculed for their stylistic choices in the past. Over time, however, they have become increasingly immune to insults.

“(Thinking back), that was so dumb of me to take that personally because (the people who made comments) were strangers,” Zepka said. “Why should I care about their opinion if they don’t even know me?”

This mindset shift allowed Zepka to develop new ways of displaying their individuality.

“(Cutting and dyeing my hair) is like a coping mechanism,” they said. “A lot of the time, you can’t control change, but this is just one small change you can control,and sometimes I (end up) actually really liking it.”

This oversensitivity is well intentioned. Those restricting their comments for political correctness — any measure taken to avoid offending or disadvantaging members of a particular group — often do so to respect and uplift marginalized communities. However, when taken to an extreme, this approach often does the opposite: When people push for extreme political correctness, to the point where they censor and restrict ideas, they limit the potential for meaningful conversations, promote binary thinking and exacerbate polarization.

Although inclusivity increases when people feel safe and respected, it also drops when they fear challenging ideas. For instance, trigger warnings — originally intended to help vulnerable individuals prepare for and avoid traumatizing material — have since become common online, even in arguably unnecessary contexts, such as discussions about racial discrimination or instances of hateful language.

In fact, in an Atlantic article, author and attorney Jill Filipovic writes that trigger warnings often seem to be “more about emphasizing the upsetting nature of certain topics than about accommodating people who had experienced traumatic events.” The effect of trigger warnings has evolved into labeling controversial and uncomfortable topics as “dangerous.” This shift promotes ignoring distressing issues rather than learning to listen and work through them.

Additionally, political correctness makes differentiating between hate speech and controversial opinions difficult. By prioritizing limiting offense over understanding different viewpoints, oversensitivity can further create polarization and conflict.

Amid the Israel-Hamas war, for example, the conflation of hate speech and controversial speech has become especially visible: Criticism toward Israel is sometimes taken as antisemitism, and pro-Palestinian points of view are sometimes quickly classified as pro-Hamas. Such generalizations erase layers of important nuance in a complex geopolitical conflict, precluding understanding on both sides and exacerbating polarization. Thus, even if people disagree with certain opinions or find them to be hurtful, they must remain respectful toward one another and listen with the intent of thinking critically about the issue at hand.

In higher education, political correctness has made college students — who will play key roles in shaping the future of the U.S. — afraid to engage in meaningful discourse. According to a September 2021 survey by Intelligent, an online magazine serving students, 52% of college students say they “always” or “often” hold back from expressing views on political and social issues in classrooms out of concern for being shamed or other potential consequences.

College campuses are meant to be bastions of free speech, allowing students to engage with ideologically complex material with thoughtfulness and empathy. If students feel unable to voice opinions regarding controversial topics, they cannot learn. Moreover, these habits only become more entrenched later in life, discouraging students from advocating controversial or unpopular views beyond school as well.

Ultimately, oversensitivity to the point of extreme political correctness restricts discourse more than it protects people. Respect toward one another shouldn’t need to come at the expense of intellectual inquiry and necessary — if uncomfortable — conversations. When people use their differences in belief as an invitation to better understand themselves and others, they improve trust and their relationships. Nuanced discourse, built on dismantling extreme political correctness, renders a tremendous service to society. It is the first step toward a more inclusive world.

Gallery • 3 Photos

Chloe Wu

On Feb. 27, during an extended lunch in the library, Gunn administrators hosted a Listening Session to allow students to voice their perspectives on Gunn’s wellness initiatives and student mental health in the aftermath of Feb. 20’s student death.Ìę

Tables seating six to seven students were organized in the library, each focused on one of three topics: SELF and Other Offerings, Student Supports (the Wellness Center, counseling and staff), and Mental Health and Stress. Students sat at tables of their choice with one to two adult mental health professionals —  including the district’s head of mental health services Dawn Yoshinaga, student services district officials, school and district psychologists, school counselors, Wellness staff, the crisis response team, and staff members with expertise — along with admin and counselors, who helped facilitate.Ìę

The event had originally been planned for Feb. 23, the same day as the student walkout. In an effort to safeguard at-risk students and offer them with a safe space, Stratton convened with six student leaders — ASB President senior Nathan Levy; SEC Special Events Commissioner senior Ruth Jaquette; School Board Representative senior Chris Lee (who is also a managing editor for Âé¶č·ĆÓłĂâ·Ń); SEC Wellness Commissioner senior Daniel van Schewick; Reach Out, Care, Know Club co-president junior Beverly Lamis; and ROCK board member junior Grace Missett — about arranging a Town Hall.Ìę

She mentioned that the group of students persuaded the administration team to postpone the event to allow students more time to process. They also advocated for a Listening Session rather than a Town Hall for more voices to be heard and for students to talk in smaller groups — reducing the risk of a student’s breaking down in front of the entire group.Ìę

Prior to table-group discussions during the Listening Session, Principal Dr. Wendy Stratton addressed misconceptions and concerns regarding the student death and subsequent events. SELF Coordinator Kathryn Catalano, Assistant Principal Courtney Carlomagno, and Stratton then explained the event’s guidelines.

“I’ve learned from this experience so far that when you don’t necessarily communicate what you’re doing, people will think you are doing nothing,” Stratton said to the group. “That could not be further from the truth.” 

Board President Jesse Ladomirak and Board member Jennifer DiBrienza also went over Board policy regarding memorializations. According to them, the priority is protecting the most vulnerable, at-risk students — who might potentially be harmed by a public memorial — even if it may not align with other students’ wishes.

During discussions, facilitators prompted students with initial conversation-starters regarding the table’s topic, including questions such as, “What opportunities and challenges do you see in the school’s delivery of the SELF program?” To ensure all participants could voice their concerns and experiences, each table provided a bubble wand to help facilitate turn-taking, while the professionals recorded notes to be used for reference in future meetings.

Senior Henry Peng, who attended the event, appreciated that he was given an opportunity to speak with administrators, who have a direct impact on how the school operates and decide on the changes made.Ìę

“I expected a presentation — I didn’t expect a group chat,” Peng said. “(But) I think it’s better than a presentation, (because) rather than just people sitting there listening to a lecture, it’s pretty nice that students get to be involved with how the school is viewing stuff. I really like how the school is prioritizing students’ views right now.” 

Sophomore Alisa Sonehara — a board member on Solis, a local student-led nonprofit promoting youth mental-health awareness — echoed Peng’s sentiments. However, she had hoped for more nuanced discussion on a variety of issues, feeling she was constrained to the three initial questions.Ìę 

“I wish we could cover more in depth of other parts because I feel like at one point, everyone at the table was kind of just repeating themselves, but overall, it was pretty good,” she said.Ìę

Processing grief and shock as a community is the pathway to recovery and achieving some form of inner peace, according to event facilitator counselor Cora Ross. She echoed that open conversation and communication is one of the most effective ways the administration can aid students through difficult times.Ìę  

“The way in which I understand or know to process myself, or to encourage others to process that seems as effective as possible, is to talk,” Ross said. “It is to come together as a community, to grieve and to communicate our needs. Just to get that little knot that sits in the top of our throats, often just pars(ing) through it with somebody else (or) sharing what you’re going through can often be an enormous relief.”

Events such as this one also make way for a more student-centric educational approach, according to Stratton. She noted that students also helped shape the Schoology post she sent out on Feb. 29 about student wellness.

“I see now the paradigm shift where experts dictate ‘dos’ and ‘don’ts’ versus centering students at the center of discourse is much richer,” she said. “We’re showing that we don’t necessarily have all the answers right now, but we’re listening and trying.” 

According to Stratton, administrators’ next course of action, after recording around 34 pages of notes, will be to hold a series of meetings — each on a single theme and its corresponding student feedback — with five to six student leaders. Thus far, Stratton and Catalano regrouped with the student-leaders on March 1 to debrief facilitators’ notes, using a “four-step thinking process” to address the facts and consider policy changes. According to Levy and van Schewick, student suggestions included requiring freshmen to visit the Wellness therapists for earlier exposure to resources, creating a publicized list of teacher response protocols during difficult times, and implementing Wellness team visits to Advanced Placement and SELF classes.

“I’m really excited to know that there’s a structure like this that I can now tap into to get information on whatever is occurring and moving forward for the students,” Stratton said.

Junior Jennifer Li, president of the Reach Out, Care, Know Club, which focuses on mental health awareness, shared that although students might not be trying to offend others, using these phrases shows insensitivity — and the harm is real.

“You genuinely don’t know the severity of what someone’s going through, and if you haven’t experienced it yourself, then you’re not going to know that it takes (a certain type of) sensitivity to understand these issues,” she said. “I just think people need to be more aware that there are actually people who do want to kill themselves at this school, and it’s not just funny.”

Li said these phrases cause those who are experiencing severe problems with mental health to think their struggles are normal, which discourages them from reaching out for help.

“In reality, not everyone is experiencing these mental- health problems, and it is important for you to get help,” she said. “(Just because) other people are depressed at this school doesn’t make (depression) normal.”

Beyond hallways and classrooms, the typed-up letters “KMS,” short for “kill myself,” fill social media platforms. According to sophomore Dolly Wu, founder of mental-health nonprofit Solis Mental Health, posts like these portray suicidal thoughts as not only normal but appealing.

“Trends of glorifying and romanticizing mental health (can be) really harmful because if teens are being constantly exposed to depression as a beautiful thing — for example, the aesthetics of crying or self-harming — then they will start making that part of their identity instead of trying to seek help,” she said.

As these phrases are so common, students can find
it difficult to know when someone is actually struggling with severe mental health or simply exaggerating.

Wu shared that one friend, for example, says “I’m going to kill myself” frequently. Because of how normalized the saying is, however, their struggle or cries for help can be easily disregarded.

“A lot of people around him just wave it off, but I think these are kind of the instances where we should really  try to reach out to them,” Wu said. “These are specific examples where we have to draw the line between people just saying and joking about (suicidal thoughts) versus people having those thoughts actually.”

The has seen a , alongside one of , in the U.S. Recent crimes against Muslims and Arabs include the , and at the local level, a on an Arab Muslim Stanford University student currently being investigated as a hate crime.Ìę

At this meeting, Muslim and Arab community members said that City Council members were not adequately addressing their concerns. They also shared their experiences with prejudice, spanning harassment, stereotypes, slurs, doxing and discrimination, even prior to Oct. 7. They explained that they are frequently and falsely associated with terrorism and violence, due to their ethnicity, race or religion.Ìę

Uzma, a Muslim resident of Palo Alto and mother of PAUSD students who wished to be identified by her first name only, presented slides titled “Local Muslim and Arab Experiences in the Face of Rising Islamophobia and Anti-Arab Hate” during the meeting.Ìę

“I definitely feel (Islamophobia), I definitely feel it in the glances that I get when I wear a hijab,” she said in an interview. “I’m afraid to wear a hijab outside, and I feel that when dehumanization is happening overseas, it can also lead to dehumanization here.” 

PAUSD students’ parents also shared their worry over unaddressed Islamophobia and their children’s safety. Muslim and Arab presenters at the meeting cited several incidents caused by stereotyping and Islamophobia, including an incident during which a PAUSD teacher removed Arabic writing from a presentation about Khaled Hosseini’s “Kite Runner” after a student voiced concerns.Ìę They also mentioned a statistic from a : According to a conducted by the California chapter of the Council on American-Islamic Relations, 56% of Muslim youth respondents reported feeling unsafe at school due to their identity and 20% have missed school because of it.

“I don’t want my children to experience what I experienced,” Ahmed, a Palo Alto resident and PAUSD parent who wished to be identified by his first name only, said in an interview with Âé¶č·ĆÓłĂâ·Ń.Ìę

These concerns around PAUSD’s response to the conflict follow an Oct. 27 school-board meeting at which the Board . At the school-board meeting, Jewish, Muslim, Arab and Middle Eastern/North African students expressed concerns regarding student safety.Ìę

Ahmed, who moved to Palo Alto in hopes of living in an inclusive, safe environment, said he recently perceived an indifference in the City’s responses to injustices faced by different groups.Ìę

“I want the City to be balanced (and) the city to recognize that there are Jewish members of the community who are feeling pain and are experiencing antisemitism, and we recognize that,” he said in an interview. “But also (for the City) to realize that there are members (like) Palestinians and Muslims in this community that are also feeling pain and feeling dehumanized, because the City’s government is actually not explicitly acknowledging our pain.” 

Several community members proposed ways to help the Muslim and Arab community feel heard and to break down hatred and stereotypes. They recommended creating more bridges for people, primarily students, to learn about different cultures and experiences.Ìę

“I think one of the greatest things we can do is have those types of cultural things that are part of our culture, identity and heritage (be) celebrated,” Uzma said in an interview. “When terrible things are happening overseas, we have to kind of double down on the joy, which is hard to do, because it’s difficult when you see someone suffering in the world. But things like the festivals and the literary festivals and talking about prominent Muslim Americans from the past, like Muhammad Ali, actually goes a long way.” 

According to Human Relations Commission Vice Chair Adriana Eberle, the commission will be reconvening in February to discuss how community members’ concerns may be addressed.Ìę

 The HRC’s Jan. 12, 2024 meeting will address antisemitism faced by Jewish community members.

Gunturkun and his family first moved to Memphis, Tennessee, and after living there for three years, they moved to Palo Alto. When he first moved to the U.S., Gunturkun’s biggest challenge was learning a new language. “When I first came, I had zero knowledge of English,” he said. “I couldn’t speak or understand (it). That was a really big challenge I had to face when I came (because) when I went to school, I couldn’t understand anything.”

Although Gunturkun’s move was challenging, it was also rewarding: The U.S. promised immigrants like Gunturkun and his family stronger educational opportunities and higher standards of living than those accessible to them in Turkey. In recent years, the Turkish government’s policies have caused extensive growth in the manufacturing sector, according to the World Bank, which has led to inflation. “Here it is not really like that,” Gunturkun said. “We can afford a lot of things that we wouldn’t be able to get back in Turkey, and (those things) could be essential for life. For example, because of hyperinflation, everything from food to houses are much more expensive.”

Although it took him time to adjust to his new surroundings, Gunturkun was able to surround himself with people with shared interests and to access educational resources that granted him unique opportunities. After the changes he’s adapted to and the challenges he’s overcome, he reflects on his growth and looks forward to his life in the U.S. “I made new friends and I went to a new school, but I’m still the same person as I was in Turkey,” he said. “But (after moving to the U.S.) it’s helped me get more opportunities in comparison to Turkey.”