The Trinity Administration Accidentally Texted Me Its New Campus Policies

“Olivia Silvey” ’25

Editor-in-Chief

The world found out shortly before noon on April 1, 2025 that Trinity College was implementing a series of new campus policies that would change student life as we know it. 

I, however knew two days before that these changes before these changes would be coming. The reason I knew this is that President Joanne Berger Sweeney, affectionately known as “JBS” had texted me at 10:44 pm on March 30, 2025. On Friday, March 28, I received a connection request on YikYak from a user identified as “BOT”. I assumed this was a glitch or a prank. But I accepted the request. I would later find out this was no bot, but instead the Board of Trustees. 

Two days late, Sunday, at 4:28 p.m., I received a notification that I was to be included in a group chat called “Trinity Policy small group.” A message from “JBS” read as follows: “Team – establishing a group for coordination on new policies, particularly for the upcoming semester. My successor Dan Lugo is pulling together a task force for action items and will send that out later this evening.”

The term “task force” generally refers to a group of senior officials, including the dean, student affairs representatives, and the president. It should go without saying — but I’ll say it anyway — that I have never been invited to a Trinity policy meeting, and in my many years of reporting on campus matters, I had never heard of one being convened over an anonymous gossip app.

Nine minutes later, “Dan Lugo” chimed in, “Looking forward to working with everyone on this!” And at 4:53 p.m., “JBS” wrote, “We need to finalize the petitioning to use the bathroom policy ASAP.”

After receiving the “JBS” text about the new policies, I consulted a number of colleagues. We discussed the possibility that these texts were part of a prank or a bizarre disinformation campaign. I had strong doubts that this chat was real because it seemed absurd that the administration would discuss serious policy changes in such an informal setting.

The next day, things got even stranger.

At 8:05 a.m. on Monday, March 30, “JBS” texted the group: “Team, you should have a draft of the new policies in your inbox. We’ve developed guidelines for the bathroom petitioning process, a censorship policy for critical thinking discussions, and VIP sections for Greek life events.”

At this point, a fascinating discussion commenced. The account labeled “Jason D.” responded, “I think we should delay the bathroom policy until we have more student input. Also, censoring critical thinking seems counterproductive. Any course that encourages critical thinking will have to include a disclaimer: ‘The views expressed are not those of Trinity College and may cause discomfort. Viewer discretion is advised.’”

The conversation continued with various opinions, each more ludicrous than the last, with “Nicholas Roll” insisting on a policy allowing ice cream in all classrooms.

I waited in my dorm, reasoning that if this chat was real, the new policies would soon be implemented. At about noon, I checked the Trinity College website. The announcements were live.

I have never seen a breach quite like this. While it is not uncommon for campus officials to communicate via group chat, the YikYak is generally used for petty gossip and relatable memes, not for detailed discussions of new policies.

In the end, it looks like I accidentally stumbled into a significant moment in Trinity’s history, all thanks to a group chat that no one seemed to notice I was in.