Willow Rodriguez

A&E Editor

There’s an epidemic on campus. It involves white students using racial slurs under the guise of “jokes,” “quotes”, or “passes.” This could be dropping the n-word while singing a song, shouting a slur as a joke or slipping offensive terms into group chats. In all, these actions aren’t harmless. They are intentional choices, and they hurt.

Let’s be clear: there is no context, no “pass”, and no punchline that justifies using slurs that were born out of violence and dehumanization. When white students use them — whether for laughs or for shock value — they’re not being edgy or sporting “dark humor.” They’re perpetuating racism.

The problem is not only the use of these words, but also the effort to justify or excuse them. I’ve heard it all: “But my Black friend said I could,” or “It’s just a lyric”, or “You know I don’t mean it like that.” These excuses are overused and hollow. A so-called “n-word pass” does not exist in any real way. It does not undo the centuries of brutality tied to the word, nor does it shield you from the social and ethical consequences of using it.

The same goes for slurs in other communities. When someone says a derogatory term about a Latino, Asian or Indigenous person, it’s not “just a word” or something funny you saw in a meme. It’s the normalization of prejudice. It’s turning real histories of oppression into punchlines for the amusement of those who’ve never had to live them.

Often, these slurs are used in settings where the targeted communities are either vastly underrepresented or pressured into silence. That’s not a conversation or dialogue — that’s a show of power by the majority. It’s reinforcing a hierarchy where white students feel entitled to speak however they want, even if it means disrespecting or demeaning others.

Some might argue that calling out this behavior stifles free speech. However, free speech does not mean freedom from accountability. If your idea of humor involves racial slurs, the problem isn’t censorship — it’s your values.

Others will say that we’re being too sensitive, that “nobody really means it” anymore. But intent does not erase impact. If nobody “really means it,” why is the use of these words still so provocative, still so loaded and still able to wound?

Students of color are tired. Tired of explaining why these words hurt, tired of being expected to educate others and tired of navigating spaces where their identities are casually disrespected for entertainment. If you’re white and you think that you’re not part of the problem, take a moment to really listen. Have you laughed at that joke? Stayed silent when someone said something awful? Quoted a song uncensored just to see if anyone would react?

Silence enables harm, and so does deflection. If we’re going to be a community that values inclusion, then we need to draw clear lines. Saying slurs should be one of them.

This isn’t about being “politically correct.” It’s about recognizing that your words, your jokes and your actions carry weight. If you truly care about the people around you, you’ll stop using language designed to demean them.

It’s 2025. If you still think saying slurs makes you funny or edgy, the only thing you’re proving is your ignorance.