

By choosing compassion over bitterness and courage over silence, we hold the key to restoring balance to academia.
I t’s hard to forget your first death threat. Mine came on the campus of Amherst College, where I am now a sophomore. I grew up in a family in Jacksonville, Fla., so conservative that I was named after Jeb Bush. I had long wanted to attend a hyper-leftist college, one where I could change academia’s perception of Republicans and Southerners. Amherst was where I decided to undertake this mission. Little did I know what I was in for. It has been a tumultuous year and a half at Amherst College for me: Apart from a death threat, I’ve been stalked, socially isolated, encouraged to transfer, and more.
All of this, however, has strengthened my belief that the only way academia can return to its intended purpose of fostering intellectual diversity, encouraging civil discourse, and preparing the world’s next generation of leaders is not for conservative students to abandon academia. Rather, we must step forward with courage and compassion to rebuild the civil discourse our campuses desperately need.
Upon arriving at Amherst, I was encouraged to remain apolitical; that would have been the rational, self-interested thing to do, after all. But I could not. I serve as the only Republican representative on the 38-member student government, the only conservative writer for the school newspaper, and am co-founder and co-president of the Amherst College Conservatives Club. Predictably, at a campus where almost twice as many students anonymously surveyed in 2024 self-identified as “communist” or “socialist” (10.8 percent) as did “conservative” or “Republican” (6.1 percent), countering the leftist status quo has been challenging.
For a recent article advocating sincere dialogue within academia about DEI, I was stalked and filmed on campus, received hundreds of ad hominem attacks, and was escorted out of the dining hall by the Amherst police after a student’s social media post encouraged others to kill me over what I had written. The backlash grew so severe that our school’s president sent a campus-wide email condemning the vitriol. Members of a student body that claims to champion tolerance and inclusivity have cussed me out in public, asserted the campus would be better if I committed suicide, and said that, despite being my friends, they couldn’t be seen talking to me for fear of judgement by others.
On Fizz, the anonymous social media app solely for students (you need a student email for your institution to use it), posts claimed: “dragging Jeb Allen on Fizz isn’t enough, I need a gunshot,” “all you white racist pigs who support [Trump] will burn in hell”; “whoever this Trump supporter is should be found and shot.”; “all white men who are not gay or trans are poisin [sic],” and “wish hell is real so all republicans can end up there.” Posts arguing I need to transfer schools have been upvoted by nearly a fifth of the student body. More generic posts attacking me have received up to 770 upvotes — over 40 percent of the school.
Yet my article not only proved that left-dominated academia is largely incapable of engaging in meaningful dialogue. It also led many left-leaning students to message me privately and admit they were appalled by the reaction to a respectful viewpoint that many of them found compelling. Additionally, a swarm of closeted conservatives reached out to join our new club or to thank me for spearheading a movement to challenge the dominant narrative openly — a choice we all knew would result in social suicide.
It’s yet more proof that academia has grown increasingly intolerant of conservative viewpoints, creating an insular and unchallenged ideological environment. During a time of heightened polarization, America needed its academic institutions to uphold the principles of tolerance, inclusion, and academic freedom. They have pitifully failed. Instead, they chose to appease the demands of far-left students and to become elitist, hyper-left echo chambers.
But there has been one beneficial unintended effect of this: a surge in moderate students dissatisfied with far-left campus environments. RealClearEducation discovered that more than 80 percent of students, regardless of political affiliation, self-censor out of fear of backlash. To appeal to these students, conservatives must embrace the daunting yet rewarding task of dismantling political monocultures through bold advocacy and leadership.
We must attend left-dominated academic institutions, run for their student governments, write for their school newspapers, and found political clubs — especially if it means student bodies will overreact and drag us through the mud. By allowing moderate and undecided students to witness firsthand how selective campus “tolerance” can be, we expose the disconnect between rhetoric and reality. Indeed, this is already happening. Public confidence in academia has plummeted to 36 percent. This reflects growing frustration with ideological rigidity in elite institutions. Rather than abandon academia, conservatives need to be the change makers offering students a real alternative — one that champions open inquiry, free speech, and intellectual diversity.
When the Amherst administration met with me to discuss repercussions for the student who made the death threat, I knew her comment would have surely resulted in suspension or expulsion. So I requested to dismiss all disciplinary action and instead have a conversation with the student. Had our roles been reversed, I have no doubt I would have been swiftly expelled as the campus applauded my removal. But revenge only deepens divides. I hope this student, rather than carrying lifelong bitterness toward Republicans over a reckless comment made in college, will recognize that her future remained intact because the very person she threatened chose to intervene on her behalf. Perhaps this will change her perspective.
Taking the high road is difficult. But it’s the path conservative students must follow to create real change. Academia has proven its institutions won’t take action unless students make it impossible to ignore the injustices that occur within them. So that is precisely what we must do.
We must vehemently advocate our beliefs, but also emphasize respect, empathy, and compassion during our endeavors to counter the growing polarization of academia. By choosing compassion over bitterness and courage over silence, conservative students hold the key to restoring balance to academia. Our ultimate goal should be not merely to reclaim free speech, but to reclaim the very integrity of American education itself.