Is the Scroll Censored? I Suppose, but That Doesn’t Make it Bad
- JOHN WOO '26
- Mar 23
- 4 min read
“Isn’t the Scroll censored?”
A rather spoken "unspoken" belief that I've heard aplenty during my three years at Deerfield: our school newspaper is a trustee mouthpiece under the thumb of the administration. And it's easy to think that way, especially now that the entire Scroll has fallen under the review of the Academic Affairs Office, following what I know from secondhand experience was the editorial nightmare but a linguistic masterpiece that was Oliver Browne's Op-Ed "On Palestine, or the Violence of Colonization."
As a three-year Op-Ed writer for the Scroll, I feel at least a little qualified to comment on whether the Scroll is censored or not. "Censorship" is a touchy subject on its own, and since I'm rattling a hornet's nest, as boring and cliche as semantics are, I feel that it's necessary to define what I mean by censorship. While Oxford Languages defines censorship as "the suppression or prohibition of any parts of books, films, and news that are considered obscene, politically unacceptable, or a threat to security," censorship of the Scroll disproportionately manifests as the suppression of "politically unacceptable" perspectives, as, importantly, determined by the administration.
Reflecting on my three years writing for the Scroll Op-Ed page, I've reached the conclusion that I don't think the Scroll is censored—except under two very specific circumstances: self-censorship and the editorial board's fear of repercussions from administration.
When I was in elementary school, my mother would often remind me to "think before you speak." It's a form of censorship everyone practices every day, and the same goes for writing a Scroll Op-Ed. Because my name is affixed to the articles I write, I'm ultimately tied to the arguments I advance and the beliefs I stake. Oftentimes, I hesitate whether I want the words I write to be read by the Deerfield community, or at least the faculty—it's a startling experience to say the least when Head of School John P. N. Austin approaches you in the dining hall to say he read your last article. This hesitation is a major part of what separates a Scroll Op-Ed from just a "hot take." As I write articles, I selectively self-censor my most extreme arguments or controversial beliefs out of fear of uncomfortable conversations that I would rather not have with less familiar peers or teachers—there's a boundary for the opinions I'm willing to share.
This self-censorship is healthy. Particularly in journalism outside the Deerfield bubble, writers are held responsible for the beliefs they hold. I don't mean this as a pledge of support to cancel culture, but writing a Scroll Op-Ed means showing enough care about a subject as to be careful in the words you select. The Scroll is censored in the same way my second-grade self was censored by my mother, restricted to staying within the boundaries of an implicit social contract of "acceptability," defined by how much conviction you have to own up to your own words.
The only time I've been explicitly censored in the Scroll was when I wasn't allowed to use the word "conservative" to describe Deerfield. While it's a separate but censored article on its own to assess whether Deerfield is conservative or not, I find it quite ironic that I can employ my arsenal of vocabulary provided by English Teacher Joel Thomas-Adams to call Dr.
Austin's policy of Principled Neutrality "iconoclastic" and "luddite," but the editorial board prevents me from using an everyday, arguably uncharged, adjective to describe Deerfield.
Even if it was just a singular, unimportant adjective in a singular article in three years of Op-Ed writing, I think the context and reason for censoring the word "conservative" was quite significant: the editorial board feared that the administration would look unfavorably upon my word choice. This instance highlights the ambiguity surrounding Scroll censorship, which fuels confusion and speculation among students. Because there aren't clear guidelines in the student handbook or any official Scroll policy that lays out what is and isn't acceptable for publication, the editorial board and self-censorship of writers assumes the place of explicit censorship boundaries.
In longer reflection, yes. The Scroll is censored. Scroll writers censor themselves. Scroll editors guess the imaginary line that administrators and SLO draws to censor adjectives. But just because the Scroll is censored doesn't mean the publication exists just to make the school look good and that its published writing doesn't hold meaning.
"Dissent is the highest form of patriotism," and I think that quote, which I found in Mr. TA's classroom, translates to love for a school as well. I love Deerfield. It's a wonderful school where I'm amazed by the people that surround me everyday and the lessons I learn from the amazing people around me. But because I love Deerfield so much, I know painfully well that it's not perfect. Each time I criticize Deerfield, I write from a deep love for my school and home. The Scroll might be censored, but I ask the Deerfield community and Scroll writers to continue dissenting, pushing and defining the boundaries of censorship, fueled by love for the school we attend.
