It’s almost 3 a.m., and I’m at a crossroads most college students understand. I could go to bed, or I could go out. I could eat, I think. I’m not crazy enough to eat a burger, but a shake and some fries sound OK.
As I run down what’s open in my mind, I hear a wild parade of sirens shrieking down Route 1. When no friendly UMD Safety Notice from University Police pops up on my phone, I turn to Yik Yak.
“I have never been so f—— scared in my entire life. Just watched a kid get shot…” one Yakker wrote anonymously.
“There was a fight at McDonald’s.”
“It was a brawl that got out of hand. They tried to use tear gas but that didn’t go well. Reportedly a security guard was assaulted and shot the girl to defend himself.”
According to the official police report, which surfaced about seven hours later, the woman who was shot was unaffiliated with the university and the security guard used pepper spray, not tear gas. But at its core, the message from Yik Yak was clear: Don’t go to McDonald’s.
Yaks are all anonymous, and Yakkers can’t be held accountable for misinformation. But when I hear a chorus of 10 voices on Yik Yak telling me not to go to McDonald’s because a gun was fired, I tend to believe them.
In this case, University Police tried to score points by taking their time. There was no need, according to the department’s judgment, to get the message out right away. The full story wasn’t told, or maybe police knew the security guard was cooperating. If they spilled the same misinformation that Yik Yak did, they’d get flak for it. But no news is not always good news. If I’d shown up bleary-eyed to a crime scene at 3 a.m. to find out University Police had failed to tell me there was a shooting there five minutes ago, I’d swear off advisory messages for good.
Then there was a recent issue of police trying to work too fast. Picture this: You’re walking past Ledo’s and you get this message:
“Advisory: pg/um resp to 7313 bal for man w/gun. sus blk m, 6’ gr sw/shrt, jeans 40’s.fled in unk dir.not believe to be in area.” You better think fast.
Yik Yak eventually crowdsourced the meaning: Police were responding to 7313 Baltimore Ave. to find a 6-foot-tall black man in his 40s with a gun wearing a gray sweatshirt and jeans who fled in an unknown direction. In that imaginary trip past Ledos’ I’d read the address, not understand the rest and panic.
I understand University Police wanted to work on their priorities this time. Within minutes of an incident the police are being dispatched, people are being coordinated and the last thing the police are thinking of is how to translate their work jargon.
The police’s job is extremely hard. If we hear about an incident before police are ready to announce it with vowels, we get mad. If the community hears about an incident only after it has stopped being a threat, we get mad. I just don’t want to feel safer relying on a goofy platform like Yik Yak than I do relying on University Police. Or maybe not. Maybe that goofy Yak mascot will be the McGruff of the future. I wouldn’t charge University Police to keep pace with crazy social media, so I think students should be aware of the side benefit of becoming a Yakker.
Emma Atlas is a junior government and politics major. She can be reached at eatlasdbk@gmail.com.