Like most Jewish girls, I grew up with two truths about gossiping. The first truth was “Lason Hara”, or Evil Tongue: the idea that negative speech towards another person or party that is not seriously intended to correct or improve a negative situation is undoubtedly harmful. My grandparents sometimes warned me about being a “Yenta”, the Yiddish word for “gossiper.” However, the second truth was that my family and friends gossiped anyway. My childhood dinners were never complete without my parents complaining about their coworkers, and every school day I’ve had has consisted of overhearing gossip. To this day, I am fascinated by this contradiction; every culture, religion, and society seems to discourage gossip, yet does it anyway. It turns out that the nuances of gossip can reveal a lot about history, culture, and ourselves. 

According to researchers at Stanford and the University of Maryland, gossip is one of humanity’s oldest forms of communication. Hunter-gatherer societies relied on gossip to maintain alliances and share resources. It’s an evolutionary instinct that’s survived for thousands of years, documented through Mesopotamian markets, Athenian plays, and 18th-century novels. Oppressed groups, most notably women, have relied on gossip throughout time for empowerment. In patriarchal structures, gossiping networks have allowed women to share experiences of abuse, create accountability, and build a shared culture, without the potentially limiting oversight of men. All that is to say that gossip sometimes functions as a survival tool. For example, when you tell a friend about someone who hurt you, you are warning them about potential harm (and also getting feedback on how to handle a situation). When we hear gossip, we also effectively learn social cues/norms. For better or for worse, gossiping teaches us what behaviors are acceptable and what the consequences are for those actions. 

However, there are many obvious negative side effects; gossiping can erode trust, create toxic environments, and cause stress. While “venting” to others may allow for temporary emotional relief, it can actually reinforce negative emotions. Additionally, the fear of being talked about can promote positive behavior, but also can lead to overthinking, embarrassment, and overly heightened self-awareness. 

So, why does this matter? BBYO is a space consisting of 60,000 teens, all with diverse backgrounds, personalities, and growing pains. The BBYO code of conduct clearly states, “We believe that gossip is harmful and detrimental to the creation of a community and to individuals.” Gossip is an inevitable, deeply human tendency. The key to managing gossip in BBYO and beyond is not to explicitly ban it and shame/embarrass those who do it, but rather to coach teens on how to handle it thoughtfully.  This means… 

1. Teaching how to distinguish between gossip intended to warn or offer advice and gossip designed to shame, gain power, or entertain
2. Understanding that if teens are going to gossip, we have to change the way they do it. For example, not using direct names/details, coming up with plans of action to deal with the conflict, and focusing on the emotion, rather than the actions of others 
3. Address it before it begins: Prioritize transparency in chapter and regional leadership, communicate clearly with members, and explicitly teach teens conflict-resolution skills, primarily through supportive spaces like separates.
4. Designate a person whom you feel safe venting to, removed from your “circle”–siblings, parents, therapists, advisors, etc. 

Acknowledging the nuances of gossip allows us to build stronger connections with others, especially in teen-led organizations like BBYO. By no means am I encouraging gossip, but I am inviting teen leaders to explore ways we can address and process this practice.