Every course at the university has a page. Students who finished a course leave short, specific notes about how the grade is really earned, what the exams look like and what to do in week one. They also confirm simple facts, like whether attendance is recorded. Students about to take the course read those pages before registering. That's the whole loop: knowledge captured at the end of a term, used at the start of the next.

Only verified students of the university. Signing up requires an address on the university's email domain and possession of that inbox, which a 6-digit code proves. There are no outside accounts, no anonymous drive-by posts, and no way to write without having been verified once.

There are none, on purpose. Scores attached to people become leaderboards, and leaderboards poison honest writing. Instead of averages, Atrium shows consensus counts, like “9 of 11 said attendance is recorded”. It also shows a Coverage number: how much of a page students have filled in. Coverage reflects the volume and usefulness of notes, never a judgment of a person.

Atrium serves one campus at a time, and serves it properly. The pilot runs at Qatar University with the full course catalog seeded from day one. The data model is ready for more universities, and each will open only when there are students there to steward it.

Reading and writing notes is free and will stay free. It only works if every student can reach it. Paid tools (deeper analytics, exam prep sheets, alerts) are coming, and the first 100 students to make an account get them free for a full year, with priority pricing after that.

The first 100 students to verify an account get: every paid tool free for its first year and priority pricing after that, early access before each tool opens generally, a founding badge on their account, and a direct channel to the stewards to shape what gets built. The cap is real. When the 100th account is made, the offer closes.

No note ever displays an author: not a name, not a username, not an avatar, not “Student #42”. Internally, notes are linked to accounts so moderation can work, but no screen in the product can show that link: the display layer simply has no author field. Authorship is consulted for exactly three things: showing you your own notes, rate limits, and moderation standing.

Atrium stores the minimum: your university email, a password hash, and what you write. Nothing is sold, nothing is shared, nothing loads from third-party servers, and the site asks search engines not to index it. Delete your account and your email and sign-in are erased. Your anonymous notes remain, no longer linked to anyone, including us.

Yes, instantly and without asking anyone. Every note you write carries a Withdraw button visible only to you. Withdrawing frees the slot so you can write a better version. There is no edit-in-place by design. Withdrawal is cleaner than arguing about what a note used to say.

In layers, gentlest first. The prompts themselves steer writing toward course mechanics. Every note waits a short cooling period before publishing. A bilingual screen catches person-directed or heated wording and interrupts with a chance to rephrase. It never blocks. Any reader can flag a note, and two flags from different students hold it for review. Student stewards are the last resort, and every action they take is recorded in an audit log.

Professors have no accounts, no dashboard, and no removal rights. Instructors in Atrium are display names for context, never users. What protects them is better than a delete button: notes about people rather than courses are interrupted before posting, flaggable by anyone, and removable by stewards. What protects you is the same wall. No professor can ever learn who wrote a note, because no one can.

For a note that crosses a line, use the Flag link under the note itself. Pick a reason, and two independent flags hold it for steward review automatically. For anything else, such as a bug, an account issue or a question, use the Contact page. Messages land in the stewards' inbox and are answered within two working days.