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Across the United States, several states have introduced or passed legislation that would severely restrict Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) work on college campuses. Some of these bills prohibit the teaching of critical race theory or other frameworks that acknowledge systemic racism (like Florida’s House Bill 999); others (like Texas’ Senate Bill 17) would require universities to close their DEI offices and ban mandatory diversity training. These bills have raised concerns among DEI professionals and advocates, who argue that they not only stifle academic freedom but also undermine efforts to create inclusive and equitable learning environments.
Critics of this legislation argue that banning or limiting DEI work on campuses will undo decades of progress on college campuses, making students from underrepresented groups feel less welcome and halting progress toward making campuses more representative of states’ racial makeup. In addition, the applications for many federal grants ask schools to enumerate what a school or program has done to demonstrate a commitment to diversity, so limiting DEI work may also have the unintended consequence of making it more difficult for schools to receive federal funding.
In spite of these criticisms, many state legislators seem committed to moving forward with these initiatives. Those in higher education committed to promoting diversity may soon find themselves facing the prospect of continuing this important work without the support of an official DEI office. I spoke to Jocie Sobieraj, assistant director of admissions at The Heller School of Brandeis University and DEI coordinator for the office, who previously worked at the University of Texas Austin’s Longhorn Center for Academic Equity’s Monarch Student program, to share some ideas about how those in higher education might continue to support vulnerable students in the face of diversity bans. “If an institution expects only the DEI office to do the work of promoting diversity,” Sobieraj says, “it’s almost a set-up for failure. I think that faculty, and student support services, whether that’s residential life, academic advising, admissions, etc., all of us have a role to play in recruiting, retaining, and supporting those students and making sure that they’re still having a good experience. And a lot of that can be done without the official tag of ‘this is DEI’ work.”
One strategy, if staff members are not permitted to talk about race, is to offer support in ways that may correlate with race. “Disproportionately,” Sobieraj explained, “domestic students of color are going to be first generation, particularly domestic Black students and domestic Latino students, and so I think that it can be a clever way to still try to support students who are racially minoritized while also not talking about race explicitly.” Similarly, shifting the conversation to focus on visa status (by offering specialized support for undocumented students or permanent residents) or to students for whom English is a second language can not only help to support these students who are racial minorities on campus, but also can signal a commitment to diversity while circumventing explicit discussions of race.
It’s likely, Sobieraj suggests, that in the event that Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion offices are outlawed, the staff members working in those offices will be moved to different offices on campus, where they will continue to do similar work, just more subversively. A key priority for institutions will be thinking strategically about how to re-brand offices and job positions to meet legal requirements while still making sure that students know about the resources available to them. Staff in DEI offices (or those that offer DEI support) can start considering now how their organization might be able to develop “code words” that are both subtle enough to evade notice while explicit enough to signal to students that the office is there to help them.
It’s also important to note that although the language in many of these bans implies that DEI equals race, and only race, the elimination of DEI offices will also likely affect students who are marginalized on the axis of age, religion, gender, sexuality, ability, and more. Staff and faculty should also keep these students in mind when reimagining how to support students across campus: even if mandatory diversity trainings are forbidden, providing optional workshops, not only about race, but about disability policy, pronoun usage, etc., will continue to be important for ensuring that all students have a positive experience on campuses.
Should restrictions be put in place, an important first step, Sobieraj suggests, is to reach out to current students: “Check in with the current students and see how they are feeling. I think one thing I’ve realized is that there’s really a lot that gets lost in translation of policy and students. I know in the immigrant student work I’ve done, the work is partially just having open conversations about the political landscape. I think having as much transparency as possible will be really important because it can be easy for students to start panicking, so making sure students feel aware, and also like they have agency in the conversation is crucial.”
Despite legislative bans that restrict explicit diversity work on campuses in a variety of ways, staff and faculty members must remain resolute in their commitment to supporting marginalized students. This may necessitate exploration of innovative and creative approaches to promote DEI values within the constraints imposed by the state, but by embracing alternative avenues, higher education professionals can forge a path forward that ensures the transformative power of DEI work endures.
