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Showing posts with label Atty. General Ken Paxton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Atty. General Ken Paxton. Show all posts

Saturday, June 13, 2026

Gender-Baiting Is Dehumanizing—And It Hurts Families Across the Political Spectrum, by Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.

Gender-Baiting Is Dehumanizing—And It Hurts Families Across the Political Spectrum

by 

Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.

June 13, 2026

Elaine Godfrey’s Atlantic piece on the Paxton-Talarico Senate race is a sobering reminder that we are likely to see an ugly campaign season in Texas. Already, the attacks on James Talarico have moved beyond policy disagreement into gender-baiting, mockery, and false claims about his identity. These tactics are not only dishonest; they are dehumanizing.

Whatever one thinks of Talarico’s politics, no candidate should be reduced to insults about masculinity, gender identity, or sexuality. This kind of rhetoric does not merely target one public figure. It sends a message to every LGBTQIA perso—and to every young person who is questioning, searching, or simply different—that their dignity is conditional and that their humanity can be turned into a punchline.

That cruelty is especially painful because Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer/Questioning, Intersex, and Asexual (LGBTQIA) people are not abstractions. They are our children, siblings, cousins, parents, students, neighbors, colleagues, and friends. They live in Democratic families, Republican families, religious families, secular families, rural families, urban families, and every kind of Texas family. 

Geez, human variation does not sort itself neatly by party, denomination, ZIP code, or ideology. 

That is not “higher education gobbledygook.” It is lived reality.

So when political leaders mock gender identity or use anti-LGBTQIA insinuations to score points, they are almost certainly wounding people in their own communities—and quite possibly in their own families. 

They may imagine they are attacking an opponent, but the damage radiates outward. It reaches the child listening from the back seat, the teenager in the pew, the college student afraid to come home, the parent who loves their child but now feels politically cornered into silence.

Most positively, this moment also reminds us that LGBTQIA people have never been merely the objects of ridicule or fear. They are agents of courage, culture, family, faith, scholarship, public service, and democratic possibility. Every year on June 28, communities around the world observe International LGBT Pride Day, honoring the anniversary of the 1969 Stonewall uprising in New York City—a watershed moment that helped catalyze the modern gay liberation movement. 

Pride is not only a celebration. It is a public affirmation that people who have been shamed, criminalized, silenced, and excluded are fully human and fully worthy of dignity, safety, joy, and belonging.

Happy Pride Month, by the way!

This is why gender-baiting is so morally bankrupt. It asks us to move backward, toward shame and stigma, precisely when history calls us forward—toward recognition, repair, and love.

This is not strength. It is not faith. It is not leadership. It is the politics of humiliation.

Texas deserves better than campaigns built on ridicule. We can debate taxes, schools, health care, immigration, war, democracy, and the future of the state without stripping people of their dignity. In fact, we must. A democracy worthy of the name depends not only on votes and institutions, but on the moral discipline to recognize one another as fully human.

The truth is simple: LGBTQIA Texans belong to all of us. They are part of every community, including those that pretend otherwise. To attack them for political gain is to attack the sacred fabric of family, faith, and human dignity itself.

Reference

Stonewall riots. (2026, June 12). In Wikipediahttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stonewall_riots

Paxton versus Talarico is already awful.  


Mark Felix / Bloomberg / Getty
May 27, 2026

TWO THINGS are as certain as bluebonnets in spring now that Ken Paxton is the Republican nominee for the Senate in Texas: Democrats have a better-than-usual chance of winning statewide. And the next 23 weeks are going to be hideous.

Paxton’s big win comes days after President Trump stuck his finger into the wind, determined that the incumbent, John Cornyn, was toast, and gave the attorney general his last-minute support. Even though the nearly 28-point margin was surprising, it was probably always going to be Paxton. A runoff tends to attract the hardest of the hard-core—the kind of determined voter who is willing not only to show up to vote in March, but to show up and vote in March, sit through 12 weeks of brutal attack ads, then head back out to the polls in May. The kind of Republican who might argue, as one woman did in Dallas when I spoke with her last week, that Paxton and Trump are bringing masculinity back to the party like Bambi’s father “coming out of the forest with those huge antlers.”

Now that these dutiful Republicans have secured the animated stag of their dreams, they will turn their attention to his general-election opponent: James Talarico, the 37-year-old Democratic state lawmaker and aspiring Presbyterian minister. In some ways, the two men have become avatars for their respective parties, which will spend the next five months ruthlessly attacking each other.

Paxton, a MAGA folk hero, seems even more committed to the movement than Trump himself is. As attorney general, he filed dozens upon dozens of lawsuits against Presidents Obama and Biden, and sued to overturn the 2020 election results. Paxton and Trump happen to share a strikingly similar ethical and legal rap sheet: Both men have been indicted (Paxton’s charges involved securities fraud and were dismissed after he agreed to do community service and take an ethics class); both have been impeached (Paxton was suspended by the Texas House but later acquitted by the Senate); and both have been accused of—and deny—infidelity. (Angela Paxton is now divorcing Ken on “biblical grounds.”)

Although Talarico doesn’t yet have Paxton’s name recognition, he does have strong youth-pastor energy and, at least for now, the moral high ground. As a faith-forward economic populist, Talarico has a core campaign message of love triumphing over hate, and little guys taking on the billionaires. Republicans know that they’ve got a tough race ahead of them, which is why they’ve already settled on a strategy: make Talarico seem like a weird dude.

Unfortunately for Democrats, Talarico has been more than a little helpful in this effort. In 2021, the state lawmaker said that “God is nonbinary,” a statement that is off-putting to some Christians, not because they believe that God is literally a man but because they can’t fathom why someone would drag God into the earthly debate over gender identity. Talarico has also said that there are six biological sexes and that he supports access to abortion, in part, because God asked for consent when he blessed Mary with the baby Jesus. As a candidate in 2022, he pledged to run a “non-meat campaign,” which was never going to play well in cattle country.

Lately, Talarico has been doing some backtracking. “I know there are two sexes, men and women. I also know there’s a very small percentage of people who have these chromosomal abnormalities, and I believe they deserve to be treated with dignity and respect,” he told CBS this week, adding that there are “some statements that I’ve made that I certainly regret.” Whenever Talarico is accused of being insufficiently pro-meat, his campaign circulates a photo of the candidate gnawing on a turkey leg at the state fair.

Still, both sides have heaps of material to work with. Which is why the next few months promise a total inundation of negative advertising online, and on the airwaves in Texas. Democrats will hammer into voters Paxton’s scandals—and the failures of Republican leadership. “Will Republicans get away with running a superficial attack campaign when Texans are really hurting?” Matt Angle, a state Democratic strategist, told me. “They’ve been in control for 30 years. If something’s broke, they broke it.” Meanwhile, Republicans are already parroting Paxton’s proposed “Tala-freako” and “Low-T Talarico” nicknames. This morning, the Trump adviser Stephen Miller wrote on X that Democrats have nominated their “first transgender senate candidate.” (Talarico is not transgender.) “We have not seen ugly yet,” Vinny Minchillo, a Texas Republican strategist, told me. They’re going to make Talarico “the woke DEI candidate of all woke DEI candidates. And pound him, pound him, pound him.”

The task ahead will be tough for Talarico, who will have to decide when to counter these attacks directly—Define thyself lest ye be defined, as the political maxim goes—and when to remain firmly astride his moral high horse. He will also have to fend off the unprecedented amounts of money that Republicans are pumping into the race in order to protect their fragile Senate majority. Already, Paxton has secured the backing of the National Republican Senatorial Committee, which initially endorsed Cornyn and which, last night, dutifully scrubbed its website of all anti-Paxton press releases and ads.

Yet for Talarico, hope remains. No Texan needs reminding that inflation is high, or that the war in Iran has the whole world on edge and gas prices rising. Trump’s polling is bad, and among Texans, Talarico has higher favorability numbers than both Paxton and the president. In what might end up being a particularly good year for Democrats, victory is not only possible but achievable.

Still, if Democrats have done one thing well in Texas over the past 30 years, it’s dash hopes. The last time a Democrat came close to winning statewide in Texas was in 2018. Back then, Senator Ted Cruz beat Beto O’Rourke by roughly 215,000 votes. This time, the figure that Republicans have their eye on is 778,139, or the number of Texans who voted in the March GOP primary but who were not excited enough about either Republican candidate to vote in the runoff. A drop in turnout was expected. But a 36 percent decline “mirrors a lack of Republican enthusiasm we’ve seen in other states,” Minchillo said. For Texas Republicans, that number is “distressing.”

Last night on Truth Social, Trump congratulated Paxton and promised to hold a few rallies to help gin up some excitement. “Texas, this will be FUN!” the president teased. We’ll see.

Monday, December 01, 2025

Paxton’s Attack on Jolt Echoes a Long History of Silencing Latino Political Power, by Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.

Paxton’s Attack on Jolt Echoes a Long History of Silencing Latino Political Power

by

Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.
December 1, 2025

While I do not pretend to know the particulars beyond what has been reported by Nguyen and Klibanoff in the Express-News (2025), the effort by Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton to shut down the Jolt initiative—one of the state’s most effective Latino civic-engagement organizations—most certainly fits into a well-established pattern. It echoes a long Texas history of suppressing Latino political power through intimidation, manufactured crises, and the selective use of state authority.

To truly understand this moment, we must see it in its historical and decolonial context. For well over a century, Texas has deployed legal, political, and bureaucratic tools to police and shrink the political power of Latino communities. From poll taxes, white primaries, English-only ballots to literacy tests, voter purges, and now “election integrity” scare tactics, the state has continuously reengineered the political landscape to maintain racial hierarchy.

Today’s version of that old project further includes gerrymandering—most notably the failed attempt, under pressure from Donald Trump, to draw five new congressional districts designed to dilute rising Latino voting power and secure permanent Republican control. That map was ultimately too extreme even for Texas courts, but the message was unmistakable: Latino political participation is to be contained, not cultivated (Guo, 2025).

Paxton’s attack on Jolt follows the same logic. It stems from a thoroughly debunked 2024 social-media rumor alleging that migrants were being registered to vote at driver’s license offices in North Texas—a claim that local officials, including Republican leaders, dismissed outright. Yet Paxton seized on this fiction to launch an intrusive investigation into groups working primarily with Latino voters.

When his initial efforts faltered in court, Paxton simply pivoted, filing a new lawsuit accusing Jolt of orchestrating an “unlawful voter registration scheme,” despite providing no evidence of noncitizen voting. Instead, he targets the organization for conducting voter registration drives at DMV locations—community hubs where working-class Latinos naturally gather. In a telling distortion of Texas election law, he now frames a volunteer’s explanation of the parent-agent provision as evidence of wrongdoing.

The point is intimidation, not truth.

Taken together, these actions reveal a disturbing theory of democracy: Latino civic participation is inherently suspect, and any infrastructure that supports it must be dismantled. Whether through extreme gerrymanders designed to nullify Latino voting strength, or legal assaults on organizations registering Latino youth, the goal is the same—maintain political power by shrinking the electorate.

A decolonial lens makes this continuity visible. Latino civic organizations like Jolt are not just registering voters; they are challenging a longstanding colonial logic that extracts labor while denying civic belonging. When young Latinos organize, vote, and assert political agency, they interrupt the racial order Texas has spent generations protecting. That is the disruption Paxton is attempting to crush.

And this is not new. Texas officials have repeatedly equated Latino civic engagement with disorder or fraud, from the surveillance of Chicano activists in the late 1960s and early 1970s (Contreras, 2025) to the recent attempt to shut down El Paso’s Annunciation House (see Paxton v. Annunciation House, Inc. 2025). Each episode follows the same pattern: when Latinos build power, the state responds by declaring that power illegitimate.

see Contreras (2025)

Jolt is simply the latest target.

That said, it surely concerns the political establishment that approximately 200,000 Latina and Latino youth in Texas turn 18 every year (as Jolt notes on its webpage). This rising generation of Gen Z voters represents a profound demographic shift—one that makes efforts to suppress Latino civic engagement not only predictable, but deeply revealing of the racialized anxieties driving state power.

The lawsuit against Jolt is not about voter fraud—it is about fear. It is about a political establishment that recognizes the demographic reality of Texas and is scrambling to freeze the electorate in place. It is about denying young Latinos the tools they need to participate in public life. It is, at its core, an attempt to preserve a political order that can no longer command the consent of a changing population.

Texas cannot claim to be a democracy while treating the political participation of its largest communities of color as a threat to be neutralized. Jolt’s resistance is not only a legal fight—it is an act of collective self-determination. It affirms what generations of activists, elders, and organizers before us have insisted: we belong here, our voices matter, and our political engagement strengthens, rather than threatens, the fabric of this state. We need and deserve organizations like Jolt that do the essential work of cultivating young leaders, expanding civic participation, and ensuring that Latino communities can exercise the full rights of citizenship. To defend Jolt is to defend democracy itself.

The struggle for Latino political power in Texas is far from over, but the outcome of this case will say much about who this state believes democracy is for.

Reference

Contreras, R. (2025, January 6). Scoop: CIA releases docs on Latino civil-rights-era surveillanceAxioshttps://www.axios.com/2025/01/06/cia-releases-docs-latino-civil-rights-era-surveillance?utm_source=chatgpt.com

Guo, K. (2025, July 10). As Texas Republicans prepare for mid-decade redistricting, cautionary tales loom from the pastTexas Tribune. https://www.texastribune.org/2025/07/10/texas-redistricting-congressional-districts-past-mistakes-overreach/?utm_source=chatgpt.com

Nguyen, A., & Klibanoff, E. (2025, November 11). Texas Latino civic group sues to block AG Ken Paxton from shutting it down. San Antonio Express-Newshttps://www.expressnews.com/news/article/texas-latino-civic-group-sues-to-block-ag-ken-21163598.php

Paxton v. Annunciation House, Inc., No. 24-0573 (Tex. Sup. Ct. May 30, 2025). https://law.justia.com/cases/texas/supreme-court/2025/24-0573.html


By ,Nov 11, 2025



Jolt Initiative, a nonprofit that aims to increase civic participation among Latinos, is suing Texas Attorney General 
Ken Paxton to block his efforts to shut them down. Paxton announced Monday that he was seeking to revoke the nonprofit’s charter, alleging that the group had orchestrated “a systematic, unlawful voter registration scheme.”

This is not the first legal back-and-forth between Jolt and Paxton’s office. Last year, the organization successfully sued to stop the state’s investigation into their voter registration efforts. In the new suit, Jolt’s lawyers argue Paxton’s efforts to shut them down are retaliation. The attorney general’s office has also in recent years targeted other organizations aiding Latinos and migrants, such as the effort to investigate and shut down El Paso-based Annunciation House.

Tuesday, September 23, 2025

Third lawsuit filed against display of Ten Commandments in schools

Friends:

Attorney General Paxton’s claim distorts both history and constitutional principle. While the Ten Commandments in the Bible are part of the religious heritage of many, America’s legal and civic foundation rests not on a single faith tradition but on Enlightenment ideas, English common law, and a deliberate commitment to religious liberty.

Many of the framers themselves descended from those who fled religious persecution in Europe. From this history, they understood that a republic could only survive if it safeguarded freedom of conscience against state-imposed faith—an understanding that was ultimately enshrined in the First Amendment’s guarantee that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.”

In drafting the Constitution, the framers explicitly rejected the establishment of any religion as the basis for government, ensuring that all faiths—and those with none—could belong equally. To insist, as Paxton does, that the Ten Commandments are the cornerstone of American law is to erase the pluralism that has defined this country from the start and to undermine the very protections of the First Amendment. 
It is, in effect, a rewriting of history that asks the public to ignore the evidence before their very eyes.

This is why the third lawsuit filed against the Ten Commandments classroom display law is so significant. As Austin American-Statesman education reporter Keri Heath documents, fifteen families representing a variety of faith backgrounds—including Christian, Jewish, Lutheran, and nonreligious—have joined together to challenge Senate Bill 10 in federal court. Their action underscores that Paxton’s directive is not only constitutionally dubious but also deeply out of step with the diverse religious and civic traditions that make up Texas and the nation.

-Angela Valenzuela

By Staff Writer


A third lawsuit has been filed against school districts over a new state law requiring the placement of the Ten Commandments in school classrooms. / Jay Janner/Austin American-Statesman


A group of families on Monday filed a third lawsuit against a batch of school districts over a law requiring the placement of the Ten Commandments in Texas classrooms. The 14 school districts, which include Georgetown and Comal, are among several dozen that have been sued over the law since Gov. Greg Abbott signed it in June.


The lawsuit also comes about a month after Attorney General Ken Paxton sent a memo to superintendents reinforcing that districts should display posters depicting the 10 Commandments, despite a federal judge temporarily blocking the law for a handful of districts.


The lawsuit also includes the Conroe, Flour Bluff, Fort Worth, Arlington, McKinney, Frisco, Northwest, Azle, Rockwall, Lovejoy, Mansfield and McAllen school districts. All of the districts listed in the lawsuit either received or already posted donated posters depicting the Ten Commandments, according to the lawsuit. 


The new lawsuit was filed in the U.S. Western District Court of Texas by 15 families of students in the named districts. The families are of a variety of faith backgrounds, including Christian, Jewish, Lutheran and nonreligious, according to the lawsuit.


“I address questions about God and faith with great care, and I emphatically reject the notion that the state would do this for me,” said Rev. Kristin Klade, a Lutheran pastor who lives in Fort Worth.


Authored by Sen. Phil King, R-Weatherford, Senate Bill 10 requires that school districts post any donated copies of a specific version of the Ten Commandments in public school classrooms.


The lawsuit filed Monday is the third sparked by SB 10. In June, parents brought a lawsuit against three districts and the Texas Education Agency. In July, additional families brought a lawsuit against 11 other districts. 


A federal judge temporarily blocked the law for the 11 districts last month, prompting Paxton to issue instructions directing every other district in the state to abide by SB 10.


“From the beginning, the Ten Commandments have been irrevocably intertwined with America’s legal, moral, and historical heritage,” Paxton said in a statement when he issued the directive.


That July lawsuit included the Lake Travis and Dripping Springs districts. The Austin school district was eventually dismissed from the case as long as it adhered to any injunction the court placed.


K-12 EDUCATION REPORTER

Friday, June 06, 2025

A State's Betrayal: The Dismantling of In-State Tuition for Undocumented Students in Texas, by Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.

A State's Betrayal: The Dismantling of In-State Tuition for Undocumented Students in Texas

by 

Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.


CreditJUNE 4, 2025

I am deeply troubled—heartbroken, really—by the news that undocumented students in Texas are no longer eligible for in-state tuition (Klibanoff & Priest, 2025; Vertuno & Lathan, 2025). As someone who was directly involved in the development of this policy—House Bill 1403 in 2001—I see this decision as a moral and political failure of staggering proportions.

These young people are Texans. They’ve grown up here, gone to our public schools, and graduated from our high schools. They have signed affidavits pledging to regularize their status when eligible, just for the chance to pursue higher education. And now, with the stroke of a judge’s pen and a state attorney general who refused to defend a 24-year-old law, we are telling them they don’t belong. That they are undeserving. That their dreams, their labor, and their humanity mean nothing. It is cruel. It is shortsighted. And it is indefensible.

What makes this even more disturbing is the false narrative being pushed by officials like U.S. Attorney General Pam Bondi, who claimed the ruling was necessary to prevent U.S. citizens from being treated like “second-class citizens.” This is a blatant distortion of the truth. In-state tuition for undocumented students does not displace or disadvantage U.S. citizens in any way. 

These students are not receiving a “benefit” that others are denied; they are paying the same tuition as any other Texas resident under a law that has been in place for nearly a quarter-century. No student loses access to college because another is granted a fair shot. To suggest otherwise is to weaponize resentment and obscure the real aim: to exclude, to punish, and to stoke division.

This isn’t just about tuition. It’s about dignity. It’s about who counts, and who doesn’t. The message Texas is sending is one of rejection and disposability. These students, many of whom I’ve known and worked with over the years, are being told their futures don’t matter—not because they’ve failed, but because our political leaders have. This is a textbook case of what I call subtractive schooling—a system that strips away the identities, languages, and aspirations of immigrant youth rather than nurturing and investing in them (Valenzuela, 1999).

And this decision is unfolding within a broader landscape of racialized rhetoric and exclusionary policymaking, where terms like “illegal alien” and “second-class citizen” are deliberately deployed to divide, dehumanize, and distract. The same forces behind the dismantling of DEI, the silencing of Ethnic Studies, the whitewashing of curriculum, and the whitening of Texas colleges and universities are at work here. This isn’t about law and order—it’s about fear of the “other” and the ruthless and hateful exercise of power. 

Let me be clear: this decision isn’t just morally wrong—it’s economically reckless. By stripping undocumented students of access to in-state tuition, Texas isn’t saving money—it’s sabotaging its own future.

Each year, approximately 20,000 undocumented students attend Texas public colleges and universities, collectively paying over $81 million in tuition and fees (Every Texan, 2021). Denying them in-state rates will price many out of higher education entirely. And when enrollment drops, institutions lose the tuition revenue they’ve come to rely on. This loss will hit smaller colleges and regional universities especially hard, exacerbating existing financial strains.

Beyond tuition, higher education is one of the strongest predictors of lifetime earnings and tax contributions. When we deny these students access to college, we also deny the state the economic returns their education would generate. According to the American Immigration Council (2023), rescinding in-state tuition for undocumented students could cost Texas more than $460 million each year in lost wages and spending power. That’s money that won’t be earned, taxed, or spent in our communities.

These students have contributed millions in tuition and gone on to fill critical shortages in fields like education and health care (Klibanoff & Priest, 2025). There are broader ripple effects, too. Without access to higher education, many of these young people will be forced into underemployment or informal labor markets, where they are more vulnerable to exploitation and less able to contribute meaningfully to the economy (Flores, 2010).

Removing their access to higher education undermines not just their futures, but all of ours. And the way it was done—through a backdoor legal maneuver with no real public debate—is an affront to democratic process. This is not leadership. This is cowardice wrapped in legal armor.

But we cannot afford to stay in despair. We must act—boldly, strategically, and in community. This is a moral emergency, and it demands a coordinated, collective response. First, we must continue to come together to build a statewide coalition for immigrant student justice. Students, families, educators, advocacy groups, faith leaders—everyday Texans—must unite in defense of these young people and what they represent. This is a fight for the soul of our state.

We must also pursue every legal pathway available. If the state won’t defend these students, others must. Independent legal challenges, amicus briefs, alliances with organizations like LULAC, MALDEF and the Texas Civil Rights Project—all of these are essential to challenging this ruling in the courts and in the court of public opinion.

At the same time, our colleges and universities must step up. If public dollars are constrained, then institutions must find other ways—private scholarships, emergency funds, tuition relief from unrestricted accounts—to keep undocumented students enrolled and supported. They must show moral courage and commit to student-centered leadership.

Equally important is the work of storytelling. We need to flood the public sphere with the voices of students who have benefited from in-state tuition—those who stayed in Texas, who became teachers, nurses, engineers, and leaders in their communities. These are not abstractions. These are real lives. And the public needs to hear their stories now more than ever.

We also need to look to policy solutions at every level. If Texas has abandoned its responsibility, then cities, counties, and the federal government must act. We need local sanctuary funding, and we need national legislation—starting with the long-overdue passage of a clean DREAM Act. Texas may have failed these students, but we do not have to.

Above all, we must center the students themselves. Their leadership, their voices, and their resilience will guide the way forward. We can support them through teach-ins, legal clinics, wellness resources, and organizing spaces that affirm their power. We must remind them—and ourselves—that they are not alone. They belong. And we will fight for them.

This moment is painful. It is infuriating. However, it is also a call to action. I still believe in the power of people to change the course of history. Above all, we must empower undocumented students themselves to lead this fight. They belong here. Their voices matter. And their dreams are worth defending.

I still believe that Texas can be a place of hope, not fear—a place where every student, regardless of immigration status, has the right to learn, to thrive, and to dream.