After Colleges Reject ‘Compact,’ Trump Officials Try a Letter, by Michael C. Bender and Alan Blinder, New York Times

Friends,

As covered by New York Times columnists, Michael C. Bender and Alan Blinder this letter from Secretary of Education Linda McMahon has to be understood in context.

The U.S. Department of Education's recent open letter inviting colleges and universities to restore public confidence through greater transparency, public commitments, and institutional self-assessment arrives wrapped in the language of partnership. On its face, few would object to these aspirations. Public universities exist to serve the public, and they should always be prepared to explain how they fulfill that mission.

The difficulty lies not in the request but in the vexed history that precedes it.

Trust is built through consistency between words and actions. Over the past several years, colleges and universities have confronted an unprecedented campaign of political intervention into higher education. 

Institutions have faced investigations, funding suspensions, threats to academic programs, restrictions on faculty governance, and efforts to influence what may be taught, researched, or discussed. Most notably, the administration's earlier proposal for a "Compact" with higher education sought to link federal research funding to ideological commitments that many universities concluded would compromise their independence. The overwhelming rejection of that proposal reflected a broad consensus that public accountability must never become political allegiance.

Against this backdrop, an open letter requesting voluntary declarations of institutional commitments cannot be viewed in isolation. It inevitably raises questions about purpose and intent. When trust has already been weakened by repeated attempts to expand political oversight of higher education, requests for public affirmations may reasonably be viewed with caution rather than confidence.

The issue extends beyond any single administration. It concerns the fundamental relationship between democratic government and institutions of higher learning. Universities are accountable to the public, but they are not extensions of the state. Their legitimacy depends upon their capacity to pursue knowledge wherever the evidence leads, to cultivate intellectual diversity rather than ideological conformity, and to protect inquiry from political pressure regardless of its source.

This distinction is especially important today. Throughout American history, periods of political polarization have often produced demands that universities align themselves with prevailing political agendas. Yet higher education serves democracy best when it maintains sufficient independence to question prevailing orthodoxies—including those advanced by government itself. Academic freedom, institutional autonomy, and shared governance were developed precisely to preserve that independence.

None of this suggests that universities are beyond criticism. Higher education has legitimate shortcomings that deserve serious public discussion, including affordability, student debt, public accessibility, governance, and the need to strengthen public confidence. Universities should welcome thoughtful critique and remain open to reform. 

But reform, my friends, loses its legitimacy when it becomes inseparable from efforts to centralize political authority over curriculum, research, hiring, admissions, or campus life.

Trust, therefore, cannot be restored through carefully worded letters or symbolic gestures. It emerges gradually through reciprocal respect. Government demonstrates its trustworthiness by honoring constitutional principles, protecting due process, respecting institutional independence, and refraining from using public resources to reward political compliance or punish dissent. Universities demonstrate theirs through openness, accountability, rigorous scholarship, and faithful service to the public.

Trust must move in both directions. Until governmental actions consistently reflect respect for the autonomy of America's colleges and universities, skepticism is not evidence of institutional obstinacy. It is a rational response born of recent experience and a necessary safeguard for the democratic—and democratizing—purposes that higher education was created to serve.

-Angela Valenzuela

After Colleges Reject ‘Compact,’ Trump Officials Try a Letter

By Michael C. Bender and Alan Blinder

August 3, 2026 | New York Times

The open letter from Education Secretary Linda McMahon fell far short of the attempt at a compact last year that dangled research money in return for embracing the Trump administration’s agenda.
Linda McMahon, the education secretary, signed the letter that asks every postsecondary institution in the nation to publicly state its commitments and planned changes “before the end of 2026.”Credit...
Tierney L. Cross/The New York Times

The Trump administration is making another push to persuade university leaders to address policies that it says have eroded trust with the American public, sending an open letter on Monday to college leaders asking them to respond to concerns over academic standards, admissions procedures and tuition costs.

The letter, signed by Education Secretary Linda McMahon, is a significant departure from an attempt last year to incentivize universities with a so-called compact that dangled easier access to research funding for schools that embraced the administration’s agenda. That proposal was widely rejected.

This time, the administration is not proposing any new legal or regulatory mandates and avoids any specific requests for eliminating protections for transgender students. Instead, Ms. McMahon asks every postsecondary institution in the nation to publicly state its commitments and planned changes “before the end of 2026.”

University presidents and governing boards are asked to address seven subjects — including free speech, foreign influence, artificial intelligence and academic rigor — and post the statements prominently on their websites.

Ms. McMahon’s letter, which does not include any funding threats, suggests that changes will improve academia’s reputation among American parents and students.

“The dilution of academic standards, opaque admissions policies and a domineering monoculture have badly eroded public trust,” she wrote, adding that “only full candor and transparency can begin to strengthen the bonds between higher education and the American people.”

It was not immediately clear how the nation’s thousands of colleges and universities would respond to Ms. McMahon’s letter. But Ted Mitchell, the president of the American Council on Education, which was not involved in talks with the government before the letter’s release, said he regarded the missive as “a tentative handshake” between the administration and academic institutions. He predicted a significant response.

“For many institutions, this is kind of a no-brainer — it’s a fill-in-the-blanks kind of thing if they want to do it,” said Dr. Mitchell, who noted that many of the topics Ms. McMahon asked schools to discuss had already been subjects of immense debate among education leaders.

Barbara R. Snyder, the president of the Association of American Universities, said she had engaged with administration officials before the missive’s release on Monday. She was joined in the discussions by the chairman of the group’s board, Chancellor Douglas A. Girod of the University of Kansas, and the board’s vice chairman, President Ronald J. Daniels of Johns Hopkins University.

In an interview, Ms. Snyder said that the three had “approached this opportunity in good faith” and that she believed the discussions could advance “a working relationship with the government.”

Ms. Snyder said she had communicated a four-word mantra to administration officials: “No carrots, no sticks.”

The new push comes about 10 months after administration officials, including Ms. McMahon, proposed a compact to try to pull schools into ideological alignment. The document called for, among other conditions, a cap on international enrollment; a tuition freeze; and consideration of “transforming or abolishing institutional units that purposefully punish, belittle and even spark violence against conservative ideas.”

It also called for institutions to pledge to adhere to the administration’s preferred definitions around biological sex. And it encouraged policies to “recognize that academic freedom is not absolute, and universities shall adopt policies that prevent discriminatory, threatening, harassing or other behaviors that abridge the rights of other members of the university community.”

But the effort collapsed after many of the schools the White House handpicked for feedback on the idea condemned the proposal in scathing terms.

A central grievance was the administration’s suggestion that it would give schools preferential treatment for federal funding in exchange for backing the compact’s ideas. That proposal collided with generations of history, practice and competition among universities to secure funding on the basis of merit. And since the idea emerged months after the administration sought to choke off billions in money to schools it disfavored, it deepened fears that the White House was eager to trade largess for loyalty.

The compact envisioned stiff financial penalties, such as the reimbursement of “all monies advanced by the U.S. government during the year of any violation,” for any participating university that the Justice Department alone deemed out of compliance.

Although a handful of small institutions volunteered to sign, only one of the name-brand schools that the government initially asked for feedback — the University of Texas — was sweepingly enthusiastic. Most others, in public and in private, sounded notes like Sally Kornbluth, M.I.T.’s president, who warned that the proposal included ideas “that would restrict freedom of expression and our independence as an institution.”

Confronted with rare, largely united resistance from higher education leaders, the administration backed down, and its ambitions for a celebratory event in the autumn faded. Administration officials insisted at the time that they were not surrendering on the idea of a reworked compact.

They also began inserting some ideas into policy. The State Department, for example, started prioritizing visa requests for students at schools that were under a 15 percent cap on international students enrolled in undergraduate classes that the compact had envisioned.

But Dr. Mitchell said he was pleased by “the change in tone” that Monday’s letter seemed to suggest. “It’s much less pugilistic than many things that have come out of this administration,” he said. “I think that it identifies several important positive principles — and it calls out a couple of things that we know we need to do better.”


Michael C. Bender is a Times correspondent in Washington.


Alan Blinder is a national correspondent for The Times, covering education.

This story helps explain why Ethnic Studies is such a potentially life-saving intervention. If we could only systematize this, schools, boarding schools, colleges, and universities would be more welcoming places.  Thanks to Dr. Tony Baez for sharing.

-Angela Valenzuela

I Was ‘Too Much’ for Boarding School. But I Had the Garcia Sisters.

Reading books by Latina writers taught me 

our stories were worthy of being told.

“Jump Rope (Vanessa in Blue Shorts).” The author and her family at Palmetto Street in Bushwick, Brooklyn, in June 1983.Credit...Meryl Meisler

• Nov. 30, 2019

By Vanessa Mártir

Ms. Mártir is a novelist.

I grew up in Bushwick, Brooklyn, in the 1980s, in what felt like a forgotten neighborhood. Abandoned buildings loomed over piles of garbage and rubble. Playgrounds were overrun by drug dealers. But for me, Bushwick was a place imbued with my culture. There were piragua carts with multicolored umbrellas selling shaved ice on every corner. The bodeguero Miguel gave my mother credit when our food stamps ran out. The Puerto Rican flag hung from almost every window.

My mother migrated from Honduras to New York in 1971. When I was 2 years old my mother met and fell in love with another woman, Millie, which was then widely considered taboo. Two years later we all moved into a two-bedroom railroad-style apartment. The paint cracked and peeled off the walls, but we always had food on the table, even if it was white rice, fried eggs and canned corned beef. I spent most of my time then in our backyard, climbing the plum tree and telling myself stories.

My life took a turn at 13 when my social studies teacher saw promise in me and suggested I take part in A Better Chance, a program that places low-income minority students in top schools around the country. I applied and was offered a four-year scholarship to attend a boarding-school-type program at Wellesley High School in Massachusetts.

Millie’s brother drove me to school in a beat-up blue Pentecostal church van. I remember gazing out the window in awe as gorgeous mansions with perfect manicured lawns came into view. I moved into a four-story house with other students complete with a study and fireplace. It felt like I was living in an episode of The Facts of Life.

But I soon realized that I was different. My guidance counselor would often pull me aside and tell me I was “too loud” and “too much.” My classmates would chant “Tawk, Rosie, tawk!” as I’d walk down the hallways, my eyes glued to the ground. Rosie Perez as Tina in the 1989 film “Do The Right Thing” was the only exposure to a Latina many of my classmates had ever had.

Growing up, I’d read the “Sweet Valley High" series, Encyclopedia Brown mysteries and all the Judy Blume books. The characters in them didn’t look like me, but I was too young to understand the difference or know it could matter. One day in my junior year, I was reading on the mezzanine overlooking the cafeteria, when my English professor, Mr. Goddard, approached me. “You should read this,” he said and handed me “How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents.” My eyes stopped at the writer’s name, Julia Alvarez. “That’s a Spanish name,” I thought.

I saw myself reflected in the story of the Garcia sisters, who had fled to the United States from the Dominican Republic with their parents. They went to boarding school and, like me, had trouble fitting in. It began to dawn on me that there must be other writers like Ms. Alvarez out there. I asked teachers for recommendations and dug through the library shelves on campus.

Later I would discover the work of Gloria Anzaldúa, Cherríe Moraga, Sandra Cisneros. What was missing for me was the narrative of the Latina who left the ’hood to pursue an education only to find that she no longer fit in anywhere. I was too loud at boarding school and a sellout in the place I had once called home.

For years I’d chronicle my joys and heartbreaks in journals and scribble down poems on napkins at bars. On weekends I’d go to the Nuyorican Poets Cafe. I was in awe of the poets who read their work aloud. I longed to be that brave. I was the only one of my siblings to graduate from college. That distinction came with the expectation that I’d get a job that offered a steady paycheck and a 401(k).

When I learned I was pregnant in 2003, something inside me shifted. I wanted my daughter to learn by watching her mamá that she could live out her dreams. I dusted off my journals and wrote throughout my pregnancy. My first novel, “A Woman’s Cry,” was published in 2007, three years after she was born. After my novel was published I sought out other writers of color. At last I found a place where I felt I belonged.

My mother still lives in the same apartment in Bushwick. The neighborhood is no longer reminiscent of a war zone. Children and families gather in the parks we had never dared to step into. The piragueros are all but gone. The Puerto Rican flag isn’t as prominent as it used to be. The neighborhood I knew has mostly faded out of view.

Reading books by Latina writers helped me recapture a pride in my culture that goes beyond my old neighborhood. They taught me that these gritty corners of the world can be beautiful. That our stories are worthy of being told.

I buy my daughter, who is now 15 years old, books by writers like Elizabeth Acevedo, Jacqueline Woodson and Gabby Rivera. I teach writing in neighborhoods like the one I grew up in. I know from experience that when children see positive images of themselves reflected in front of the classroom, in books and on the big screen, it can make all the difference. This is how change happens, and it’s how we create a country in which all of us feel we belong. One story at a time.

Vanessa Mártir (@Vanessa_LaLoba), a writer and educator, is the founder of the Writing Our Lives Workshop.

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