This blog on Texas education contains posts on higher education, as well as preK-12 policy accountability, testing, bilingual education, immigration, school finance, race, class, and gender issues at both the state and national level. It also represents my digital footprint, of life and career, as a community-engaged scholar in Texas.
The Creighton Memoranda: Political Control of the Curriculum Comes to Texas Tech
by
Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.
July 16, 2026
What is happening within the Texas Tech University System is not an ordinary curriculum review. It is an extraordinary transfer of authority over teaching from faculty members and established academic bodies to a chancellor and politically appointed board of regents.
The “Creighton Memoranda” refer to two directives issued by Texas Tech University System Chancellor Brandon Creighton—one on December 1, 2025, and another on April 9, 2026. The first established a systemwide process requiring professors to disclose course materials involving race, sex, sexual orientation, or gender identity and to withhold flagged material while it underwent administrative and regental review.
The second went further, ordering the phaseout of academic programs “centered on” sexual orientation or gender identity, restricting such content in core and lower-level undergraduate courses, and requiring alternative materials in many instances. These directives apply across the five-institution Texas Tech system, including its universities and health sciences centers.
The consequences are neither abstract nor confined to a handful of controversial courses.
According to a federal complaint filed against Creighton and the Texas Tech Board of Regents, faculty members have been prevented or discouraged from teaching Plato’s Republic, Ta-Nehisi Coates’s Between the World and Me, the racial history of Dred Scott v. Sandford, and the persecution of gay and bisexual people during the Holocaust. Professors have reportedly been asked to remove words such as “systemic” and “disparity” from course materials.
Medical educators allege that restrictions have also interfered with teaching students how to understand health disparities and provide competent care to transgender patients and other historically underserved populations.
This is the harm produced when vague political directives replace disciplinary expertise. Faculty members do not know with confidence what they may teach, what language they may use, or whether material approved in one department will be rejected in another.
Because noncompliance can carry the threat of discipline or even termination, the predictable result is over-compliance and self-censorship.
Professors remove more than the policy may technically require simply to protect their employment. Students, in turn, receive an incomplete education—one filtered not by the standards of history, medicine, law, literature, or philosophy, but by the ideological preferences of those presently holding institutional power.
On July 8, 2026, the American Association of University Professors and its Texas affiliate, Texas AAUP-AFT, filed suit in federal court seeking to stop the memoranda’s enforcement.
The lawsuit advances three central constitutional claims:
First, that the policies discriminate against disfavored viewpoints in violation of the First Amendment;
Second, that their confusing and inconsistent language denies faculty due process under the Fourteenth Amendment; and
Third, that their design and implementation intentionally discriminate against Black faculty by disproportionately suppressing scholarship about Black history, racism, racial inequality, and efforts to remedy it. The plaintiffs are asking the court to declare the memoranda unconstitutional and permanently prevent Texas Tech officials from enforcing them or similar restrictions (Priest, 2026).
Texas Tech officials deny the lawsuit’s allegations and maintain that the directives protect academic integrity, comply with the law, and permit the teaching of historical events and incidental references to sexual orientation or gender identity. But those assurances do not resolve the fundamental problem documented in the complaint: faculty members are already changing courses, removing scholarship, and withholding instruction because they cannot reliably determine what those in power will permit (Priest, 2026).
This case therefore reaches far beyond Texas Tech. At stake is whether public universities will remain places where qualified scholars pursue evidence, confront difficult histories, and prepare students for the world as it exists—or whether university teaching will become a compliance exercise in which political officials decide which facts, identities, books, and bodies of knowledge may enter the classroom.
Texas American Association of University Professors–American Federation of Teachers v. Creighton, No. 3:26-cv-01845 (W.D. Tex. July 8, 2026) (complaint).
What’s unfolding at Texas A&M University is a sobering sign of how academic freedom is being hollowed out in Texas. After Dr. Leonard Bright spoke publicly against the censorship of Plato’sSymposium, his own long-standing graduate course was abruptly cancelled, with administrators framing the move as a warning about “process” and accreditation. Under new system rules requiring administrative approval of syllabi, education is being reduced to the bare minimum, while faculty are chilled into silence and students are denied the full value of their education. As faculty and students warned at a recent press conference, when universities punish open inquiry and censor core texts, they don’t protect rigor or neutrality—they diminish the credibility and actual value of their expensive degrees and the democratic mission of public higher education itself.
So proud that they still protested all this extremist nonsense.
Publish Date: January 23, 2026 12:54 pm Author: Texas AFT
Dr. Leonard Bright, the president of the Texas A&M (TAMU) College Station AAUP chapter, spoke publicly against the censorship of Plato in philosophy class. Two days later, his own class was cancelled – and he found out via an email sent to the entire Bush School of Government & Public Affairs. The dean specifically named professor Bright in an email to his colleagues and used the course cancellation as a warning about following university processes. TAMU System’s Policy 08.01, which came into effect in December 2025, subjects all syllabi to review and approval by system administrators. This course review led to the censorship of Plato’s Symposium in Dr. Martin Peterson’s intro-level philosophy class for the reading’s discussion of love and biological sexes. As the TAMU AAUP-AFT chapter president, Dr. Bright has been leading the conversation against censorship at the university.
Dr. Bright has taught his graduate-level class, “Ethics of Public Policy,” for six years– the syllabus for which has largely remained unchanged each year. His syllabus this year even included a statement clarifying the types of discussion the class is expected to have: “Students are not expected to agree with the instructor’s perspectives, and respectful disagreement and critical engagement are explicitly welcomed and encouraged.” Lori Taylor, the head of the department of public service and administration, asked professor Bright to justify his course content on whether “professionals in the field are required to know the information” or if “the content is necessary for accreditation.”
Dr. Bright says he uses “case studies, theories, and current events to explore ethical dilemmas faced by public servants whom he believes should be aware of their blind spots.” Coursework and discussions outside of accreditation requirements are what makes academic programs competitive: will students have the opportunity to deepen their knowledge of the field beyond the bare minimum? Will students enter an increasingly competitive workforce with the skills and social intelligence to set them apart from the hundreds of other graduates applying for the same jobs? When a world-class university like Texas A&M lowers its educational standards to merely “is it required for accreditation?” it is no longer a prestigious institution and instead has set itself on a path to becoming a degree-mill.
Faculty and students at press conference at TAMU, January 22.
Dr. Leonard Bright speaking.
Faculty and students want better for their school. Yesterday, Texas AAUP-AFT joined with the TAMU chapter of MOVE Texas in a press conference to condemn course cancellations and attacks on academic freedom. Speakers included Dr. Joan Wolf, associate professor of sociology, Dr. Bright, Dr. Peterson, Vice President of the A&M chapter of MOVE Texas Robert Day and sociology undergraduate student Leah Tolan. As the leaders spoke, a crowd gathered around to listen to their statements.
“We are being laughed at in the rest of the world. No one takes Texas A&M seriously anymore. Degrees, your degrees, the thing that you pay lots of money for, will not have the same value because you are being censored.” – Dr. Joan Wolf
Student speakers emphasized the cheapening of their education. Robert Day, a junior civil engineering student, says “The promise of college, and the promise of learning freely without fear is taken away. I wasn’t the only student that was promised to.” Leah Tolan says “We deserve the education we are investing our money in. Students are left without the tools to understand real-world issues that they will inevitably encounter beyond the classroom.”
Professor Peterson noted that it is becoming more difficult to recruit faculty: “The first question we get from candidates has to do with academic freedom. It’s not easy to recruit when candidates are scared.”
“We have families to feed and mortgages to pay. We don’t have the privilege to change jobs. We do this job because we care about civil discourse,” said Dr. Wolf.
Dr. Bright closed out the press conference with demands to the TAMU system: “Today we demand that Texas A&M ends classroom censorship immediately, restore academic freedom to the faculty, reinstate improperly cancelled courses, let Plato out of his cage, guarantee truthful, rigorous education for our students, end all retaliation against faculty who refuse to voluntarily censor their courses, return circular authority back to the educators, back to the experts, to the faculty, protect the value in credibility of Texas A&M’s degrees and reaffirm its commitment to all of Texans.”
I recently posted on this topic of faculty departure covered by Olivia Empson in The Guardian.Both address the same finding that roughly a quarter of respondents have already applied for jobs elsewhere since the start of 2023, with another quarter intending to begin a search (Evans & Heinzelman, 2024; also note a similar trend in the "2025 Faculty in the South" survey for faculty in Texas (AAUP, 2025).
This is not just a statistic—it is the lived reality of colleagues, friends, and students across our campuses.
Take the example of Heather Houser, who taught American literature and environmental humanities at the University of Texas at Austin for 14 years. Alarmed by the escalating political interference in higher education, she accepted a position at the University of Antwerp in Belgium. In her words:
“I still feel so much for my students and colleagues back in Texas. It’s hard to know what they’re enduring.”
And indeed, it gets harder with every departure.
I can’t help but wonder if Dr. Houser was a member of the AAUP, which in Texas is affiliated with the Texas American Federation of Teachers. Membership provides access to legal counsel and a platform to fight back. According to President Brian Evans of the Texas Conference of Texas AAUP-AFT, since summer 2024 faculty have secured nearly $1.25 million in settlements, with more than a dozen lawsuits still in the works.
Consider also Wendy Watson, who left the University of North Texas after 15 years to teach at Ball State. In Denton, courses like Gay Rights and the Constitution became impossible to sustain under the chilling shadow of Senate Bill 17 and related measures. Watson described the mood among faculty as one of “fear, frustration, and hopelessness.” Yet even she chose to leave—accepting a 25 percent pay cut and a demotion in rank—just to continue teaching elsewhere.
These stories highlight what is at stake. SB 17 and its legislative kin are not only dismantling DEI infrastructure; they are driving out the very educators most dedicated to preparing students for a pluralistic democracy. The result is a profound brain drain that threatens to weaken our universities, impoverish intellectual life, and diminish opportunities for generations of students.
As a Texas educator who has chosen to stay, I grieve these losses deeply. I grieve for my students, who deserve classrooms where inquiry is not policed and where their full humanity is affirmed. At the same time, I understand the agonizing decisions my colleagues have made. For many, leaving is not abandonment—it is an act of survival, a way to continue teaching and researching in environments where their work is not criminalized.
The sacrifices are immense: pay cuts, uprooted families, new languages and cultures, and the heartbreak of leaving behind beloved students and communities. Yet these departures also carry a stark warning: if lawmakers continue down this path, Texas and its sister states will lose the very people who make higher education strong.
For the record, SB 17 does not prohibit faculty from teaching about race, class, gender, or sexuality when these are part of one’s expertise. Academic freedom, the First Amendment, and due process still apply, though policies and enforcement vary by institution.
This is why it is critical for those of us who remain to know the policies that govern our work. When pressured to change a syllabus or avoid certain material, a simple response—“I need to review the policy before I can make any changes”—can buy time and signal resistance. Document everything: keep written notes, record disciplinary meetings when possible, and bring a colleague or AAUP member as a witness. Always follow up with a brief email summarizing your understanding of the meeting. And remember, you have the right to file a grievance.
What gives me hope is the growing strength of Texas AAUP-AFT, which, according to Dr. Evans, is adding 30–40 new members every day. This is a testament to faculty’s hunger for solidarity, advocacy, and protection.
Here is the link explaining why one should consider joining Texas AAUP-AFT: https://aaup-texas.org/blog/f/join-aaup-to-strengthen-faculty-voices-and-rights. Membership is available to allfaculty members, adjunct professors, graduate instructors, researchers, and higher education professionals. Trust me, it's empowering.
We must continue to resist policies that silence scholarship and erase identities, while finding ways to sustain one another and nurture spaces of care, justice, and truth. The exodus of faculty is a tragedy. But those of us who remain—and those who fight from afar—can transform this grief into collective action.
We are not without power. In fact, our collective strength is both well organized and growing rapidly (Valenzuela, Unda, & Bernal, 2025). Together, we have the capacity to defend higher education as a space where knowledge is pursued freely, where students are affirmed in their full humanity, and where truth proves stronger than fear.
Survey by American Association of Professors shows nearly
quarter of respondents are switching due to states’s politics
University of Texas students walk through campus on the first day of classes in August 2025.Photograph: The Austin American-Statesman/Hearst Newspapers/Getty Images
Many professors in the US south, particularly in Florida, South Carolina and Texas, are considering leaving their state because of the impact the political climate is having on education, according to a new survey by the American Association of Professors.
Of those interviewed in the survey, roughly a quarter of respondents said they applied for a job in higher education in another state since the start of 2023.
Heather Houser worked as a professor in the English department, teaching American literature and environmental humanities, at the University of Texas at Austin for 14 years. Like the growing number of professors in the stronghold Republican state, she found the increasing government oversight on higher education alarming. Houser left Texas earlier this year for a new teaching position at The University of Antwerp in Belgium.
“I know a lot of people who’ve been on the job market for several years and they’d be gone by now if not for the factors that make it hard to leave,” Houser said. “It comes with sacrifices, and I still feel so much for my students and colleagues back in Texas. It’s hard to know what they’re enduring.”
The survey received responses from approximately 4,000 faculty members across the south and included other states, such as Georgia, Florida, Tennessee, and Kentucky, in its findings. About 25% of the professors in Texas who responded said they have applied for teaching roles in other states in the last two years, with another 25% saying they intend to start a search.
Last year, salary was the top reason as to why educators across the south were seeking employment elsewhere. In this year’s findings, however, “broad political climate” was the top motivator.
“I had been looking to leave UT Austin and Texas for many years,” Houser said, “part was just a desire for personal change, but much bigger was my concern about higher education and the direction it was going. I was worried that the ability to teach things I cared about like environmental or social justice would become increasingly hard or even discouraged.”
The Republican governor of Texas, Greg Abbott, signed a bill in 2023 that banned diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) offices and initiatives in higher education institutions across the state.
Under the law, called SB17, these offices had to start closing from January 2024, and any initiatives that promoted groups of individuals based on race, ethnicity and gender were prohibited in universities. At the University of Texas at Austin, where Houser taught, this led to resource cancellations, office closures and staff firings.
Earlier this month, at Texas A&M, a children’s literature professor was fired after a video of a student objecting to course material about gender identity and sexuality went viral. The dean of the school’s college of arts and sciences and the head of the department were also removed from their roles, the university president, Mark Welsh III, confirmed in a statement.
The university passed an audit earlier in the year to ensure that the school was complying with a new state law banning DEI in public universities, according to Battalion, the student newspaper. The video put significant pressure on the school, primarily from external Republican politicians and officials.
“A lot of people want to leave, but a lot of people might not be able to look,” Houser said, speaking to how difficult it is to get a tenured professor job, especially in the humanities.
Houser received her job offer in Belgium back in summer 2024, before Trump was elected, but couldn’t see anything changing in the state or institution, so she decided to push forward with the move. And it didn’t come without sacrifice. Learning Dutch, taking a pay cut and understanding an entirely new system were just some of the challenges she is having to navigate.
Such is also the case for Wendy Watson, who left a role as a pre-law adviser and professor at the University of North Texas and moved to Ball State University in August this year, after 15 years of teaching there.
“The classes I taught that were most likely to eventually feel the sting of SB17 and the legislation sure to follow were Gay Rights and the Constitution and Jurisprudence,” Watson said. “You cannot teach a robust class on jurisprudence without addressing critical legal studies, critical race theory and critical gender theory. You just can’t.”
In private conversations with other faculty, Watson recounted describing what they all knew: that SB 17 was just the beginning.
“We would likely see specific classes taken out of the catalog. We had already seen our School of Education rewrite course descriptions for both undergrad and grad classes (without input from the faculty who taught those classes) to remove any reference to race, gender and queer identity,” said Watson. “Everyone I spoke with felt fear, frustration, and hopelessness.”
While Watson expressed positive feelings about leaving, the departure again came with immense sacrifice. A 25% pay cut was involved, as was moving from a role as a principal lecturer to an assistant and losing the ability to teach political science.
“If things feel bad for you now, they are likely to get much worse,” was Watson’s advice to other professors considering a similar out-of-state move. “I know it feels like giving up and abandoning your students, but it’s like the guidance on an aeroplane: put your own mask on first and then help those around you.”
