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.

Students walk through campus at the University of
Texas at Austin on Aug. 25, 2021. /Eddie
Gaspar/The Texas Tribune

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. 

References

American Immigration Council. (2023). The economic impact of rescinding in-state tuition for undocumented students in Texas. https://www.americanimmigrationcouncil.org

Every Texan. (2021). Cost of excluding undocumented students from Texas colleges. https://everytexan.org

Flores, S. M. (2010). State dream acts: The effect of in-state resident tuition policies on the college enrollment of undocumented Latino students in the United States. The Review of Higher Education, 33(2), 239–283. https://doi.org/10.1353/rhe.0.0134

Klibanoff, E., & Priest, J. (2025, June 4). Texas’ undocumented college students no longer qualify for in-state tuition. The Texas Tribune. https://www.texastribune.org/2025/06/04/texas-undocumented-students-instate-tuition/ 

Valenzuela, A. (1999). Subtractive schooling: U.S.-Mexican youth and the politics of caring. State University of New York Press.

Vertuno, J., & Lathan, N. (2025, June 4). Judge blocks undocumented students in Texas from receiving in-state tuition. Associated Press. https://www.apnews.com/article/texas-instate-tuition-undocumented-students-ruling-2025 

© Angela Valenzuela, 2025
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0).

Gen-Z Latino-Americans are reclaiming their culture through language, By Emily Schutz | ABC News

Friends,

This ABC News piece by Emily Schutz beautifully captures a quiet but powerful cultural renaissance unfolding within Gen-Z Latino communities. The stories of Alex Del Dago and Mia Hernandez reflect a broader trend of reclamation—of language, heritage, and intergenerational connection—that is both personal and political. 

As someone deeply involved in education and community-based work, I see firsthand how language is not just a tool for communication but a vessel for identity, memory, and belonging. It’s especially moving to witness young people bridging the silences created by assimilation—not out of obligation, but out of love for their families, their roots, and themselves.

As a third-generation Mexican American/Tejana/Chicana, I carry my own story of linguistic loss. Hard as I tried, I know I missed so much with my Spanish-speaking grandfather, who was from the state of Guerrero, Mexico—something I regret deeply. But it wasn’t by choice. Like so many others in Texas and across the country, I was forced to assimilate through an English-only schooling system in my hometown of San Angelo, Texas.

This is still the norm, not the exception. And it wasn’t just about language—it was about identity. That painful erasure is what informed my book Subtractive Schooling, which is now marking its 25th anniversary.

Thankfully, I had a passive understanding of Spanish growing up—I could comprehend more than I could speak, an experience familiar to many in our community. Over time, with much effort, I regained enough fluency to hold meaningful conversations with my Mexican family. Still, I’ve never quite shaken that lingering sense of loss and longing. So I’m especially heartened to see young people reclaiming what was once taken. 

It's also what we're all about at Academia Cuauhtli, a Saturday school that I and others co-founded 11 years ago in order to honor and nurture children's identities, sense of self, and heritage. We do not teach the Spanish language; rather, we teach in the language. It's a school that I wish I could have attended as a young person.

Mia’s reminder is critical: reclaiming culture doesn’t require fluency or perfection. It requires intention, openness, and care. Whether through food, music, stories, or language—every act of connection is a quiet form of resistance against cultural erasure.

Gracias to Emily Schutz for highlighting this powerful resurgence.

—Angela Valenzuela

Gen-Z Latino-Americans are reclaiming their culture through language

Learning Spanish is bringing together the generations.

By Emily Schutz | ABC News


September 20, 2022, 3:16 PM

Alex Del Dago was in the seventh grade when he attended a Spanish class. It was the first time he was focused on learning his father’s native language. The class also served as the gateway for meaningful communication with his grandmother, who he calls abuela, who speaks only Spanish.

Del Dago’s abuela tells him that she’s glad he learned the language and that his ability to speak Spanish has improved their relationship.

“I knew that if I didn't put in the work or put in the practice to learn it, I may never be, never be able to actually have like a real substantial conversation with her,” Del Dago said.

Mia Hernandez is pictured at age four alongside her Abuela, who was born and raised in Cuba. At the time, Hernandez only knew how to say basic phrases in Spanish. 

Courtesy of Mia Hernandez

According to a 2017 report by the Pew Research Center, 11% of American adults with Hispanic ancestry do not identify as Hispanic. Similarly, while there is widespread support for the language among Hispanics, the more generations a family has been in the United States, the less likely they are to teach their children Spanish.

MORE: Why Spanish-language voting ballots are critical for democracy, advocates say

But some Gen-Z Latino-Americans like Del Dago are reclaiming their culture via language and learning it later in life.

From seventh grade through college, Del Dago studied Spanish through courses at school. His dad was born in Cuba and immigrated to the United States when he was 4 years old, along with his younger brother and parents. The family left Cuba during the Freedom Flights of the late 1960s and early 1970s.

Del Dago’s dad had a difficult time learning English without a program for non-native speakers and he didn’t feel like his son fit in with the other students in class, which influenced his decision to speak to Del Dago exclusively in English.

“At the time [my parents] decided it would be better just to raise me speaking English because they thought it would be easier for me to fit in and adjust and make friends quickly,” Del Dago said.

Del Dago’s experience is not unusual. With each generation, the number of Hispanic heritage parents who speak to their children in Spanish decreases. Seventy-one percent of U.S.-born second-generation Latino parents speak to their children in Spanish and fewer than half of all third- or higher-generation Latino parents do, according to the Pew Research Center.

“One of the main proponents of allowing children or creating more dual language programs is Dr. Kim Potoski, and she has found no evidence that just growing up in these bilingual settings will take away from your ability to speak English. On the contrary -- it helps you,” said Anel Brandl, a professor at Florida State University who teaches Spanish to students with Hispanic heritage.

Mia Hernandez celebrates her second birthday with her Abuela, and brother, Micheal.

Courtesy of Mia Hernandez

Mia Hernandez is a former student of Brandl’s and has a similar upbringing to Del Dago. Her dad is also from Cuba. Growing up, her parents worried that teaching her Spanish would hinder her ability to speak English, although Brandl says that recent research has disproven that.

Hernandez recently graduated from Florida State University with a minor in Spanish. Now she’s fluent in a language she barely spoke growing up.

“I feel a lot closer to my Cuban heritage now that I speak Spanish than before when I almost completely rejected it in favor of learning English so that I could fit in with my English-speaking American friends,” Hernandez said.Just like Del Dago, learning Spanish transformed her relationships with her family members.

“I think the difference has just been getting to know my grandmother a lot more and about her life growing up in Cuba,” Hernandez said.

Now, Hernandez is training to teach Spanish speakers abroad English, and Del Dago is getting his Ph.D. in art history, focusing on queer Latin artists. Both have worked to connect to their familial heritage through the power of language.

Alex Del Dago stands with his Abuela and father just before his high school graduation. At this point, he had taken four years of Spanish and was able to have substantial conversations with his Abuela, who was born and raised in Cuba. Courtesy of Alex Del Dago

Hernandez emphasized that you don’t need to speak Spanish in order to feel connected to your culture.

“I don't think that it's something that there should be any guilt or shame around not learning, but I think it's also up to us to figure out how to move forward, as Cuban Americans, deciding how we want to raise our children, and so whether we want to teach our children Spanish, we want to teach them about maybe the culture and the food,” she said.

Faculty Governance and the Fight for Public Higher Education, by Dr. Karma R. Chavez

 Friends,

I'll provide updates on the 89th Texas Legislative Session soon that just ended here in Texas, but don't let your day go by without reading Dr. Karma Chavez' excellent AAUP Blog on the importance of faculty governance to democracy. This should be germane to higher education institutions everywhere.

-Angela Valenzuela

Faculty Governance and the Fight for Public Higher Education

Attacks on shared governance are attacks on academic freedom.

By Karma R. Chávez | Spring 2025 | AAUP Blog

In February 2022, amid the growing onslaught of attacks in both K–12 and higher education against teaching about race and racism in US history, the University of Texas at Austin Faculty Council passed a resolution defending academic freedom and, in particular, affirming the right of UT faculty to teach critical race theory, or “CRT,” as it has become known. In no time, Texas’s far-right Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick issued a public statement decrying “looney Marxist professors” and insisting that in the next legislative session he would ban CRT. He explained that this is why the legislature and right-wing donors had been pushing to create the “Liberty Institute” at UT, a proposed right-wing think tank designed to subvert ordinary faculty hiring processes and combat the gender and race ideology that supposedly dominates Texas’s universities.

Implicit in Patrick’s threat was a view that faculty should not be able to govern their own workplaces, and particularly the curriculum. Although in 2022 Patrick had not fleshed out a critique of the faculty’s role in institutional governance, that role, like “CRT” and “DEI” (diversity, equity, and inclusion), would quickly be in his crosshairs. Before the 2025 Texas legislative session, which has now begun, Patrick already made it clear that faculty should have no role in governing Texas universities. In April 2024, in his “interim charges” on higher education for the upcoming session, Patrick singled out “faculty senates” as the first of his seven priorities. He charged the Texas Senate to “review and analyze the structures and governance in higher education, focusing on the role of ‘faculty senates,’ and like groups, in representing faculty interests to higher education institution administrations” and to “make recommendations to establish guidelines for the role and representation of faculty by ‘faculty senates,’ and like groups, at higher education institutions in Texas.”

Although Patrick’s ire was catalyzed by the faculty council’s 2022 resolution, his views in April 2024 were given shape by none other than Christopher Rufo, the architect of both “CRT” and “DEI” bans nationwide. In May 2023, Rufo argued on his Substack blog that rather than upholding the principles of “academic freedom, faculty governance, and institutional autonomy,” the university should be governed “according to the principles and priorities of voters, who elect legislators to govern state institutions in the interest of the common good.” In providing a limited summary of a debate he had with Princeton University political scientist Keith Whittington, Rufo explained that universities are not “a free marketplace of ideas” but instead represent “a state-run monopoly on education institutions” that should serve “the public good.”

Rufo’s consistent deployment of his claimed investment in the “common” or “public” good is a well-worn tactic to enshrine conservative ideology in law in the name of supposedly benign “common sense.” In my last book, The Borders of AIDS, I detail the persuasiveness of such “commonsense” appeals through an in-depth analysis of a 1987 legislative debate in which Republican Senator Jesse Helms of North Carolina advocated for a ban on all HIV-positive immigrants—this despite the fact that virtually no public health entity agreed that a ban would lead to better health outcomes in the United States. In my book, I show how Helms located his brand in a “national commonsense”: It was a matter of common sense, he claimed, that the course of action he advocated would be best for the nation. In the end, despite all the scientific and medical evidence to the contrary, Helms won the debate, and the US Senate passed a devastating ban on HIV-positive immigrants, which President Ronald Reagan signed into law and which remained in place until 2009. The case is instructive in showing how commonsense appeals are so persuasive because they are so hard to refute. Although these appeals typically lack evidence, they call into question the value of expertise, and in the absence of expertise or specifics, they appear to many as if they are self-evidently correct.

Similarly, Rufo’s appeals to the “common” or “public” good are persuasive because they assert as fact that, as publicly funded institutions, colleges and universities should be accountable to the taxpayer. I agree with this claim, though not with his understanding of what it means. My colleagues and I have been given a tremendous responsibility in educating our state’s students. I take that responsibility very seriously, and each time I step into the classroom or hold a mentoring meeting I strive to teach my students the absolute best that my fields of study have to offer. I attend to my students’ work with care, and my North Star is ensuring that their critical thinking, their analytical skills, their understanding of course materials, and their writing are the best that they can be. This is what I was trained to do, and it is what I’ve done every day of my professional life.

In February 2022, when my colleagues at UT passed the resolution affirming the right to academic freedom in teaching, they were expressing the seriousness with which they understood their responsibilities as faculty members. Our job is not to teach and carry out research on subjects that happen to be popular among the majority in our respective legislatures or with the person living in our governor’s mansion. Our job is to teach what we know to be true, and to conduct research without political influence, so that we may continue to refine our knowledge.

Faculty senates and councils provide an expert and informed infrastructure to ensure that we can provide the finest education based on the best and most recent knowledge available. Faculty senates are not apolitical entities. It is through faculty senates that fields like my own—ethnic and gender studies—have had to make the case that our knowledge is worthy of being integral to a university education. And to be clear, those fields have not earned their place without struggle. In my experience, faculty senates, which remain dominated by white, middle-class, heterosexual, and Christian faculty, continue to approach work of the kind I do with great suspicion. In fields like mine, faculty governance bodies are not always friends; more often they are the first obstacle we must overcome in proving our scholarly worth to our institutions.

Nevertheless, if I am to remain employed by a public university, I must place some level of faith in the importance of having our curriculum assessed by these entities. I do so because I recognize that, while we may differ on the specifics of research and teaching, we all share the values of faculty governance, academic freedom, and independent expertise.

I consider the assault on faculty governance one of the five pillars of the current far-right attack on higher education, along with the assaults on DEI, academic freedom, tenure, and student protest. It remains to be seen if the Texas legislature will be successful in dismantling faculty governance at our state’s public universities. Texas has already banned DEI work, severely limited the meaning of tenure, and cracked down in incredible ways on student protest. How will it curtail academic freedom and shared governance in the 2025 session?

Our current circumstances in Texas bring to mind events from a decade ago in Wisconsin, when I was a tenured faculty member at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. In 2015, the Republican governor, Scott Walker, worked with the Republican legislature to remove from state law protections for tenure and shared faculty and student governance and further concentrate decision-making power in the hands of the board of regents. Walker and his allies were successful in this effort. I remember attending the first faculty senate meeting after the conservative board of regents adopted policies in spring 2016 that replaced the faculty’s shared role in institutional decision-making with a merely advisory role. Prior to this time, these meetings were raucous affairs, because the UW–Madison chancellor at the time, the late Rebecca Blank, couldn’t make any decisions without the agreement of the faculty. The faculty knew this, and we entered each of those meetings knowing our power. The debates were intense, and they required long deliberations to come to consensus. That spring, with the new law in place, Blank walked in with what seemed to me a new air of confidence. As faculty challenged her in their usual assertive way, Blank stood at the podium, pen in hand, jotting notes on a piece of paper. And after each faculty member spoke, she said something to the effect of, “I’ll take that under advisement.”

I do not mean to suggest that administrators like Blank shouldn’t have an important role in determining university policy. They should. There is usually a good reason why they’ve risen through the ranks. But faculty know the curriculum better than any administrator or regent ever could. It is for that reason that the 1966 Statement on Government of Colleges and Universities, jointly formulated by the AAUP, the American Council on Education, and the Association of Governing Boards of Universities and Colleges, holds that the faculty “has primary responsibility for such fundamental areas as curriculum, subject matter and methods of instruction, research, faculty status, and those aspects of student life which relate to the educational process.” Without real faculty governance, there can be no academic freedom.

In Texas, we will fight for faculty governance with every resource we have available. But it is important to note that this fight is not limited to red states in the South. As the attacks on DEI have already made clear, no matter where you are, you must be willing to fight for the principles that are now under threat. If you don’t, the consequence could be not just that you might not have a job, but that the very tender bonds of this democracy—if you can even still call our country a democracy—will be shredded beyond repair. 

Karma R. Chávez is Bobby and Sherri Patton Professor and Chair in the Department of Mexican American and Latina/o Studies at the University of Texas at Austin, where she also serves on the executive committee of the AAUP chapter. Her email address is karmachavez@gmail.com.

Silencing the Truth: UC Irvine’s Unjust Removal of Dean Frances Contreras, Ph.D.

Friends,

Please share this far and wide.

I count myself among the many admirers of the prolific and highly respected scholar Dr. Frances Contreras, who was unjustly removed from her position as first Latina Dean of the School of Education at the University of California Irvine. Her removal appears to be a clear act of retaliation for speaking out against serious misconduct—a deeply troubling breach of university policy and fundamental principles of fairness.

What happened to Dr. Contreras is both outrageous and heartbreakingly familiar to so many women of color in academia who dare to lead with integrity, speak truth to power, and advance justice even when it challenges entrenched interests.

As a nationally recognized advocate for educational justice, Frances was removed without warning, without a mandated five-year review, and with no transparency. Her whistleblower complaint outlines a disturbing pattern of retaliation, intimidation, and institutional neglect after she raised urgent concerns, including threats to safety, financial mismanagement, and abuse of power.

Rather than address these issues, university leaders appear to have punished the messenger—hoping perhaps to silence her, and anyone else who might follow. But Frances refuses to be silenced. Her courage in standing up not only for herself, but for the ethical treatment of students, faculty, and staff, is powerful and deeply inspiring. 

I am appalled to learn about what is happening to Dr. Contreras and proud to stand beside her in this fight for justice.

I also want to thank Orange County Register reporter Allyson Vergara for bringing this story to light with care and clarity. Journalism like this is essential to holding institutions accountable.

We are watching. We are outraged. And we are standing with Frances.

—Angela Valenzuela

UC Irvine professor files complaint over removal as dean

Frances Contreras, who was hired in 2022 to lead the UCI School of Education, says she was denied a proper review and calls for an investigation

Frances Contreras, former dean of the UC Irvine School of Education and the college’s first Latina dean, was removed from her position suddenly in March, without a formal review process. Contreras and a number of civil rights organizations, are calling for a formal review of the decision. She is pictured at the university on Wednesday, April 23, 2025. (Photo by Mindy Schauer, Orange County Register/SCNG)

By ALLYSON VERGARA | avergara@scng.com | Orange County Register

UPDATED: May 23, 2025 at 7:05 AM PDT

A prominent educator at UC Irvine is speaking up against what she calls

retaliation by school officials.


Frances Contreras was ousted from her position as the former dean of the

UCI School of Education. Contreras said that she received the notice March 31

without warning, preventing her from engaging in a five-year review - a

process she said is afforded to her peers under University of California policy

- and is calling for a formal investigation.


Contreras, who began her role in 2022, became _the _University of California's

first Latina/Chicana dean to head a school of education in the UC system.

During her three-year tenure, Contreras claims she went through incidents of

defamation, intimidation, bullying, "retaliation and outright discrimination"

from UCI Provost Hal Stern and leaders across his units - including the former

School of Education dean, the former assistant dean, and various faculty

members within the Office of Academic Personnel, including the Vice Provost.

On April 29, Contreras filed a formal grievance complaint through UCI's

Whistleblower Office.

"I was repeatedly met with inaction, retaliation and resistance, ultimately

leading to my unjustified removal from the deanship," Contreras said in an

interview. She called the move a "further attempt to silence" and harm her

reputation.


Contreras said she raised "legitimate concerns about serious misconduct and

potential violations of law and policy," referring to "deeply troubling incidents"

at UCI that caused her to request immediate action from university

leadership - incidents she said were then further enabled and ignored.


In her formal complaint, Contreras alleges that UCI retaliated against her for

reporting "numerous violations of law, university policy and ethics" by School

of Education personnel and former faculty . She alleged specific incidents,

such as in late 2023, when she learned that a faculty member experiencing a

mental health crisis reportedly "purchased and housed firearms on the UCI

campus," stayed on campus, and "behaved erratically" following news that

she would be terminated. Contreras - then the education dean - said this was

"in reckless disregard" of school safety.


The complaint also alleged the school's reported failure to conduct an audit of

a $3 million donor gift, after Contreras said she discovered that $225,000 of

the grant was allocated to an outside organization "for administrative

support." Repeated requests for an audit were, she said, "flatly refused."


Another alleged incident was experiencing abusive conduct and intimidation

from a fellow professor/former School of Education dean, which Contreras

reported but "the university failed to fully investigate, and refused to

interview witnesses ." That alleged faculty member, whom she named an

abuser, had "publicly declared he would destroy Contreras," the complaint

said.


She also alleged threats to her personal safety and that of other school

members, computer fraud and abuse, misuse of university funds, differential

treatment and "clear diminution of power and authority" as School of

Education dean compared with her predecessor.


She claimed conflicts of interest within the Office of Academic Personnel,

where she was reporting her concerns - all of which, her complaint said, were

ignored or "met with open hostility." One former faculty member allegedly

blocked Contreras' access to the School of Education's electronic folders, and

instructed staff to restrict her from accessing the school's listservs.

Frances Contreras, former dean of the UC Irvine School of Education and the college's first Latina dean, was removed from her position suddenly in March, without a formal review process. Contreras and a number of civil rights organizations, are calling for a formal review of the decision. She is pictured at the
university on Wednesday, April 23, 2025. (Photo by Mindy Schauer, Orange County Register/SCNG)

Contreras called it "a culture of retaliation and silencing" those like herself

who spoke out "about serious misconduct" and violations of UC, state and

federal policies. She said that there was a "complete refusal" to investigate

her alleged concerns by campus management who, rather than "taking

accountability and appropriate corrective measures," instead "enabled

misconduct by shielding unethical actors, ignoring potential violations of law

and policy."


Contreras was "abruptly" terminated from her deanship on March 31, denied

a five-year review process, and experienced a substantial salary decrease, the

complaint said.


"The timing of her removal, which came shortly after she called for a

thorough and impartial investigation into her complaints, illustrates the

retaliatory nature of her removal," the complaint said. "The individuals who

made the decision to remove Dr. Contreras from her deanship were the same

individuals whose improper conduct Dr. Contreras reported.''


In a statement, UCI officials said they "would not comment on individual

personnel matters," but "takes all concerns seriously."


UC Irvine is "committed to providing a respectful and inclusive environment,

free from discrimination, intimidation, or retaliation," the statement

continued. "Allegations involving university policy or state and federal law are

reviewed through established procedures and addressed in accordance with

applicable policies and legal requirements.''


Internal formal reviews are part of the UC employee dismissal process,

According to UC policy, and employees may file a complaint.


According to UC_policy, deans are appointed for a normal five-year period and

are subject to reappointment, made on a five-year basis. The UC chancellor

may also consider a salary increase after a five-year review results in a

recommendation to reappoint the dean, identifying "significant achievements

and/or sustained excellent administrative performance.''


Contreras, a first-generation Latina college student from Norwalk, said that

equity for underrepresented communities was the crux of her work in

education. Being a leader in education carries with it a responsibility "to speak

out (and) stand up against bullying and intimidation.''


"Being a leader fearful of speaking truth to power is not leadership," she said.

Prior to her post as dean, Contreras served as the associate vice chancellor

for equity, diversity and inclusion, and as a professor of education studies at

UC San Diego, where she has more than 15 years of administrative leadership

experience. She helped to launch a Latinx academic experience program and

spearheaded UCSD's efforts to become a Hispanic-Serving Institution. She

Outside of the UC, Conteras worked at the University of Washington's College

of Education, where she led higher education programs and researched

learning opportunities for Latino students.


At the time of her appointment in 2021, UCI officials - including Stern and

Chancellor Howard Gillman - called Contreras "perfectly aligned with the

strengths and far-reaching impact of the school," and "an accomplished

administrator with a record of driving equity and diversity."


In late December, the school honored her on its social media pages for "her

unwavering advocacy for equity and diversity, making an impact that inspires

communities near and far."


"I saw this role as an opportunity to utilize my background and skills to

support the faculty and students as well as to serve as a leader and mentor in

a field where Latina academics and leaders remain dramatically

underrepresented," Contreras, who remains a faculty member at UCI, said.


A number of Latino civil rights organizations, UCI faculty and alumni backed

Contreras in her quest for an internal review under UC_ policy.


Tonia Reyes Uranga, president of the League of United Latin American

Citizens (LULAC) Council #3309, wrote in a letter of support that she was

"concerned that speaking out about violations is not seen as an exercise in

free speech by UC Irvine."


Latinx faculty and alumni groups within the UC system also demanded swift

answers from management.


In a March 31 group letter, a group of Latinx professors - hailing from UC

Santa Cruz, UCLA, UC Berkeley, UC Davis, UC Merced and UC San Diego -

agreed that "without prejudging the merits of the case, we think there are

enough red flags to require an immediate formal independent investigation."


Neptaly Taty Aguilera, co-chair of the UC Chicanx Latinx Alumni Association,

recommended that Latinx representation be part of any formal review

process. She recognized Contreras for her leadership and academic

excellence, especially in uplifting the Latino community.


"We want to ensure that the UC system is transparent regarding how Latino

Jose F. Moreno, president of Los Amigos of Orange County, which has many

active UCI alumni, said he was "proud and thrilled" when Contreras was

named the dean of the School of Education. He called for a full, independent

investigation so that Contreras' "willingness to raise her voice to bring

attention to these disturbing acts will not be cause for retaliation or isolation

against her."

Moving forward, as she awaits a response from the UC, Contreras is confident

in her quest for justice that "the truth will come to light.''


But she also worried about the "broader efforts of this injustice on other

women and leaders of color who choose to stand up when confronted with

wrongdoing ... I fear that UCI's retaliation may have a chilling effect.''


She connected her experience with the Trump administration's ongoing

campaign to end "DEI" initiatives in public schools, saying she was

"disheartened" by the "vigorous attacks on DEI and concerted efforts to roll

back progress for underrepresented groups.'' She said these actions will have

"devastating reverberations in all corners of society.''


Women of color in academia have been "targets of some of the most

egregious attacks" - especially women leaders seen as a threat to

"longstanding power imbalances and structural inequalities," Contreras said.

"We see pervasive attacks against women who write about structural

oppression, who challenge systemic power dynamics, and who battle against

having their identities and contributions erased from history," she continued.

"The next generation of women and scholars of color are watching with hope

and anticipation that we use our voices to advocate for their rights and a

place in the academy and positions of leadership.''

Originally Published: May 23, 2025 at 7:00 AM PDT

An Archive of Resistance: My Blog is Ranked Fourth Best Education Blog in Texas; 20 in all Texas Blogs

Friends:

I’m pleased to share some good news: my blog is currently ranked the fourth-best education blog in Texas and 20th among all Texas blogs according to Feedspot.com. I’m deeply grateful to my community here in Austin—and to friends, colleagues, and co-conspirators across the country—for your loyal readership and continued support. Thanks, in particular, to Latinopia, Voice of the Mainland, and to librarians nationwide for uplifting my blog over the years. Your engagement and encouragement keep this space alive and purposeful.

With nearly half a million new page views each year, this blog has become a trusted source for those seeking truth, coupled with a sustained, authentic voice, in an age of distortion. It's also a good window through which to view and understand at least some aspects of Texas education policy and politics. 

I have asked former students and other scholars, including my husband, UT History Professor Dr. Emilio Zamora, to join me as a regular blogger (he has SO much to offer), but those I've asked are always either thinking about it or don't have the bandwidth.

Writing for a global audience, I understand, can seem daunting, particularly for scholars who perhaps find a modicum of refuge in conventional publication outlets. Writing for even larger audiences is yet another skill one must cultivate. I know it took me plenty of time to get to where I am today, so perfectly understood. 

"Writing is a muscle," I always say, "that must be regularly flexed."

We should liberate writing, too—where writing is the act of thinking, a space for imagination and relief.  Let's not underestimate the expressive power of writing. If you liberate writing, you liberate creativity and thought.

I shudder to think that in the earliest breaths of this blog, I chose not to host it through UT-Austin, but instead went with Blogspot.com. In hindsight, that decision was critical. Had I tied this blog to the university, it would most certainly have been dismantled, archived, erased, or rendered inaccessible, alongside countless other DEI-related programs and resources targeted under Senate Bill 17. To be honest, it was a healthy distrust of my university back in 2004 that guided me.

Recent photo delivering testimony on SB 37

I knew, even then, that the institutional winds could shift, and that critical voices—especially those advocating for justice, equity, and inclusion—would not always be protected. This decision, in retrospect, was shaped by what Dolores Delgado Bernal (1998) calls cultural intuition—an embodied, experiential form of knowledge rooted in our lived realities as scholars of color navigating historically exclusionary institutions. 

Yes, very much based on my own difficult experiences in predominantly White Institutions (PWIs) throughout life and career, this intuition led me to create a space beyond institutional reach—a space that has become an archive of resistance, a tool for organizing, and a platform for truth-telling that endures even as the official record is being rewritten.

As public institutions are pressured to silence inclusive voices, this platform has become even more vital—a place where, I trust, communities are finding affirmation, knowledge, and collective purpose.

I love this picture I took at the Texas Capitol last Friday and is a fitting way to conclude: "This too shall pass. It might pass like a kidney stone. but it will pass."

-Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.

References

Delgado Bernal, D. (1998). Using a Chicana feminist epistemology in educational research. Harvard Educational Review, 68(4), 555–582. https://doi.org/10.17763/haer.68.4.5w7m447lmbx482l4

Valenzuela, A. (2021, Nov. 10). [Blog]. A Personal Message on Why I Blog and a Word of Thanks by Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D. 

    Note: I took this photo about a week ago when I was ranked third. As of today, according to Feedspot.com, I'm ranked fourth. Regardless of the shift, I’m honored to be in such close company with leading voices like the Texas Education Agency, the Texas Classroom Teachers Association, and the Pre-K Pages blog.

To be part of this conversation—alongside institutions and organizations with far greater resources—is both humbling and energizing. It’s a testament to the power of community, critical dialogue, and public scholarship.

It’s all good. 😊

-AV

It’s time for parents and students to protect the public education opportunities they want, by Mica Pollock and Hirokazu Yoshikawa

Friends,

Drs. Mica Pollock and Hirokazu Yoshikawa’s incisive study lays bare the chilling effects of Florida’s sweeping K–12 restrictions—policies that have become a national model for dismantling public education under the guise of “parents’ rights.” Sounds like Texas where rhetoric of "parental rights" are being invoked selectively—not to genuinely expand educational opportunity, but to rationalize top-down control, ideological censorship, and the rollback of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives.

A crucial point is that "the majority of U.S. parents want their children to learn to think critically and feel included in school as core aspects of gaining skills."

Their research reveals a sobering picture of fear, erasure, and systemic harm. Teachers are silenced, books pulled, AP courses and identity-affirming texts denied, and professional development slashed. To avoid vague punishments, educators abandon best practices and inclusive teaching, stripping vital supports from students. Rather than protecting families, these policies divert resources toward censorship, undermining the core purpose of public education.

Pollock and Yoshikawa urge parents, students, and communities to reclaim their educational rights and defend inclusive, opportunity-rich schools. Research shows students thrive when affirmed and challenged—requiring more diverse books, honest history, and support, not less. 

The anti-DEI backlash endangers not just marginalized groups but public education itself. 

Pollock and Yoshikawa call for bold, collective resistance: backing educators, speaking out, and exposing the harm of policies disguised as protection. They call for bold, collective resistance: backing educators, speaking out, and exposing the harm of policies disguised as protection. 

I'm generally not the "doom and gloom" person in the room, but truly, if we stay silent, we may soon find there’s little left of public education to defend.    

-Angela Valenzuela


It’s time for parents and students to protect the public education opportunities they want

By Mica Pollock and Hirokazu Yoshikawa

Access paper here.

May 13, 2025 | PEN America

The Trump administration has furiously targeted and cut student support efforts it feels are related to “diversity, equity, and inclusion.” Trump’s Department of Education even threatened to withdraw baseline federal funding from children if K-12 educators support kids with “DEI programs” or “DEI practices” or instruction that the administration has suddenly and vaguely –and unlawfully, according to the courts — deemed “illegal.”

While various states resisted, some states agreed to review and reduce all K-12 DEI programming themselves to align with the Trump team’s anti-“DEI” demands. Judges blocked enforcement of some of these federal demands, finding they were making educators afraid to teach and support students.

So now the nation needs to ask: what else happens to education opportunity throughout K-12 systems when policymakers ramp up such threats and attacks?

The nation has an example to learn from. Our new study in Florida, The Limitation Effect, shows how policymakers pressuring restriction and “bans” on K-12 efforts to support students can end up hurting everyone.

Since 2021, Florida has been the test case for policy threatening and restricting K-12 education. Policymakers have amplified caricatures of what teachers are doing and created a suite of laws, regulations, and related state guidance to restrict education efforts. Florida policies have gone the furthest in the nation in targeting K-12 discussions of race and student supports around sexual orientation and gender identity. Policies threaten financial consequences for districts and individual educators’ employment; mandate and pressure employees into widespread vetting of materials; and actively invite individuals to try to restrict K-12 materials for everyone, including for containing any “sexual conduct.” Florida has the nation’s most book bans.

American parents should be worried. Policymakers now in and advising the Trump administration previously promoted policy elements present in Florida and are pressuring related and even broader restrictions nationwide.

Our 86 study participants, largely school-level educators and parents from 26 Florida districts, shared examples of how Florida’s restrictions harm education both for targeted subgroups and for all students as people throughout systems focus energy on limiting basic student supports.

As restriction and review pressures cascaded through systems, some teachers avoided books even mentioning “racism,” afraid they might be “unauthorized” – or said they felt afraid even to keep teaching “the African American experience in the U.S.” Librarians felt they couldn’t order books “speaking to” Black and Latino students, or books with LGBTQ characters. Educators and students became afraid to mention LGBTQ people, even their own families. Some educators stopped using youths’ preferred names. Some inclusive clubs were closed.

And study participants described more harms that spread even further across the education system as policies compounded. Despite state language about “parents’ rights,” parents were often unaware of the learning opportunities being taken from everybody’s children:Afraid for their jobs, some teachers boxed up or stopped using entire classroom libraries to avoid punishment.

Some avoided discussing basic aspects of U.S. history in class.
Some stopped using any literature other than textbooks, to be “safe.”
Educators removed safe space signs and reduced efforts to build rapport with students.

To root out “age inappropriate” material per the state, scared educators removed books for advanced readers.

In state-pressured review processes, some educators threw out books that had inspired low-income readers learning English.

Students were denied access to specific AP courses, including, statewide, the College Board’s AP African American Studies pilot.

Some librarians and entire districts removed award-winning classics that included any mention of sexual conduct.

Educators and some systems cut off student access to the public library, or stopped using national digital collections supporting struggling readers/students with disabilities, because K-12 employees could not re-review every text for content possibly prohibited by the state or disliked by an individual.

State reviewers canceled some teacher professional development on supporting all students academically, for including discussions of “equity.”

Professional development on diagnosing disabilities accurately—to avoid misplacing students generally as well as “black and brown children” particularly— was limited to avoid discussing “bias.”

Lengthy state review of materials for compliance with new restrictions held up resources for blind students, and health curriculum for some entire districts.

A district educator was spending paid time seeking lessons that did not mention “Black Lives Matter.”

Some districts spent hundreds of thousands of public dollars re-reviewing and removing books.

Some already-purchased books were thrown away.

The bottom line: the policies pressured K-12 systems to spend time, public funds, and energy on limiting student access to ideas, information, and supports, rather than expanding education opportunity. Such limitations cut into the bone of public school opportunities for everyone, to please the most extreme and restrictive voices.

In our study, many educators and parents described desires to leave Florida’s public education system due to these restrictions on top of existing stressors. As one Florida teacher put it: “I want to leave. I hate almost everything about ‘teaching’ because we are restricted on every level.”

The nation will endanger students’ futures and public schooling itself if we move further in the restriction direction.

Parents and students have a solution as the government threatens schools: more can speak up loudly for the inclusive and opportunity-rich public schools they want. Restriction policies threaten to halt the very areas of improvement that researchers call for and students need.

 Research shows all students benefit from multiple perspectives in books and classrooms, welcoming environments, and open discussions about society as they prepare for careers and college. The majority of U.S. parents want their children to learn to think critically and feel included in school as core aspects of gaining skills. We can debate best paths to these goals, but taking opportunities away from students and public schools is not “parents’ rights.” It’s time for more students, parents, and community members to say so.

In their schools and districts, to the media, at state legislatures and school board meetings, to their elected representatives, and to the feds– at every level where decisions are made— students and parents can blunt ideologically-driven calls to “ban” by focusing on supporting and discussing educators’ efforts to improve public schools for all students and expand opportunity so all children succeed. They can explain and demand more of the teaching, books, support, and programming that help all students develop skills and feel they belong. They can back up specific teachers, schools, districts, and students under attack; they can demand reinstatement of opportunities removed. Organizations to join exist nationwide.

By speaking up for schools’ best efforts to support all students, they can help stop efforts to crush America’s public schools.

That’s reclaiming education “rights.”

Mica Pollock is Professor of Education Studies at UC San Diego, and Hirokazu Yoshikawa is Courtney Sale Ross Professor of Globalization and Education and University Professor at NYU.