This year鈥檚 tumultous debates over whether American racism exists, who perpetuates it, and how it should be taught in K-12 classroom settings has saturated the nation鈥檚 thousands of school districts.
About 26 states now have taken steps to curb various aspects of how teachers discuss with students America鈥檚 racist past and how districts fight systemic racism. Many take effect this fall, and some of them contain penalties for teachers and administrators, including the loss of their license or fines.
But as some of the fiercest critics of race-related teaching acknowledge, the most important level of governance over what is taught, which materials are selected, and what training is provided is at the school district level.
Now, several school boards have also picked up resolutions or statements banning certain ways of talking about race in the classroom. While not all of these have passed, the districts鈥 experiences yield new insights about the contours of the disagreements鈥攁nd some of the effects they are likely to have on teaching and learning. Among them:
- Communities are defining 鈥渃ritical race theory鈥 in different ways, drawing on everything from scholarly sources, to popular bestsellers on race, to talking points from conservative pundits and critics.
- The debates have divided communities and have left Black individuals, in particular, feeling distrustful of school board governance.
- The resolutions are being sparked not only by the national discourse but by unexpected sources, such as confusion over state educator training requirements.
- The board resolutions typically don鈥檛 spell out penalties for educators who purportedly teach critical race theory鈥攂ut they could lead to increased scrutiny of classroom teaching.
- Most importantly, the debates are beginning to have an impact. In at least two cases, they鈥檙e directly tied to shifts in more general diversity programming.
For this story, 澳门跑狗论坛 watched school board meetings, reviewed documents, and reached out to administrators, school board members, and community members to get their reaction to the new policies. In some communities, the resolutions have been accompanied by loud, drawn out, and vitriolic testimony; in others, they鈥檝e been pro forma. Some have been passed by school boards that are theoretically nonpartisan, others by board members elected in partisan contests.
Below are vignettes detailing some school boards鈥 resolutions and the context around them.
Peninsula, Wash: When clarification leads to confusion
This generally liberal, nearly all-white community near Seattle approved a resolution on critical race theory in part due to concerns over , that requires teachers, classified employees, and school board members to receive training in cultural competency, diversity, equity, and inclusion鈥攑art of an overall plan for 鈥渄ismantling institutional racism.鈥
Peninsula鈥檚 resolution, passed July 22, states that 鈥渢here will be no additional or modified student curriculum, including critical race theory, or instruction in response to Senate bill 5044, as it does not mention or require additional instruction for students. The district will continue to teach a complete and accurate history that is inclusive and without bias,鈥 it concludes.
Superintendent Krestin Bahr said there鈥檇 been a public misperception that students would fall under the training required in the bill. The resolution was intended to clarify that CRT was not being implemented as a curriculum for students.
鈥淲hether that was intentional misinformation, I can鈥檛 speak to that. But there was an understanding that that鈥檚 what this Senate bill was. And that鈥檚 not what the Senate bill was, and not what the standards identify,鈥 she said.
It is not clear which board member primarily drafted the resolution, which was a collective effort, according to Bahr. (The school board chairman, David Olson, referred a reporter to the superintendent for comment.)
The case of Peninsula shows, however, resolutions of this nature can send other implicit messages regardless of their original intent.
Joy Stanford, the parent of a recent graduate and a longtime substitute teacher in the district, widely known as 鈥淢s. Joy鈥 by students, sat on a district diversity council despite some qualms about the slow pace of its work. She spoke up during the board meeting at which the resolution was passed.
鈥淎s the mom of a student of color who attended our schools, ... the resolution is saying to me that maybe our kids of color don鈥檛 matter,鈥 she said. 鈥淭here鈥檚 not a lot of us, and we鈥檙e not going anywhere, so I need to know we matter.鈥
In an interview with 澳门跑狗论坛, she said she still hasn鈥檛 gotten a sufficient answer about why the resolution was necessary.
鈥淎s a community, I believe we are all asking, why now? Why this, why now?鈥 she said. 鈥淎nd as a school board I think it鈥檚 important for them to answer to the community, especially parents, why did you feel like you needed this? And I don鈥檛 think we鈥檙e ever going to get an answer to that question.鈥
South Kitsap, Wash: The difficulty of definitions
When confusion about Washington鈥檚 training bill hit the South Kitsap district, school board member John Berg set out to try to research it and to determine which aspects the board might need to take a position on. As he鈥檚 learned, though, even the very act of trying to define critical race theory to the approval of all can be a perilous undertaking.
At least one resident had , which allegedly referenced concepts like white supremacy and white fragility, and spoke positively about the Black Lives Matter movement.
鈥淲e were getting inquiries about it, and the superintendent says, 鈥榃e鈥檙e not teaching CRT in the schools.鈥 And I said, 鈥榃ell, then, we need to say so,鈥欌 Berg said.
Berg does believe that hard history should be taught and believes in equality of opportunity, but is uncomfortable with the idea of equity, which he defined as trying to force the same set of outcomes for students.
There's not a lot of us, and we're not going anywhere, so I need to know we matter."
鈥淚 see no problem with equity of opportunity; some come with advantages and less advantages and the school needs to compensate. If a student is homeless, they don鈥檛 have a place to study at night, or if the language at school is not the primary language in the home, the students are going to need a little bit of extra attention,鈥 he said. 鈥淚 have no problem with that, and I鈥檝e got no problem with teaching the history of the United States with all its blemishes. Teach about the Trail of Tears, the Ku Klux Klan, the race riots.鈥
But, he added, 鈥渨e have made tremendous progress in race relations,鈥 and the thrust of the conversation about race seems to ignore that, he said.
He hoped While it opposed teaching that 鈥淎merica is an inherently racist country with white supremacists maintaining power through law, culture, and institutional practices,鈥 it acknowledged that 鈥渋njustices committed upon members of various groups, based upon race, sex, gender, religion, etc., are a part of United States history, and that history needs to be taught accurately in order to avoid repeating those injustices.鈥
Instead, he said, it ended up polarizing the community. The board meeting had to be moved to the high school gym to accommodate speakers; conservatives lined up to support the resolution, while many teachers condemned the resolution as an attempt to control their teaching. The resolution failed by a 3-2 vote.
Berg says he鈥檒l attempt to amend similar language into the board鈥檚 governance policies, which are currently being rewritten.
鈥淚 will try to introduce some dos and don鈥檛s of who we want to teach the students, and what we want them to experience and to achieve. We don鈥檛 want them to feel like they鈥檙e oppressors or to feel guilty because of the class they belong to,鈥 he said. 鈥淎nd I think that鈥檚 reasonable. Some of the folks say that鈥檚 not enough, that we need some teeth to go after the teachers who teach CRT.鈥
Paso Robles, Calif: A community changing course?
Like many districts, this small California city had begun, in August 2020 in response to Floyd鈥檚 killing, a diversity initiative initially housed in the school district, which was In March 2021, its school board passed a resolution .
Yet just five months later, the diversity panel appears to be dormant, and the district had approved Aug. 10 about the United States of America and its population鈥 and that the 鈥渄efinitional foundation of critical race theory involving an artificial distortion of the traditional definition of 鈥榬acism鈥 is fatally flawed.鈥
What happened between then and now? Paso Robles鈥 experience is a good illustration of a subtle but critical distinction in ideas of racism. The board鈥檚 initial racism resolution focused on racism as the product of individual prejudice. Critical race theory, on the other hand, isn鈥檛 so interested in that aspect of racism. It focuses on how public policies and systems, even those that appear to be race blind, can replicate inequality.
Board President Chris Arend said he鈥檇 grown worried about critical race theory based on some of the examples he鈥檇 seen on Fox News and in other national publications, as well as the Montana Attorney General鈥檚 opinion that activities like 鈥減rivilege walks鈥 ran afoul of equal-protection laws.
There had been other tensions in this community, where a significant portion of students are learning English. Board members in the spring had spent substantial time modifying California鈥檚 new ethnic studies model curriculum; the approved class will explore historical waves of immigration and different cultures鈥 integration into America, but will not engage in sociopolitical critique or what Arend called 鈥渉indsight bias.鈥
The earlier anti-racism resolution initially made reference to stolen Indigenous land, something Arend stripped out before it was put on the board agenda. And earlier this year, the district had sent guidance about the limitations of teachers鈥 free-speech rights after two teachers had had a Black Lives Matter poster in their video backgrounds, prompting parent complaints.
As for the CRT resolution, 鈥淚 wanted to put the teachers on notice that these are the teachings we don鈥檛 want to see in our classrooms,鈥 Arend said in an interview. 鈥淥ne suggestion was to adopt a resolution that simply says we reject CRT, and the board rejected that out of hand saying it doesn鈥檛 give the teachers any guidance.鈥
Indeed, the Paso Robles鈥 resolution is notable in part because of its length. Five tenets teachers will be banned from discussing come directly out of a well-known written by some of the original legal scholars.
But the second part of resolution hews closer to the state legislation and to former President Trump鈥檚 executive order on government training; it says, saying among other things, that no one should be made to feel guilt about their race. (Scholars who developed CRT say that is not part of the theory.)
EdWeek asked Arend about this distinction.
鈥淚 can imagine some proponents of critical race theory at the university level might be embarrassed that some of this stuff has gone a bit too far,鈥 he said. 鈥淏ut the language at the back part of the resolution was taken out of the [state] statutes that have been adopted or proposed.鈥
鈥淚 don鈥檛 want to get into a big debate about what is or is not CRT. You can go down a real deep rabbit hole on this, but the main lines that are appearing in the public expression of CRT are addressed in this resolution we adopted,鈥 Arend said.
The town鈥檚 diversity committee appears to have gone quiet since hosting a Juneteenth celebration earlier this summer. Neither Paso Robles鈥 mayor nor a member of the committee returned messages seeking comment.
Gallatin County, Ky.: A pro-forma ban on critical race theory
In this small, conservative district where about 95 percent of children attending its schools are white, board members spent more time debating its custodial services contract than on its critical race theory resolution, which passed unanimously June 15.
Gallatin鈥檚 resolution is short: It bans critical race theory flat out. School board members did not discuss any kind of guidance for educators on what that means in practice. In fact, the only pushback came from the school board鈥檚 attorney, Jake Thompson, who sought clarification on what, specifically, would be outlawed by the resolution.
鈥淚s there a specific curriculum being taught here, or something?鈥 he asked Hargis Davis, the board member who proposed the resolution.
鈥淚鈥檓 just saying, it鈥檚 one of the dumbest things that I鈥檝e ever heard, the teachings and things of it. Every child should be equal in all children鈥檚 eyes,鈥 Davis replied. 鈥淚鈥檓 just not going to get into it tonight.鈥
And with that, the board voted unanimously, and moved on to the next order of business.
Davis did not return a request for comment.
Cherokee, Cobb, and Forsyth counties, Ga.: The effects begin to trickle down
The Cherokee County and Cobb County, Ga., school districts, both neighboring Atlanta, were among the first two districts in the country to pass their own anti-CRT resolutions, while nearby Forsyth County has been under intense pressure to address the issue from critics.
(All three are among the small number of school boards nationally that hold partisan rather than nonpartisan elections.)
The Cherokee County resolution, passed May 20, states that the board will not implement critical race theory 鈥渦nder that name nor by any other name,鈥 and will not use the New York Times鈥 1619 Project.
Following a raucous board meeting at which speakers threatened board members and conflated social-emotional learning with CRT (they are different), Superintendent Brian V. Hightower said in the district. (The precise details of this plan weren鈥檛 clear, although increasing the number of teachers and staff participating in culture and inclusivity training is one of the district鈥檚 objectives in its five-year strategic blueprint.)
The decision also prompted a newly hired diversity consultant, who was to lead diversity initiatives in the district, to In , she wrote that her work was made untenable by the district鈥檚 public dithering.
鈥淭his was the perfect opportunity to take a stand and reiterate what DEI and SEL is and why CCSD believes in it,鈥 she wrote. 鈥淚nstead of standing, I witnessed a tremendous fall into doubt and concession with a resolution on something that was never a part of the truth anyway.鈥
She could not be reached for comment. A Cherokee district spokeswoman also declined several requests for comment on the developments.
I wanted to put the teachers on notice that these are the teachings we don鈥檛 want to see in our classrooms.
Cobb County鈥檚 resolution, which is worded similarly to Cherokee County鈥檚, passed June 10. And in a stark, painful reminder of the political and racial subtexts of the debate, the three Democratic board members, all Black, abstained from voting. At least one of them, Jaha Howard, told the local CBS news channel that the proponents of the resolution had been unable to define what critical race theory comprised. 鈥淚t鈥檚 embarrassing to vote on something with no definitions,鈥 she said.
Queried about how the resolution has affected the district, one board member did not respond while another, Leroy Tre鈥 Hutchins, noted that protesting the new resolution. The counselor could not be reached for comment.
The three Democrats have also been targeted by a recall effort for of the district鈥檚 board dynamics.
There are some early signs, too, that merely the specter of political drama has prompted some districts to change course. While Forsyth County has not formally passed a CRT resolution, pushback on the Forsyth County district鈥檚 now nearly four-year-old diversity plan prompted the board to release a statement that it 鈥
The statement seemingly downplays the DEI effort, emphasizing that the plan was developed in response to its accreditor鈥檚 recommendation to improve families鈥 and students鈥 sense of belonging at school.
鈥淭his is all we are trying to accomplish at [Forsyth County Schools] with the DEI Plan and our mentoring program. There is no indoctrination. There is no political agenda. We simply want all our children and families to be valued. That鈥檚 it,鈥 the statement reads.
And while its superintendent and school board have publicly stood by the plan, the district has paused diversity training for staff, which will be 鈥渆valuated and revised.鈥 It also will revisit it as it crafts a new strategic plan for 2022 and beyond. The district declined to comment.
Joseph Cousins is the president of Cherokee County鈥檚 NAACP chapter. He attributes that district鈥檚 resolution to several factors.
It鈥檚 a conservative county that was often in the spotlight during the 2020 presidential election. Like other suburban bedroom communities, its demographics are changing, growing more diverse as Atlanta creeps northward. (The county is about 87 percent white, but its nonwhite population has been growing.) Most of all, he attributes it to fear.
鈥淒o you know what the trigger word down here is? Equity. When they heard the word equity [the opponents] went off,鈥 he said. 鈥淓quity means fairness鈥攃ompassion鈥攇oodness鈥攈onesty鈥攄ecency. But I think they have taken it to mean someone鈥檚 going to take something away.鈥
Cousins is also the the pastor of the Allen Temple Woodstock, an African Methodist Episcopal church and one of the few predominately Black churches in the county. In the past three months, the church has begun introducing five-minute segments taught by educators on African-American history in the middle of Sunday service, twice a month. He鈥檇 like to eventually expand the effort into more regular classes.
鈥淏ecause of all this stuff, it鈥檚 become imperative, because the schools are not going to teach it. It has to be taught at home, and in our churches, and in our other institutions that can teach people,鈥 Rev. Cousins said.
鈥淏eing African-American in this country, we don鈥檛 really know a lot about the true heritage of where we came from and how to trace our roots back. So it鈥檚 imperative we teach as much as we can. 鈥 I had been dragging my feet on it, and [the resolution] definitely was the impetus to do it.鈥