Before US President Donald J. Trump returned to the Oval Office and began systematically attacking initiatives related to diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) across US institutions, Alabama passed SB 129, a law aimed at stifling a broad swath of DEI-related initiatives at public universities. Now, educators and students are challenging the controversial state law in a federal lawsuit filed in the US District Court for the Northern District of Alabama, arguing that it violates their constitutional rights and discriminates against underrepresented communities.
The lawsuit contends SB 129 violates First Amendment protections by imposing what plaintiffs call a “strait jacket” on academic discourse, particularly in teaching about race and inequality. “The freedom to teach, the freedom to learn, and the freedom for students to have rich extracurricular experiences without viewpoint censorship are core foundations of our higher education system,” the complaint reads, citing Supreme Court precedent that “students do not ‘shed their constitutional rights to freedom of speech or expression,’ even ‘at the school house gate.'” It also poses challenges under the due process and equal protection rights enshrined in the Fourteenth Amendment. Through interviews with Antonio L. Ingram II, a senior counsel at the Legal Defense Fund representing the plaintiffs, and Isabella Campos, a student whose campus life has been directly affected by the law, this article explores how SB 129 is already reshaping higher education in Alabama and what its critics fear for the future.
Legislative background
In October 2024, Alabama enacted SB 129, a state law aiming to erode DEI initiatives in public institutions by banning programming and limiting in ominously vague terms what and how a vast range of diversity-related topics can be discussed.
In its own words, the law prohibits “the promotion, endorsement, and affirmation of certain divisive concepts in certain public settings.” The definition of “divisive concepts” is expansive, essentially covering any reckoning with America’s past or current struggles with racial inequality. Covered topics include:
- That any race, color, religion, sex, ethnicity, or national origin is inherently superior or inferior;
- That individuals should be discriminated against or adversely treated because of their race, color, religion, sex, ethnicity, or national origin;
- That the moral character of an individual is determined by his or her race, color, religion, sex, ethnicity, or national origin;
- That, by virtue of an individual’s race, color, religion, sex, ethnicity, or national origin, the individual is inherently racist, sexist, or oppressive, whether consciously or subconsciously;
- That individuals, by virtue of race, color, religion, sex, ethnicity, or national origin, are inherently responsible for actions committed in the past by other members of the same race, color, religion, sex, ethnicity, or national origin;
- That fault, blame, or bias should be assigned to members of a race, color, religion, sex, ethnicity, or national origin, on the basis of race, color, religion, sex, ethnicity, or national origin;
- That any individual should accept, acknowledge, affirm, or assent to a sense of guilt, complicity, or a need to apologize on the basis of his or her race, color, religion, sex, ethnicity, or national origin; and/or
- That meritocracy or traits such as a hard work ethic are racist or sexist.
Taken in isolation, these directives could appear rational; for instance, few would argue that public funding should be earmarked for promoting the idea that any race is inherently inferior. But taken against the backdrop of US history, the law poses a clearer threat.
Ultimately, the US is inseparable from its history of slavery. Though slavery was abolished in 1865, for the next century, racial-segregation laws and economic practices deliberately kept many Black Americans from accessing good jobs, educational opportunities, and wealth-building opportunities. By the 1960s, persistent inequality sparked mass protests and civil rights marches across America, often met with violence, which ultimately pressured the federal government to enact reforms, including the landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964.
Despite these reforms, elements of systemic racism have pervaded. A critical turning point in the public understanding of race and equity came in 2020, following the killing by police of George Floyd, an unarmed Black man, in Minnesota. Floyd’s death initially provoked outrage over police killings, and ultimately sparked a national conversation about righting historical wrongs, paving the way to efforts across the professional and educational sectors to promote DEI initiatives aimed at counteracting historic practices that disadvantaged minority candidates.
These efforts to address historical inequities now face their own backlash. Under SB 129’s framework, even discussing such nuanced historical context becomes legally precarious. In essence, students who came of age as the Floyd protests unfolded and fostered reform are now being prohibited from examining these formative events in the classroom.
The law’s impact and targets
The chilling effect of SB 129 extends beyond the classroom, fostering a climate of uncertainty and self-censorship across public universities. Following the law’s passage, multiple universities have shuttered their DEI offices — departments that typically provide mentoring programs, academic support services, and cultural programming designed to help all students succeed, with particular attention to first-generation college students and those from historically underrepresented backgrounds. These offices have traditionally played a crucial role in student retention and academic achievement, offering resources from study skills workshops to leadership development programs and community-building initiatives.
Addressing the legislative backlash against DEI initiatives, Ingram described the chilling effect of these laws on speech in the context of multifaceted efforts to push back against meaningful change. “Many of these laws came after the large civil rights movement that sprang up after the murder of George Floyd. People began to get educated about historical inequalities, the contemporary manifestations of injustice, structural racism, structural sexism, and so on. Once people became informed about these issues, they began to consider what should be done about them. I think there’s a fear that these conversations will lead to remediation, which would require a lot of structural change, a lot of policy initiatives. I think the powers that be in the states passing these laws have an interest in preventing [this remediation] from occurring,” he said. “That’s why the divisive concepts [in SB 129] are so dangerous; they take away this information.”
The impact extends beyond theoretical concerns into daily campus life. As a member of student government, Campos has experienced the chilling effect of SB 129 firsthand. The law’s vague wording has already created obstacles for the student government in such seemingly straightforward areas as posting on social media. “We were not permitted to post on the student government’s [social media] account to mark Hispanic Heritage Month. We had wanted to highlight six or seven Hispanic members of the organization, and our advisor asked the university’s legal team if this would be a problem. We waited for a very long time for the response — I would say it was outside of the appropriate timeframe. … During the last week of the month, they reached out and told us that we may be able to post a watered down version of our original text that included a disclaimer that we were ‘non-exclusively’ celebrating the month.” She also described the shuttering of the university’s DEI office, the rebranding of the multicultural diversity programming office, and the dilution of a social justice organization.
Campos recounted how these restrictions stand in stark contrast to her earlier educational experiences. “Being exposed to [the conversations that came out of the post-Floyd civil rights movement] in high school may have been hard, but it was important that I had the opportunity to be exposed to those topics — that it wasn’t something that was shut down or shied away from. I know the rhetoric of supporters of laws like SB 129 is that they’re trying to prevent some sort of indoctrination. But in my experience, there’s no way to prevent indoctrination by restricting education. That’s never going to be an effective formula.”
Ingram described SB 129’s “divisive concept” language as censorial in nature, and as disproportionately targeting communities of color. He explained: “This is completely an infringement on the First Amendment, but it’s also important to think about whose First Amendment rights it’s targeting. What professors are disproportionately going to be teaching the sorts of curriculums that [SB 129 applies to], and what students are disproportionately going to be enrolling in these courses?”
He describes the move as part of a broader strategy to secure prejudicial norms. “This is not just about the First Amendment. This is not just about Equal Protection. It’s about the future of our multiracial democracy. College is hard when you’re a first-generation student and a person of color. If you take away resources that are intended to help people like me, and people like the ones we’re representing, graduate on time and become the next generation of doctors and lawyers and teachers and social workers — that impacts the type of leadership our country will have. It impacts the type of services our country can provide to diverse communities that comprise our nation. Laws [like SB 129] have a fundamental impact on our democratic values,” he said.
Campos echoed this sentiment. “I think the bill really targets those students who are attempting to move forward as public servants because they want to ensure that racial equity is taken into account. These are people who want to ensure [minority groups] are given space at the table to discuss their identity. As you hear a lot in the nonprofit world, if you’re not at the table, you’re on the menu.”
These day-to-day restrictions on campus life reflect broader constitutional concerns that legal experts say strike at the heart of academic freedom and equal protection. While students and organizations navigate an increasingly restrictive environment, attorneys for the plaintiffs have constructed a multi-pronged legal challenge aimed at dismantling what they view as the law’s unconstitutional framework.
SB 129 in a Civil Rights stronghold
The complaint focuses on Alabama’s rich civil rights history, noting the state served as a backdrop to some of the 20th century’s most pivotal moments:
Alabama’s history entails a devastating and violent history of racial discrimination against Black communities in the United States, but it also chronicles a deep resolve to resist and eliminate racial discrimination through civil rights advocacy. Alabama served as the first capital of the Confederacy during the initial few months of the US Civil War. After the war, Alabama was among the first of the former Confederate states to enact “Black Codes,” limiting the citizenship rights of formerly enslaved African Americans. Yet, acts of resistance such as the Montgomery Bus Boycott, the March on Selma, Bloody Sunday, and the Birmingham Campaign organized by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, shaped the trajectory of the Civil Rights Movement and the dismantling of racial apartheid in the United States.
And Birmingham itself was both a symbol of brutal racial oppression and transformative resistance during the civil rights movement. It was here that Willie Mays broke into professional baseball with the Birmingham Black Barons, before segregation in the city turned violent – earning it the nickname “Bombingham” after attacks including the 1963 16th Street Baptist Church bombing that killed four young girls. The same year, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s Birmingham Campaign brought national attention to segregation when Police Commissioner Bull Connor’s use of fire hoses and dogs against peaceful protesters, including children, shocked the nation’s conscience and helped build momentum for the Civil Rights Act of 1964.
Campos also noted the irony of the anti-DEI backlash taking root in a city famous for its civil rights history: “I think the larger picture about equity and racial justice has a particularly pronounced impact in Birmingham given its racially rich history. A lot of students I’ve spoken to within my major decided to study [in Birmingham] because of the history the city holds,” Campos said.
Constitutional challenges: a multi-pronged legal strategy
The lawsuit challenging SB 129 rests on several constitutional pillars, each addressing different aspects of how the law undermines fundamental rights and discriminates against marginalized communities.
The legal challenge begins with First Amendment protections. “We have a claim on behalf of students and professors about their fundamental rights to learn and teach, and how SB 129 is infringing upon those rights,” Ingram explains. This constitutional protection of academic freedom stands as a cornerstone of American higher education.
The second challenge targets the law’s problematic vagueness under the Fourteenth Amendment. “The US Constitution requires proper notice on how to comply with a law, how to abide by its terms,” Ingram notes. “In this case, there is a constitutional violation because [its vagueness] leads to arbitrary enforcement. We have students who don’t know if their organizations will receive funding because they involve Latinx issues. We have professors who don’t know what they can and cannot say in class because the divisive concepts are so broad and vague.” The impact is immediate and tangible: “This is not a theoretical harm; professors are literally afraid to teach the way they’ve been teaching for the past 20 years because of this law.”
The third constitutional challenge invokes equal protection, pointing to evidence of discriminatory intent. “When you look at the legislative record that led to the enactment of SB 129, there’s evidence that this law was designed to target Black communities and Black faculty members,” Ingram explains. “Legislators during the legislative process told their peers this law was akin to segregation, that the law is going to take us back from the gains that the Black community has made in Alabama, and yet they still passed it.”
Looking forward: the future of diversity in higher education
The implications of SB 129 extend far beyond academic freedom. As Ingram emphasizes, “When it comes to dismantling spaces related to the Black community, to the Black experience, it’s important to highlight that this is not just about freedom of speech. It’s about racial discrimination, and it’s under the guise of ideological culture wars. This is about Black people and other marginalized groups, and how these groups are being harmed. It’s important to note that this isn’t just about being politically progressive or conservative; it’s about marginalized people and their experiences.”
For Ingram, this fight is deeply personal. During his undergraduate years at Yale, he experienced firsthand the disorientation of being mistaken for dining hall staff by a classmate while eating with his white peers. The ethnic counselor program – which paired freshmen with upperclassmen of similar racial or cultural backgrounds – provided crucial support during such moments. “I was able to call her and tell her about this microaggression I had experienced, and discuss the disorientation of being at this Ivy League institution as a student, but being assumed to be a food service worker solely because of my skin color,” he recalls.
These experiences fuel Ingram’s commitment to protecting similar resources for today’s students. “Given my own struggles in higher education, advocating for students who are Latinx, queer, or Black is something I’m really passionate about. I’ve been in their shoes and I know how important these spaces and programs are. Anything I can do to help lead to the restoration of some of these resources is a battle worth fighting.”
The plaintiffs’ aspirations for the future are clear and compelling. As Ingram articulates, “My hope is that professors can teach without fear of termination. My hope is that students receive resources to have events that celebrate their cultures, their identities, their sexual orientation and gender identities. My hope is that students can take classes without state censorship printed on their syllabi. And my hope is that the state does not prohibit support for communities that have historically been discriminated against.”
