On June 24, the North Carolina General Assembly overrode several gubernatorial vetoes, advancing legislation that reaches into our public schools, colleges and universities, and state and local government. While each bill addresses a different policy area, together they tell a larger story about the direction of public education in our state. Further, last week the General Assembly sent a lackluster long-awaited budget to Governor Stein for approval which also doubled down on eliminating diversity, equity, and inclusion.
The question before us is not simply whether we support or oppose a particular piece of legislation. The more important question is this: What kind of educational future are we choosing for North Carolina’s children?
For months, conversations about education have increasingly centered on what educators cannot teach, what institutions cannot say, and what supports cannot exist. Restrictions on diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives in K–12 schools, higher education, and public agencies reflect more than changes in policy; they represent a shift in priorities. They invite us to spend more time debating ideology than solving the very real challenges facing students, educators, and communities. As I stated in a recent episode of Education Matters, the origin of these bills and provisions in the budget are simply grounded in fear and a continued resistance to wrestling with necessary truths. One cannot develop empathy or a respect for differences when there is policing or prohibitions on what can or cannot be discussed in PK – 20 settings.
This debate has often centered on three letters; DEI. But public education has never been defined by an acronym. It has always been defined by a simple commitment: meeting the needs of each and every child. Every day, educators differentiate instruction, provide interventions, supporting students with disabilities, teaching English learners, challenging advanced students, and creating classrooms where all children can learn and thrive. That work is not political, it is the essence of public education.
Meanwhile, North Carolina continues to wrestle with teacher shortages, persistent achievement gaps, declining educator morale, widening opportunity disparities, and the unfinished work of fulfilling every child’s constitutional right to a sound basic education. These challenges have not disappeared because new legislation or the budget has passed. If anything, they demand even greater focus, collaboration, and courage.
The cumulative impact of these policy changes, including those outlined in the budget, deserves careful attention. Taken together, they have the potential to influence every stage of our education system from how future educators are prepared, to how teachers are supported in the classroom, to how schools partner with families and communities. They may affect institutions’ ability to recruit and retain a diverse educator workforce, pursue grant-funded partnerships, and create environments where every student feels seen, respected, and prepared to learn.
This is not simply about terminology. It is about capacity.
When educators become uncertain about whether honest conversations can be misunderstood, when institutions question whether they can continue programs that support belonging and success, and when communities wonder whether their lived experiences have become too controversial to acknowledge, fear begins to replace trust. Public education has never flourished in environments defined by fear.
North Carolina’s history reminds us that progress has never come from avoiding difficult conversations. It has come from engaging them thoughtfully, listening across differences, and keeping children at the center of every decision. Leaders like Dr. Dudley Flood understood that building bridges required honesty, humility, and the willingness to see beyond politics toward possibility. Our state’s greatest educational advances have always emerged when we expanded opportunity rather than narrowed it.
None of this suggests that schools should become places of political advocacy. Quite the opposite. Public schools should remain places where students learn to think critically, examine evidence, understand history, appreciate different perspectives, and engage respectfully with one another. Preparing students for citizenship requires confidence in their ability to wrestle with complexity not shielding them from it.
As we move forward, North Carolina has an opportunity to resist false choices. We can uphold academic excellence while creating environments where students from every background experience belonging. We can support educators while maintaining accountability. We can teach our full history without assigning blame. We can prepare students for an increasingly diverse world while remaining firmly committed to the constitutional promise of educational opportunity for all.
The legislation and budget provisions enacted this session may shape policies for years to come. But laws alone do not determine the future of public education. That future will be shaped by the choices educators, families, community leaders, policymakers, and students make every day about what and whom we value.
We must continue to question if these laws or provisions bring us closer to fulfilling North Carolina’s constitutional promise to every child or whether they divert our attention from the work that matters most. If our policies move us closer to fulfilling that promise, we should embrace them. If they distract us from that responsibility, then we owe it to our children to keep asking hard questions and working together toward better solutions.
At the Dudley Flood Center for Educational Equity & Opportunity, we believe our responsibility remains unchanged: to build bridges, strengthen educators, elevate communities, and ensure every child has access to an excellent education where truth, opportunity, and belonging are not competing ideals, but shared commitments.
North Carolina’s children deserve more than political rhetoric. They deserve the constitutional promise of a sound basic education. They deserve our collective courage to ensure their needs are met every day.
Our children are watching. May they inherit a North Carolina that has the courage to tell the truth, the wisdom to build bridges, and the unwavering commitment to ensure every child has the opportunity to learn, belong, and thrive.