A Fog on College Hill

Creative Expression and Free Speech in an Era of Institutional Caution

I am using my own time, speaking here not as a state employee but as a human being, artist and someone deeply committed to self-expression. This is what's on my mind.

---

A Fog Rolls In

Where I live in Pullman, WA the days can be dark. The terrain here on the Palouse, a distinct ecological and geographical region of the United States, is hilly. But they're not your run-of-the-mill hills. The hills look like dunes upon dunes. The college town of Pullman was built around four such hills. In the fall and winter from any one of these hills, sometimes you look out and see an ominous fog rolling in. The fog doesn't announce itself with drama. It creeps, silent and incremental, until suddenly you realize visibility has diminished all around you.

As an associate professor of painting/intermedia at a land-grant university, I've watched a phenomenon with growing concern. A job title has been quietly changed. A line or two on a departmental website has flickered out of existence or simply changed its shape — a close synonym, perhaps. Across the country, references to "equity, diversity, and inclusion" (DEI) are being systematically removed from university websites and mission statements. "Equity and Inclusive Excellence" becomes "Access and Opportunity." Recent changes are sometimes described as in deference to "the transition," "the evolving political landscape" and fear of noncompliance with federal funding requirements.

Upfront I must say that I do not envy anyone in the position of trying to waive these changes away as no big deal, or in the even less enviable position of defending bad ideas in order to keep the project of higher education alive — and thus keep the paychecks flowing and food on the table for families of all those who work at universities. Because of recent changes to federal policies, livelihoods are at stake.

President Trump's January 2025 Executive Order makes federal funding contingent on eliminating DEI programs, with agencies directed to terminate all "equity-related" grants and contracts. And while some of these directives are temporarily blocked as potentially unconstitutional, right now we are living through an unprecedented effort to tie federal grant funding to the elimination of diversity initiatives. These efforts are misguided and have created an atmosphere of confusion, secrecy and uncertainty. This fog is counterproductive, as it it makes it even more difficult to address the real problems facing higher ed.

Universities do have real problems. There’s an affordability crisis for students, while the administrative class continues to grow. There’s a student loan crisis. Even many of the most progressive voices on campuses will acknowledge these issues and more. So in no way am I arguing for the status quo. I don’t think anyone is. But the real issues impacting higher ed must be addressed head on, and won’t be solved simply through promoting or forbidding DEI. Policing language and ideas is unlikely to produce outcomes that satisfy anyone, and especially not professors like me who have dedicated their lives to their research and creative activity, pursuits that require freedom of expression and the freedom to discover and express particular truths. Diversity, equity and inclusion are not only ideals, values, or goals — they are aspects of reality.

Why This Matters for the Arts

For the arts, this shift is profound and profoundly stupid. The visual arts and art history has always engaged with issues of representation, power, and diversity. These aspects of the arts are fundamental to how we teach contemporary studio practice and art history. Artists cannot and do not separate artistic expression from the real-world contexts that shape that expression.

Furthermore, diversity is part of the strength of any arts program, and a visual arts program that is not explicitly diverse or inclusive suffers a genuine poverty — a poverty of ideas, of colors, of approaches to materials. Making sure institutions can continue providing equitable structures that enable diverse voices to participate is not a political add-on. Diversity is a fundamental mechanism through which artistic innovation occurs both on a personal and cultural level.

One of the great joys of my life is interacting with and supporting diverse students from all walks of life including first generation students, students who are trans, who are immigrants. What is often lost when considering DEI language and policies is that the poverty of a world that is exclusive — a world without diversity — harms artists of color as well as white artists and artists who enjoy other kinds of privileges. All artists benefit from being exposed to exciting and ground-breaking ideas from other perspectives. And to imagine that we could separate out "merit" from the other factors that create great art is a difficult leap. Great art emerges from the friction between different ways of seeing. For the arts, this really isn't about politics; this is in part about truthfully acknowledging and advertising the inherently inclusive and diverse character of creative spaces.

Art classrooms have never been and should never be expected to mirror the general population. The arts naturally attract people who perceive the world through different lenses, especially those who question conventional wisdom and challenge societal norms. Who find beauty where others may not. The art classroom is a special kind of place. It’s often — and I am speaking from my own experience here — where people who feel like they don’t belong in a lot of other spaces come to feel a sense of belonging. We all have our own stories, and in sharing them through language and the arts we affirm our unique value and human beings. In the arts and in the art classroom, inclusion and diversity is essential to our work. It’s a core feature of the terrain.

For now, despite the attacks on DEI language and policies, artistic expression itself is protected speech under the First Amendment. But because of threats to DEI programs and international students and professors, already many people may no longer feel safe or at liberty to fully express themselves. The role of artists and creative expression becomes even more vital during challenging times. The arts and humanities have a unique power and responsibility to document societal changes. Universities have historically been, and must remain, spaces where challenging ideas can be explored through creative work.

The Chilling Effect Is Real

There is a "chilling effect" on speech on campuses these last few months. Public forums may still host provocative speakers, but counterprotests have been muted or small. Discussions about current events or changing policies in the light of day are few. This atmosphere is not conducive to the kind of intellectual exchange that should define university life.

Given the ambiguity of many recent executive orders and the intense, existential disruptions that stripping all federal funding from universities would bring about, there’s a tendency toward preemptive compliance or over compliance. I understand this tendency and the pain of making these kinds of choices. I love my job. I am fearful for the future. And right now it is difficult to know if the best way to preserve the best future for ourselves and for higher ed is to speak up or be silent. But what I do know is that in an effort to buttress institutions against the worst possible outcomes, universities should not simply race toward those outcomes in advance.

Frequent reminders about caution regarding political activities, protected speech and particular words have created an atmosphere of self-censorship. When institutional messaging consistently emphasizes restraint, people begin to limit their expression preemptively. This is how it works in all authoritarian contexts. When individuals are afraid, they don't speak. They police each other.

Without effective discussion no action is possible. And while language alone does not make a place more diverse or inclusive, it is through language that we are able to most clearly articulate our values. Language does not only describe the world but it conditions how we perceive the world — and how our students do. When articulations wither or are attenuated, it diminishes our capacity to organize, live and create.

The Land-Grant Mission as Resistance

I work at Land Grant university. I believe Land Grant Universities are well-positioned to weather this storm, but only if they act. As a state university in a rural location, the university where I work simply does not attract the same kind of attention or wealthy donors that the Ivies attract. As someone who began my collegiate education at a community college, stopped and started my education many times, I identify strongly with these hard-working students who are coming from all different walks of life.

Many students at land grant universities are first-generation college students. Many are Native American. A significant number of students are working students, veterans, or parents. Many have Pell grants like I did as a student. In general, students don’t come to land-grant universities to turn their lives into political statements—they come for an education that will open doors in their own communities. That's precisely why policies that acknowledge their particular challenges are so essential, and why it’s necessary to discuss those challenges in accurate and honest ways.

There is a profound irony in changing “diversity, equity and inclusion” to "access and opportunity" or whatever other phrases may take its place. The original land grant mission was not about generic, universal access. Rather, it was explicitly about addressing systemic inequities in who could receive higher education. That mission recognizes that certain populations (initially farmers and workers) faced specific barriers to education that required targeted solutions; this recognition coupled with strategic and specific support is exactly what DEI initiatives do. To me, discarding equity as a guiding principle would mean abandoning a core part of the university's mission. I hope this doesn’t happen.

Standing Tall

As a colleague who lived through the tumult and changes of the 60's recently put it, "that call to stand tall is very real right now." Higher education is often at the center of national debates regarding diversity and speech and will likely continue to be. What happens at universities matters for the rest of the world in part because universities are where young adults come to learn to think deeply and to develop vision and imagination about what is possible.

Academic freedom does not mean saying anything you want. It means identifying and saying what is true. Without the freedom to say what is true, to use language and the arts in ways that celebrate the full kaleidoscope of human experience, we are truly blind.

In Pullman when the fog rolls in it might be for minutes, days, or weeks. But eventually the air clears again. What matters is what we do while visibility is limited. Do we freeze in place? To we wait in fear for official instructions? Or do we continue forward and lead each other through the mist?

This is a historical moment. If universities won't band together to fight these changes tooth and nail, at the very least those of us working in higher ed can leave a record of resistance. The fog will roll out. What matters is what will remain standing when it does.