A publication of the Association of California School Administrators

Holding the line

Protecting DEI programs and the rights of transgender and mixed-status families in K-12 schools

By Breeze McDonald | September | October 2025

Diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) programs in schools are under siege across the U.S. — especially those that protect transgender students and mixed-status immigrant families. As a Black, queer woman in educational leadership, I know intimately that these are not abstract policy debates. These are attacks on our communities and our children. The struggle for safe, affirming, and legally protected educational environments is a justice imperative. While politicians weaponize anti-trans and anti-immigrant rhetoric, educators — especially those from historically marginalized communities — are being called to defend not just programs but lives. This article shares practical guidance, grounded in research and lived experience, for protecting DEI initiatives and affirming the rights of our most vulnerable students.

DEI is not a trend — it is a shield Contrary to current backlash narratives, DEI work is not about political correctness but survival and access. Programs that support inclusive curriculum, culturally relevant pedagogy, and social-emotional learning are linked to measurable gains in academic achievement, sense of belonging, and school safety (Ladson-Billings, 2021; Gay, 2018). When districts cut DEI offices or censor curriculum, they are stripping away scaffolding that many students — and educators — rely on to exist.

Educational theorists like Gloria Ladson-Billings and bell hooks insist that equity in education means centering lived experience and creating space for critical consciousness. As Ladson-Billings (1995) asserts, culturally relevant teaching is not just good practice, it is liberation pedagogy. In schools where anti-DEI legislation is gaining ground, educators must name and resist these rollbacks as tools of racial and gendered oppression (Bonilla-Silva, 2018; Crenshaw, 1991).

Protecting trans students is a legal and moral duty Over 500 anti-trans bills were introduced in U.S. state legislatures in 2023 alone, many targeting K-12 youth. These bills threaten to criminalize teachers for affirming students’ identities or using correct pronouns. However, both the U.S. Department of Education and multiple federal court rulings affirm that transgender students are protected under Title IX (Griffin et al., 2020). Schools that fail to respect students’ gender identity may be liable for discrimination.

Beyond legal mandates, affirming transgender students is a life-saving intervention. Research shows that school gender-affirming policies reduce suicidality, absenteeism, and bullying (Kosciw et al., 2020). Using a student’s chosen name and pronouns is not about “beliefs” but about creating conditions for students to survive and thrive. Educators must also challenge the cognitive load placed on trans students who navigate hostile policies daily. Based on social cognitive load theory, discriminatory environments disrupt working memory and self-efficacy, impacting learning outcomes (Sweller et al., 2019; Bandura, 1997).

Mixed-status families: The hidden struggle Mixed-status families — where members have different immigration statuses — face unique challenges that are often invisible in school systems. Children of undocumented parents may live in constant fear of family separation, impacting their mental health and academic performance (Abrego & Negrón-Gonzales, 2020). Schools are one of the few public institutions where undocumented families can legally participate without fear of ICE raids. However, this haven is increasingly being eroded. From English learner cuts to surveillance of parent groups, the climate is chilling. This erosion of trust undermines student safety and deepens systemic inequities that school leaders have a moral and legal obligation to confront. As scholar Leigh Patel (2016) reminds us, education must be examined through the lens of settler colonialism and racial capitalism — systems that render immigrant families disposable. District leaders must train staff on the rights of undocumented students (Plyler v. Doe, 1982), adopt sanctuary school policies, and remove barriers to parent engagement like ID requirements or English-only communication.

Resisting the fracturing of coalition work One of the most insidious effects of anti-DEI movements is the fracturing of solidarity among marginalized groups. School leaders must resist false binaries that pit racial justice against LGBTQ+ rights or immigrant rights against “parental control.” Coalition-building is essential. In moments of political division, our most significant power lies in collective resistance that honors complexity, not conformity. Drawing from Kimberlé Crenshaw’s framework of intersectionality, we must understand how systems of oppression interlock. A transgender Black student in a mixed-status household, for example, sits at the crossroads of multiple vulnerabilities. Schools cannot pick and choose which identities to protect. As leaders, we must navigate power structures strategically while keeping equity at the center. Policy protections matter — but so do behind-the-scenes alliances, co-conspirators, boardroom advocacy, and community organizing.

Actionable strategies for school leaders: Leading courageously through adaptive change The fight for equity in education requires more than technical compliance. It demands adaptive leadership that shifts mindsets, restructures power, and rehumanizes our systems. School and district leaders must commit to deep, sustained action that dismantles marginalization and affirms all students’ dignity.

Here are five high-impact strategies designed for immediate implementation and long-term transformation:

1. Codify equity commitments into policy and practice.

Ensure district policies explicitly protect and affirm transgender students, multilingual learners, and students in mixed-status families. This includes:

Updating nondiscrimination clauses to include gender identity, gender expression, and immigration status.
Adopting sanctuary or safe zone policies that limit cooperation with immigration enforcement.
Embedding these protections in student handbooks, discipline policies, and family engagement protocols.

Why it matters: Policy is not just a statement, it’s a protective structure. When institutionalized, it legitimizes inclusion as core to the school’s mission, not a political side agenda (Patel, 2016).

2. Interrogate and act on equity data Collect and disaggregate data on discipline referrals, course access, attendance, and staff demographics by race, gender identity, language, and family immigration status. But don’t stop there.

Facilitate equity audits to assess systemic barriers.
Convene staff and community to co-interpret the data.
Set public, time-bound goals for reducing disparities.

Why it matters: Equity work must be data-informed and community-accountable. What we measure reveals what we value (Ladson-Billings, 2021).

3. Invest in sustained, transformational professional development Move beyond checkbox DEI workshops. Develop long-term, scaffolded learning experiences on:

Implicit bias and critical consciousness.
Civil rights protections under Title IX and Plyler v. Doe.
Trauma-informed approaches rooted in community care.

Ground this work in the adaptive leadership frameworks of scholars like Jamel Adkins-Sharif, who centers anti-racist systems thinking, and Anthony Asadullah, who highlights epistemic justice and educator identity work.

Why it matters: Professional development must not just inform but transform. Adaptive change means shifting deeply held beliefs, not just policies (Heifetz, Grashow & Linsky, 2009).

4. Build power-with, not power-over, community organizations Establish formal partnerships with LGBTQ+ centers, immigrant justice coalitions, culturally specific mental health providers, and grassroots parent networks.

Use Memoranda of Understanding (MOUs) to clarify roles.
Embed partners into school wellness teams, PD offerings, and curriculum co-design.
Pay community experts for their labor and wisdom.

Why it matters: Schools cannot do this work alone. Resilience is communal — and justice is relational (hooks, 1994; Crenshaw, 1991).

5. Institutionalize student voice and leadership Create consistent and meaningful structures for students to shape their learning environments:

Establish equity advisory councils with stipends and decision-making power.
Use anonymous surveys to track safety, belonging, and identity affirmation.
Co-design curriculum and policy with students from marginalized groups.

Why it matters: Students, especially those at the intersections of oppression, hold expertise in what works and what harms. Listening to them is not optional; it’s foundational to equity (Vygotsky, 1978; Bonilla-Silva, 2018).

When districts cut DEI offices or censor curriculum, they are stripping away scaffolding that many students — and educators — rely on to exist.

Conclusion: Toward a future that holds us all Protecting DEI initiatives, transgender students, and mixed-status families is not supplementary to our work as educators. It is the very foundation of ethical and transformative leadership. As a school leader from a historically marginalized community, I engage in this work through policy and pedagogy and embodied resistance — an everyday commitment to interrupting harm and advancing justice. bell hooks (1994) reminds us that “education as the practice of freedom” is a collective endeavor that requires us to reimagine schools as sanctuaries for belonging, healing, and radical hope. This moment calls for more than compliance with equity policies. It demands an unwavering moral stance rooted in intersectional solidarity, historical accountability, and visionary care.

We must repair the harm inflicted by exclusionary practices, disinformation, and political fearmongering. Moreover, we must do so by centering those most impacted — Black and Brown trans youth, undocumented families, and multilingual learners — not as afterthoughts, but as the very architects of the future we are building. When we lead together across lines of race, gender, legal status, and identity, we do more than resist oppression. We create conditions for collective liberation. Our leadership must be a shield and sword, but it must also be a scaffold and sanctuary. The future of public education depends on whether we are willing to stand in a courageous community, resist erasure, and lead with the unshakable belief that all our children deserve to survive and thrive.

References Abrego, L. J., & Negrón-Gonzales, G. (2020). We are not dreamers: Undocumented scholars theorize undocumented life in the United States. Duke University Press.

Bandura, A. (1997). Self-efficacy: The exercise of control. W. H. Freeman.

Bolman, L. G., & Deal, T. E. (2017). Reframing organizations: Artistry, choice, and leadership (6th ed.). Jossey-Bass.

Bonilla-Silva, E. (2018). Racism without racists: Color-blind racism and the persistence of racial inequality in America (5th ed.). Rowman & Littlefield.

Crenshaw, K. (1991). Mapping the margins: Intersectionality, identity politics, and violence against women of color. Stanford Law Review, 43(6), 1241-1299. https://doi.org/10.2307/1229039

Gay, G. (2018). Culturally responsive teaching: Theory, research, and practice (3rd ed.). Teachers College Press.

Griffin, C., Gill-Peterson, J., & Meadows, R. (2020). Transgender rights and Title IX: Legal and educational realities. Harvard Law Review, 133(8), 2160-2184.

hooks, b. (1994). Teaching to transgress: Education as the practice of freedom. Routledge.

Kosciw, J. G., Clark, C. M., Truong, N. L., & Zongrone, A. D. (2020). The 2019 National School Climate Survey: The experiences of LGBTQ youth in our nation’s schools. GLSEN.

Ladson-Billings, G. (1995). Toward a theory of culturally relevant pedagogy. American Educational Research Journal, 32(3), 465-491. https://doi.org/10.3102/00028312032003465

Ladson-Billings, G. (2021). Culturally relevant pedagogy: Asking a different question. Teachers College Press. Patel, L. (2016). Decolonizing educational research: From ownership to answerability. Routledge.

Sweller, J., Ayres, P., & Kalyuga, S. (2019). Cognitive load theory (2nd ed.). Springer.

Breeze McDonald is a district-level Special Education Coordinator of Inclusion and a doctoral student at USC Rossier School of Education.