When Texas A&M University notified faculty last week that it is eliminating its women’s and gender studies program, low enrollment and cost were cited as reasons.
“One of the primary duties of university administrators is to be good stewards of public money,” wrote Alan Sams, Texas A&M’s provost and executive vice president, according to The Texas Tribune. “Even the smallest programs require ongoing investment in faculty time, staff support, and administrative oversight.”
Actually, there’s a larger context for the cuts at Texas A&M.
Actually, there’s a larger context for the cuts: Faculty were told last month that approximately 200 courses in the College of Arts and Sciences could be affected by restrictions on classroom discussions about race and gender approved late last year. After a student secretly recorded an A&M professor teaching differences in gender identity, expression and sexuality in a summer course, the A&M System Board of Regents required campus presidents to approve courses that advocate for “race and gender ideology.” In December, the board revised that policy to prohibit discussion of these topics in core curriculum courses unless university administrators determined that the material serves a “necessary educational purpose.”
Professor Melissa McCoul was fired after a video of her exchange with a student went viral. (McCoul filed a lawsuit against the university Tuesday.) Now, it seems, the women’s and gender studies program is paying the price for daring to defy the Trump administration’s assertion that college classrooms are no place for diversity, equity and inclusion, or DEI, teachings.
The women’s and gender studies program is paying the price for daring to defy the Trump administration’s assertion that college classrooms are no place for diversity, equity and inclusion, or DEI, teachings.
All told, these developments signal a continued federal assault on academic freedom. Texas A&M administrators apparently would have us believe that women’s and gender studies is a frivolous discipline, easily disposed of. But that’s untrue, especially to those of us who have been educated through its multidisciplinary approach to teaching gender, sexuality, expression, race, class, nationality, ability, ethnicity, power and privilege.
I am a trained journalist, a discipline that values the illusion of “objectivity,” or the idea that it is possible to tell stories without considering context. After completing journalism school in 2012, I was capable of reporting “impartial” stories, but I didn’t have the context — historical, cultural and political — to understand journalism’s power as a tool of liberation. Women’s and gender studies changed that for me.
When I began pursuing a graduate minor in women’s, gender and sexuality studies, I wasn’t sure I was cut out for what the discipline asked of me. I felt frustrated by the language (what did hegemony even mean?) and pushed to my limits as a thinker and writer. But things clicked after I attended a guest lecture about how Tyler Perry’s productions perpetuate age-old controlling images about Black women. Suddenly, women’s and gender studies blew up my world in the best possible way. Rather than remaining indoctrinated by patriarchal norms, I was being trained to challenge those norms, dismantle them and envision an expansive world that could exist in its place.
Rather than remaining indoctrinated by patriarchal norms, I was being trained to challenge those norms, dismantle them and envision an expansive world that could exist in its place.
Through this new purview, I began to see more broadly — things like how pop culture can both challenge and reinforce -isms and -phobias, how our cultural protection of R. Kelly came at the expense of his young Black victims, how Black children are adultified while white children are coddled and how some retellings of the Civil Rights Movement erasee essential work performed by Black women activists. As I took courses about Black feminism and critical race theory, my journalism became even more enriched.








