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Vibe Check, Part 2: When They Erase the Curriculum, They Erase the Kid

  • Writer: Marinda Harrell-Levy
    Marinda Harrell-Levy
  • May 27
  • 4 min read

Updated: May 27

The “mind your business” culture isn’t just a vibe. Unfortunately, it is directly connected to what the current president and his allies are trying to dismantle: the very responsive and relevant educational content that helps young people understand themselves. So let’s say this right: DEIB (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Belonging) content challenges aren’t about schools “getting too political.” They are about schools getting too "honest". And that honesty matters most to the conversation that we are not (yet) having about DEIB- that it’s the one thing many young people don’t get anywhere else.



Adolescence is a critical period for identity formation
Adolescence is a critical period for identity formation

This isn’t theoretical — it’s developmental science.

Teenagers need rooted stories and dilemmas to force an answer to important questions, like: Who am I? What do I believe? What has shaped me? When we ban books, silence histories, lie about mistakes and grievous acts, and remove “controversial” topics from the textbooks, students don’t just lose content — they lose access to themselves. And schools are left with structure, but no soul. Form, but no substance.

But it's not just about what history you teach — it's also about how you teach all history. Take the Vietnam War: if you leave out race, you erase that Black soldiers were disproportionately sent to the front lines while being denied civil rights at home. Do you skip Muhammad Ali’s draft resistance? The protests on college campuses? If so, you don’t just simplify history — you teach students that some truths are too uncomfortable to touch.

That’s not neutrality. That’s erasure.

And students feel it. They may go through the motions, memorize and spit facts back at teachers like cud, even score well on tests — but without emotional connection or permission to wrestle with real questions, they shut down. That’s not academic rigor. That’s not the high quality education folks say they want.

This matters across all subjects. Even in math and science, no topic is neutral when you’re teaching human beings. How we frame problems, who we uplift as innovators, what real-world examples we use — all of this sends messages. A Black girl in physics needs to see that brilliance can look like her. A first-gen student in calculus needs to feel like belonging doesn’t have prerequisites.


The greatest scientific breakthroughs weren’t born from neutrality. They came from people with deep personal tensions: Einstein grappling with time and identity. Katherine Johnson defying gravity and Jim Crow. Discovery has always been about humans wrestling with chaos — both around them and within them. When students are allowed to bring that inner tension into the classroom, we don’t distract from learning — we deepen it. DEI doesn’t water down content. It ensures students aren’t starving in rooms full of information they’re not allowed to connect to their lives.

I understand that many of President Trump’s hopeful followers believe removing books and “divisive” conversations will create neutral, focused learning environments. But that’s not what actually happens.

As someone who teaches, researches, and trains in adolescent development, I can tell you: when young people aren’t given safe, structured ways to explore identity — their own and others’ — they don’t become more focused. They become disoriented. Disconnected.


I’ve trained in schools of all kinds — elite boarding schools, top suburban districts, and urban classrooms under pressure. And no matter the zip code or test scores, I hear the same things behind the polish:

  • “I don’t know if I belong here.”

  • “No one’s asking who I actually am.”

  • “There’s no room to talk about what matters to me unless I’m already breaking.”

These are students of all races. All backgrounds. And what they want isn’t hand-holding — it’s real connection. Meaning. Permission to bring their whole selves into the classroom, even the parts they’re still figuring out.


The beauty and necessity of cultural exchange and connected classrooms
The beauty and necessity of cultural exchange and connected classrooms

DEIB doesn’t threaten education. It perfects it.

So for those of you who say you want students to focus on academics. Good. So do I. But you’re misunderstanding what makes learning real. Trying to build education without identity or culture is like trying to bake a cake without batter. You can preheat the oven, grease the pan, frost it beautifully — but open the door, and there’s nothing real inside.

Make no mistake: the batter isn’t DEIB. It’s psychological safety. DEIB is just how you get there.

Part of that academic success is unlocking potential. But potential is psychological. You cannot unlock someone who’s never been invited to see themselves. You cannot nurture excellence in a room where students feel invisible, stereotyped, or hyper-watched.

DEIB — when done right — doesn’t distract. It invites depth. It creates classrooms where rigor meets relevance. Where students don’t just memorize — they connect. They test what they learn against the world they live in. You cannot have any of the meaningful academic learning we want without giving young people the space to wrestle with the uncomfortable and once hidden. And the adults permission to bring it up. And when that exchange is absent, we see the consequences: Students refusing school. Acting out. Shrinking in. Chasing perfection until they snap.

We see:

  • The student who never raises their hand because nothing ever feels like theirs.

  • The one who turns in perfect work but breaks down afterward.

  • The “quiet” kids who aren’t shy — they’re erased.


So the next time someone says identity and emotion don’t belong in school, ask them this:

You say you want students to succeed. Then why are you cutting the parts that help them know who they are?


 
 
 

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