Covering schools, it’s not for the faint of heart these days. Ground zero in a national conflict over culture, education is big news.

Reporters and editors—we at SLJ included—want to get the story right, to bear witness, and to provide readers with accurate, relevant information. But the tenor of an increasingly polarized debate, with efforts to limit discussion of racism and LGBTQIA+ topics in the classroom, challenges journalists—much less educators and students—who must navigate a volatile climate.

In 20-plus years of covering education, T. Keung Hui is encountering teachers once “bold enough to say anything” who are now unwilling to talk. “They’re afraid they’re going to get targeted,” says Hui, an ­education reporter for the News & Observer.

Speaking on a recent panel organized by the Education Writers Association, Hui said that a ­local North Carolina historical expert who addressed slavery, among other subjects, when speaking to students, won’t visit schools now for fear that the teacher or principal will be disciplined as a result. “That’s the kind of climate I’ve never seen before in schools.”

With elections looming, and school board, state, and federal races to be decided come fall, this will surely intensify.

At least 15 states are considering legislation to cull LGBTQIA+ material and related discussion in schools. According to Education Week, some proposals exceed the restrictions of Florida’s infamous “Don’t Say Gay” law that forbids classroom instruction about sexual identity or gender for grades K–3. In Arizona, for example, a bill would require parental permission for students to participate in a club or group involving “sexuality, gender, or gender identity.” Other proposals would enable parents to determine pronouns used by their children in school in Wisconsin, Iowa, and Rhode Island.

Anger and distrust directed at educators, accused of indoctrinating students in social justice and so-called liberal views, may not be new. But the effect of local and regional politics, poised to impact ­public education across the country, is unprecedented. 

“We need to understand that [education] has become a political argument,” says Eesha Pendharkar, a staff writer for Education Week. She addressed the ­decision-making around including certain perspectives in stories and whether that fulfills the task of an education reporter and the mandate to cover schools and what’s best for students. The person shouting at the school board meeting, who may not have a child in the system, “may not be very relevant,” says Pendharkar.

Regarding challenges to books, she advises journalists to stick to the facts as much as they can. ­Explain the actual theme of books, and seek ­clarity when passages are perceived out of context, says Pendharkar. “Taking the emotional and political content out is the best strategy.”

Even so, expect blowback. Recalling an instance in which he reported on a “slave auction” staged by students at J.S. Waters, a K–8 school in Goldston, NC, Hui fielded angry messages accusing him of trying to shame white people. “You write about these issues, you are going to get hammered,” he says.

The language of pending bills is frequently vague, citing “divisive” concepts, which cannot be taught. So, like soft censorship of books and materials, there’s been a chilling effect where district officials are proactively directing employees to limit their teaching.

“Lessons on race are being preemptively avoided,” says Pendharkar, “which is a loss to student learning.”