The War on Words: How Language in Schools is Being Rewritten to Silence Students

We don’t say equity anymore. That’s what a teacher in Florida was told during a staff meeting. The directive came with a warning: words like racism, privilege, and systemic bias were no longer community friendly. In other words: say less, feel less, question less.

Across the country, school districts are quietly scrubbing educational spaces of the very words students and educators need to make sense of their lived experiences. Language isn’t just being softened. It’s being stripped of power as students are the ones left voiceless.

The Disappearing Vocabulary of Justice

Five years ago, terms like culturally responsive pedagogy, restorative justice, and gender inclusive curriculum were part of everyday conversation in many schools. They represented progress and an acknowledgment that education must evolve to serve all students, not just some.

Today, those same terms are branded as divisive. Professional development has been rebranded with vague titles like Building Belonging or Human Centered Teaching, stripped of the specificity that once made them actionable.

Consider Illinois. A suburban district recently altered its equity framework to replace racial justice with student support. A subtle shift, perhaps. But also a dangerous one. When you remove race from racial justice, you also remove responsibility.

Or take the shift from restorative justice to positive behavior supports. One centers student accountability, healing, and harm repair. The other focuses on compliance. Both use warm words, but only one builds community.

Who Gets to Decide What’s Too Political?

There is a growing trend of labeling basic truths as political. Talking about gender identity is called political. Naming systemic racism is called political. Even acknowledging lived student experiences is sometimes seen as crossing a line.

But let’s ask: Who gets to decide what is political?

A high school sophomore in Tennessee recently shared that her English teacher skipped a unit on The Hate U Give because “the themes were too current.” Another student in New York said the word white privilege was removed from a sociology worksheet and replaced with differences in experiences.

“Why can’t we just call things what they are?” the student asked.

There is an answer. Power fears clarity. If students can name injustice, they can challenge it. And that is the real threat.

What This Looks Like in Real Life

Let’s make this plain. This isn’t theoretical. It’s happening right now.

A teacher in Wisconsin was asked to remove a quote by James Baldwin from her classroom wall because it was too charged.

In Arizona, a middle school counselor was told to pause her LGBTQ+ support group. Students were meeting voluntarily during lunch, but it was stopped because it made some families uncomfortable.

In Alabama, an entire ethnic studies elective was shelved after parents complained it encouraged “resentment.”

Meanwhile, the students most impacted by these decisions, students of color, LGBTQ+ students, multilingual learners, are left confused and unseen. They know what is happening. They just aren’t allowed to name it.

When Students Lose Language, They Lose Power

Words give shape to what we feel. They help us process, understand, and take action.  

Imagine being a Black seventh grader who notices teachers calling on white students more often but no one ever talks about implicit bias, so she assumes it’s just her.

Imagine being a bilingual student who sees your home language constantly dismissed but there’s no space to discuss linguistic discrimination, so you internalize the shame.

Imagine being a trans teen, desperate for visibility but your school bans the word gender identity, so you disappear inside yourself.

This is what erasure looks like. Not in grand statements, but in quiet policies, redacted lesson plans, and silenced truths.

This Is Not Just About Wokeness. It’s About Wellness.

Let’s be honest. This backlash is framed as a fight against indoctrination or political agendas, but it’s really about control. 

At its core, this is about student mental health and success. When students can’t talk about who they are or learn about people who share their identities, they begin to feel isolated. Invisible. Wrong.

And we know the outcomes. Disengagement. Anxiety. Dropout risk. Not because the content is harmful, but because the absence of it is.

What Educators Can Do Right Now

We don’t have to wait for policy to catch up with justice. Here is how educators can resist the linguistic rollback:

Say the words, loudly and often. Whether in classrooms, staff meetings, or parent nights, use the language that reflects truth. Racism, oppression, gender identity, restorative justice. Say them without hesitation.

Teach language as a tool for liberation. Encourage students to question word choices in textbooks, policies, and media. Ask: Who is allowed to speak? Whose stories get edited out?

Build protective spaces. Host affinity groups. Celebrate identity. Create writing prompts that center personal narratives. Let students explore and express who they are, on their terms.

Document the changes. Keep records when curriculum is altered or resources are banned. Transparency can fuel future advocacy.

Language is a Mirror and a Weapon

We tell students that words matter. We teach them to use precise verbs, rich vocabulary, and persuasive language. But then we strip away the words that reflect their identities and histories.

We can’t let that stand.  Words like equity, justice, identity, and power are not threats. They are tools. And when we remove them, we don’t just rewrite policy. We rewrite reality.

Will we let them lose the language that sets them free? Or will we stand beside them and help them speak?