Part 2 - The Case for Resistance: Why Quiet Compliance Is No Longer Enough

In the early days of the DEI backlash, I held a pragmatic view. As public criticism mounted and legal threats intensified, I urged organizations, especially nonprofits, to stay focused on the work. Drop the words if you must, I said. Sidestep the outrage cycle. Preserve your policies and practices, and keep investing in the communities that need you.

That was not about retreat. It was about adaptation. I believed the political rhetoric was meant to distract, and that engaging in a semantic tug-of-war would only derail real progress. I leaned on Toni Morrison’s words—“the function of racism is distraction... it keeps you from doing your work”—and encouraged leaders to stay the course.

But today, that stance no longer holds. We are no longer in a phase of backlash. We are in an era of coordinated dismantling.

Over the past several months, we have witnessed an aggressive acceleration in anti-DEI measures—many of which are no longer rhetorical but structural. Under the direction of a returning Trump administration, federal agencies have laid off thousands of employees, with entire departments gutted for their perceived alignment with equity goals. Private contractors face the threat of losing federal business if they refuse to fall in line. Security clearances are being revoked. And perhaps most egregiously, higher education institutions have come under siege.

Colleges and universities are now being pressured to eliminate scholarships, student centers, and any programming that acknowledges race, identity, or structural inequity. The sweeping language being used—“repugnant race-based preferences”—signals not only a rejection of affirmative action, but a wholesale erasure of any initiative that signals inclusion.

This moment marks a turning point.

Institutions of higher learning are not just academic spaces. They are where young adults begin to shape their identities. They choose their schools not only based on academic reputation but on community, values, and the sense that they will be seen, heard, and safe. For many LGBTQ+ students and students of color, that sense of belonging is not optional, it is essential to their educational and personal development. So when colleges backtrack on those commitments, it is not simply disappointing. It is a breach of trust.

And this is where the logic of quiet compliance breaks down.

When I first introduced the concept of Rainbow Hushing as the practice of softening or silencing DEI commitments in public while maintaining them internally, it felt like a reasonable middle path. Some organizations were bowing out of the public DEI discourse to avoid scrutiny, but they were still funding staff, sustaining internal programs, and holding to their values behind the scenes. Others were strategically reframing the work to better reflect the language of business impact and performance outcomes. I excused this. I understood it. I even advocated for it.

But as the policy landscape has grown more volatile, that logic no longer applies. This is not about avoiding political fire. It is about resisting a systematic effort to dismantle equity infrastructure across sectors. In this environment, silence is no longer strategic. It is submission.

The more we soften our stances, the more ground we lose. This is not a passing wave. It is a sustained effort to roll back decades of progress. And if we continue to respond with silence, semantic edits, or quiet sidestepping, we risk becoming complicit in that rollback.

I do not say this lightly. I know how hard it is to lead right now. I work with leaders who are navigating shrinking budgets, rising legal risks, and board pressure to depoliticize their brands. Many are trying to protect their teams and maintain some version of the work without drawing public scrutiny. But this moment calls for more than preservation. It calls for resistance.

The organizations that once published bold statements about racial justice must now decide whether those values were aspirational or foundational. Were they just messaging, or are they still a compass? Because we have reached the point where values must be defended, not quietly lived out, not gently rebranded, but publicly upheld.

If this work matters, and I believe it does, then it must be visible, consistent, and unapologetic. We can no longer afford to whisper our principles and hope they hold.