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The Hypocrisy of Anti-DEI Laws: When Civil Rights Language Is Used to Discriminate

Updated: Aug 22

Blindfolded Justice holds scales with "ANTI-DEI LAWS" and silhouettes. Text reads: "The Hypocrisy of Anti-DEI Laws: When Civil Rights Language Is Used to Discriminate".

The recent Justice Department actions—especially the rollback of race‑based consent decrees and framing DEIA initiatives as potential fraud under the False Claims Act—mark a disturbing manipulation of civil rights law. These reversals deploy the language of equality to erase progress, restrict access, and roll back protections historically fought for by marginalized communities. The result? An emerging paradox: civil rights rhetoric used to suppress civil rights itself.


Table of Contents


Civil Rights as Mask for Discrimination


Under current legal reinterpretations, efforts to support equity—whether in education, housing, or healthcare—may be accused of racial preference or banned. Yet as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. reminded us:


Discrimination is a hellhound that gnaws at Negroes in every waking moment of their lives to remind them that the lie of their inferiority is accepted as truth in the society dominating them.” (source


He also recognized that: 


“The white poor also suffer deprivation and the humiliation of poverty if not of color. They are chained by the weight of discrimination though its badge of degradation does not mark them. It corrupts their lives, frustrates their opportunities and withers their education. In one sense it is more evil for them because it has confused so many by prejudice that they have supported their own oppressors.” (source)


King understood civil rights as a moral imperative—not a zero‑sum game—grounded in the belief that equality must extend to all—especially those historically denied fair access. This has always been the framework of advocacy for diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts. 


Who Wins Under This Misinterpretation?


These regressive reinterpretations of civil rights protections not only preserve existing privilege—they expand it in dangerous ways. Take, for example, the rise of all-white enclaves: extremists in the Ozark region of Arkansas recently established a whites-only settlement under the guise of a “return to the land” initiative, prompting alarm among civil rights advocates. This resurgence of de-facto segregation echoes the legacy of sundown towns—enclaves where Black and other non-white people were historically excluded by intimidation or law.  


At the same time, the House has passed the SAVE Act, legislation that would mandate

Four U.S. maps show citizenship laws for voter registration over time. The final map illustrates nationwide implementation if the SAVE Act passes.
.”Movement Advancement Project, “Democracy 101: Proof of Citizenship Laws,” p. 2.

documentary proof of citizenship—like a birth certificate or passport—for voter registration. Advocacy groups warn that this requirement disproportionately disenfranchises married women (most of whom change their last name), trans individuals struggling to update documentation, young voters, and rural residents who face barriers accessing such documents. These laws are less about securing democracy and more about narrowing access to it.


In the military, transgender service members—some with 15 to 18 years of service—have been denied early retirement benefits, being forced out without the support accorded to others—making this a targeted violation of civil rights for a marginalized identity.


Together, these trends illustrate a broader pattern: as civil rights rhetoric is twisted to justify exclusion, real harm accrues to BIPOC communities, LGBTQ+ people, immigrants, women, and rural populations—while those already in power—who benefit from segregation, voter suppression, and shrinking protections—are allowed to entrench their dominance.


The Real-World Cost of Dismantling Equity Protections


Housing

Anti-discrimination laws have long expanded access to mortgages, regulated fair rent, and prevented exclusionary zoning—especially benefiting BIPOC, LGBTQ+, and immigrant families. Eroding these protections reverses decades of progress and reinforces segregation, displacement, and housing instability.


Healthcare

Dismantling DEIA programs undermines bias reduction efforts, hinders the diversification of the medical workforce, and jeopardizes equitable care delivery. As equity interventions are increasingly labeled suspect or unlawful, marginalized populations—especially patients of color, immigrants, and LGBTQIA+ individuals—bear the brunt. Healthcare institutions lose vital tools for dismantling systemic inequities in care.


Education

Affirmative admissions, support for underrepresented medical students, and inclusive curricula now face legal uncertainty. Without institutional backing, marginalized trainees—particularly rural students and students of color—are pushed out of leadership tracks, academic success, and opportunities to serve their communities.


Employment

The assault on DEIA is having devastating labor market consequences—especially for Black women. In April 2025 alone, Black women lost 38,000 jobs, a spike in unemployment from 5.1% to 6.1%—the largest increase of any group. That same month, 106,000 more Black women became officially unemployed. Nearly 300,000 Black women have exited or been forced out of the workforce between May and August 2025. A primary driver: mass reductions in federal roles and the systematic dismantling of DEIA in government—Black women saw a staggering 33% decline in federal employment over the year.


What’s at Stake

Taken together, these policy rollbacks amplify disparities in housing, healthcare access, educational opportunity, and employment—especially for those historically marginalized. When civil rights protections are weakened, it’s not abstract—it’s real lives, families, and futures at stake.


Disproportionate Impact on Rural & Other Under-Resourced Communities


Rural communities already face significant barriers to essential services—long travel times to healthcare, limited access to specialty care, underfunded schools, and constrained economic opportunities. For rural Black, Indigenous, Hispanic, and immigrant populations, these challenges are compounded by systemic racism, language barriers, and generational disinvestment. Federal equity-focused programs—such as grants for rural health clinics, hospital stabilization funds, and medical education pipelines that recruit students from underrepresented backgrounds—are critical lifelines.


When civil rights law is reinterpreted to eliminate or weaken equity requirements tied to these funds, it doesn’t just remove “red tape”—it dismantles intentional protections designed to ensure these resources reach the communities most in need. Without those safeguards:


US map showing rural hospital closures by state since 2010. Dark red indicates 10+ closures. Text notes 188 hospitals affected.
Rural hospital risk/closures heat maps — Chartis Center for Rural Health PDF

1. Hospital Closures and Service Reductions: Between 2017 and 2024, a net total of 52 rural hospitals closed across the U.S., with many losing essential services like obstetrics and emergency care. In Texas, more than half of rural hospitals are considered at risk—where closures have been associated with an 8.7% increase in mortality rates. For example, the Thomasville Regional Medical Center in Alabama closed due to financial strain—not from Medicaid or Medicare, but due to underpayments by dominant private insurers. 

Federal Medicaid cuts are poised to devastate rural health systems. Kansas and Missouri are grappling with imminent threats to hospital viability, with providers already preparing for closure scenarios. In Oklahoma, nearly half of its 90 rural hospitals are at risk of closure, threatening emergency, maternity, and primary care access. Nationwide, more than 700 rural hospitals are currently in jeopardy. 


2. Collapsing Workforce Pipelines

Federal initiatives like the U.S. Health Resources and Services Administration’s rural residency training programs account for only 2% of Medicare-funded resident training—but are vital for rural clinician retention. Without continued support, rural regions will face chronic shortages of primary and specialist care.


3. Medicaid Cuts and Economic Decline

Proposed reductions of $155 billion in Medicaid over the next decade threaten to undermine rural healthcare entirely. Even the $50 billion Rural Health Transformation Program intended to mitigate these cuts is insufficient—funding that fails to account for state-level rural population needs is unlikely to avert hospital shutdowns. Medicaid cuts also imperil rural hospital infrastructure by prompting service curtailments such as obstetrics and leading to the closure of clinics and nursing homes. 


4. Economic Fallout and Service Disruption

Rural hospitals are often major local employers; their closure leads to job losses and erodes the local economy. Additionally, communities suffer from reduced public health services and diminished trust in healthcare systems. 


5. Cultural and Social Isolation

Rural clinics and media—such as PBS and NPR affiliates—often serve as vital sources of education and emergency information. Funding cuts to public broadcasting (e.g., Basin PBS and Marfa Public Radio) further isolate remote communities and limit timely access to critical health awareness 


Why It Matters


Stripping equity mandates away from rural funding not only exacerbates healthcare disparities but destabilizes entire communities. The winners are institutions unaccountable for equitable care, while the most vulnerable—rural residents, BIPOC, immigrants, and LGBTQIA+ individuals—lose access, voice, and resources. This is not just a policy failure—it’s a moral crisis.


Revisiting King’s Vision


Civil rights laws were meant to expand justice, not retract it. They were designed to dismantle systemic barriers—not erect new ones under a different name. When civil rights language is weaponized to erase equity, our democracy corrodes, and the promise of justice is hollowed out.


As was described in his eulogy, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. “died striving to desegregate and integrate America to the end that this great nation of ours, born in revolution and blood, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created free and equal, will truly become the lighthouse of freedom where none will be denied because his skin is black and none favored because his eyes are blue; where our nation will be militarily strong but perpetually at peace; economically secure but just; learned but wise; where the poorest — the garbage collectors — will have bread enough and to spare; where no one will be poorly housed; each educated up to his capacity; and where the richest will understand the meaning of empathy.” His legacy spoke to abundance and fairness, not scarcity and fear.


Thurgood Marshall reminded us that “We can run from each other but we cannot escape each other. We will only attain freedom if we learn to appreciate what is different and muster the courage to discover what is fundamentally the same. America’s diversity offers so much richness and opportunity. Take a chance, won’t you? Knock down the fences that divide. Tear apart the walls that imprison. Reach out, freedom lies just on the other side. We should have liberty for all.” When civil rights protections are repurposed to shield those already holding disproportionate power, those fences and walls grow higher, keeping marginalized communities locked out of the very liberties the law was intended to secure.


As Shirley Chisholm, the first Black woman in Congress, once said: “Of course laws will not eliminate prejudice from the hearts of human beings. But that is no reason to allow prejudice to continue to be enshrined in our laws–to perpetuate injustice through inaction.” Her words are a sharp reminder that legal frameworks must be tools for dismantling inequity, not fortifying it. When policymakers twist civil rights language to block access for marginalized communities, they are not eradicating bias—they are codifying it, ensuring that injustice is preserved under the veneer of legality.


Conclusion


To honor these leaders’ legacies, we must reject the cynical misuse of civil rights language and recommit to policies that expand access, protect the vulnerable, and build the bridges they fought to cross.


Civil rights language must remain a tool for liberation, not a cover for exclusion. As King, Marshall, and Chisholm remind us, the work of equity is not abstract—it is lived in policies, workplaces, schools, and communities. The question is whether we will allow old fences to be rebuilt under new names, or commit to tearing them down for good.


At Sharon Washington Consulting, we help leaders and institutions turn this commitment into practice—through frameworks, tools, and strategies that align values with action. If you’d like a starting place, download our Grounding Assessment Checklist—a free resource designed to help teams recognize where they stand and what’s needed to build cultures of equity, resilience, and belonging.



Because justice isn’t sustained by language alone—it’s sustained by leaders who choose to act.

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