Can school districts still work to close persistent achievement gaps in an era when race-targeted interventions may violate federal law? That question is no longer hypothetical. The Trump administration has signaled that any program explicitly aimed at students by race could run afoul of civil rights laws. Following the Supreme Court’s decision in Students for Fair Admissions v. Harvard—which barred race-conscious admissions in higher ed—federal officials have extended its logic to K–12, now arguing that using race—even to expand opportunity—constitutes discrimination under Title VI. This reframing casts efforts like targeted funding or DEI initiatives not as remedies for inequity, but as violations of the very laws once used to justify them.
If this interpretation of the law holds up in the coming months and years, states and districts will need to rethink how they deliver support. Rather than designing programs specifically around race, they should instead focus on students who are low-income, low-performing, or chronically absent—groups that face significant barriers to success and often overlap with historically underserved populations. This approach, long championed by advocates of class-based reform, may gain new traction as legal pressures continue to mount. Though not yet widespread, it’s a shift that education leaders may increasingly have to consider.
Los Angeles Unified School District has already been forced to adapt. After launching a $120 million program focused on improving outcomes for Black students—who significantly trail their peers in academic achievement—the district received a complaint alleging racial discrimination. In response, it revised the program’s eligibility criteria, dropping race as an official factor. That change removed a key focus on a set of schools serving a disproportionate share of Black students, potentially diluting the program’s impact.
Chicago may soon face a similar reckoning. The U.S. Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights is investigating a new initiative aimed at boosting performance among Black students in the district, more than 90 percent of whom are not on grade level in math, and nearly 80 percent of whom fall short in reading. These sobering figures underscore the urgency of the program, which was conceived as a direct response to a crisis in academic achievement. Yet the federal investigation, regardless of its final ruling, is likely to have a chilling effect on any future efforts to target interventions for student populations deemed suspect under civil rights laws.
To be sure, the skepticism towards Los Angeles’s and Chicago’s programs are not without merit. The districts’ plans emphasize “identity, culture, and voice” and “culturally responsive pedagogy” while giving short shrift to the nuts and bolts of good instruction—raising legitimate questions about their commitment to improving academic outcomes in reading and math. Chicago’s effort isn’t even a fully formed plan at this point. Compounding these concerns, both districts earned notoriety for keeping schools closed longer than most during the pandemic, worsening the very inequities their new initiatives now seek to address.
What’s more, there’s a reasonable argument that subgroup-specific programming can distract from the goal of universal academic improvement. In Houston, for instance, recent gains have stemmed from a districtwide focus on instructional rigor, driven by a controversial but results-oriented state intervention. Rather than organizing supports around racial or cultural identity, the district has emphasized a coherent academic core—anchored by high-quality curriculum, frequent progress monitoring, and intensive tutoring. Early indicators suggest this universal approach has produced meaningful improvement across student groups, reinforcing the idea that strong teaching and learning can be the most equitable intervention of all.
Still, the legal and political headwinds do not absolve school systems of their responsibility to remedy deep-seated disparities. Rather, they demand greater precision and discipline. If race can no longer be an organizing principle, then districts must become more adept at using data to identify and support students facing the greatest barriers to success—whether due to poverty, academic challenges, or attendance. In this environment, the challenge is not just compliance, but creativity: finding lawful, effective ways to advance equity (properly understood) without losing sight of the students who have historically been left behind.
Which is to say, perhaps there is a silver lining to all of this. Stripping away race-based criteria could push districts to re-center their efforts on students who are academically behind, regardless of background. After all, not every Black student is low-performing, and not every low-performing student is Black. By focusing more intently on measurable student growth and achievement, districts may be prompted to design interventions that are not only more precise but also more effective, addressing the real disparities in academic outcomes without the need for racial labels. This shift could ultimately foster a more robust approach to education—one rooted in achievement rather than identity.
