Federal Targets, Local Consequences: How Trump’s Executive Order Threatens Education in Michigan

Must read

Ebony JJ Curry, Senior Reporter
Ebony JJ Curry, Senior Reporterhttp://www.ebonyjjcurry.com
Ebony JJ is a master journalist who has an extensive background in all areas of journalism with an emphasis on impactful stories highlighting the advancement of the Black community through politics, economic development, community, and social justice. She serves as senior reporter and can be reached via email: ecurry@michronicle.com Keep in touch via IG: @thatssoebony_

Detroit classrooms are no stranger to policy shifts, but this moment feels different. Families across the city are bracing for the fallout of an executive order that could shake the foundation of public education as we know it.

An executive order signed last Thursday by former President Donald Trump aims to move toward shutting down the U.S. Department of Education. That same department oversees student loans, investigates civil rights complaints, and ensures funding for students with disabilities. Yet Trump called it unnecessary and claimed it’s “doing us no good.” What does that mean for Michigan’s Black students, already learning under strained conditions? The truth is, this executive order might not close the department tomorrow, but it sends a signal that resonates far beyond Capitol Hill. It’s a message aimed directly at the backbone of our public education system—and the message is clear: dismantle and redistribute.

The order directs Education Secretary Linda McMahon to start evaluating how to reduce the department’s mission. Trump cannot close it without Congress, but that doesn’t mean damage can’t be done. The department’s current $268 billion budget covers responsibilities that matter deeply in cities like Detroit. This includes programs that protect the rights of disabled children, deliver federal student loans, and offer support for students living in poverty.

Michigan House Republicans wasted no time showing their support. Just hours after Trump’s announcement, they passed a resolution along party lines endorsing the department’s elimination. State Representative Tim Kelly of Saginaw Township, one of the resolution’s chief sponsors, said, “Far too few kids are receiving the education they deserve, and big government at the federal level has only undermined students, parents and teachers.” He continued, “Throughout its 45-year history, the U.S. Department of Education has been part of the problem, not the solution.”

That sentiment landed like a slap in the face to educators and parents who see the department as one of the few resources left offering consistency. Democratic lawmakers, including Representative Regina Weiss of Oak Park, criticized the move, saying, “This resolution is focused on destroying the very systems that support our kids, teachers and our higher education across the state.” Those systems include critical support for children experiencing homelessness, English learners, and low-income families—all of whom live in communities where Black and brown students are often overrepresented and underserved.

Detroit Public Schools Community District Superintendent Nikolai Vitti made it plain: cuts like these will have consequences. Vitti said funding reductions would hit free lunch programs and special education hardest—both essential to Black families trying to make ends meet. That’s no hypothetical. That’s the food our babies rely on, the services that ensure students with disabilities receive the support they’re owed.

The numbers speak volumes. Michigan is expected to receive $535 million in federal Title I funds for fiscal year 2025, based on how many students live in poverty. That’s money directly supporting schools that serve our most vulnerable youth. Additionally, the state budget includes $450 million in federal Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) funds, providing vital resources for children who often get pushed to the margins.

None of this exists in a vacuum. The department also manages federal student aid—including Pell Grants and the Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA)—which many Detroiters depend on to pursue higher education. Though Trump promised Thursday to preserve Pell Grants and other aid, it’s unclear how future policies under this order would operate. The executive order calls for eliminating programs that “promote gender ideology” and “diversity, equity, and inclusion,” terms often weaponized to target the very programs created to uplift Black students, LGBTQ+ youth, and other marginalized communities.

The executive order requires McMahon to ensure that funding aligns with “administration policy,” and that means institutions could lose funding for continuing to use what the administration deems “illegal discrimination obscured under the label ‘diversity, equity, and inclusion.’” That language isn’t neutral. It’s coded. And it places programs designed to acknowledge racial disparities directly under attack.

Late last month, the Department of Education launched an “End DEI” online portal encouraging parents to report what they consider discriminatory practices. That, paired with recent efforts to prioritize school choice and diminish support for public schools, reveals a broader strategy: redirect funds, not necessarily cut them. That redirection could lead to block grants sent to states with fewer regulations, opening the door for private schools and homeschool programs to claim a larger piece of the federal pie.

Michigan currently has a constitutional amendment barring public dollars from being used for private school tuition. That could change depending on how federal policies influence state decisions. McMahon’s recent memo to education department employees made her goals clear: promote school choice and evaluate programs based on alignment with administration priorities. That’s a thinly veiled push to defund public education under the banner of “freedom.”

Federal education mandates have historically helped push the needle on issues states once ignored—desegregation, civil rights enforcement, and disability inclusion among them. Moving those core functions to other federal agencies might look bureaucratic on paper, but in practice, it weakens accountability. Who ensures children in Detroit, Flint, Benton Harbor, or Inkster get what they need if oversight disappears?

Michigan House Speaker Matt Hall cheered the move, saying, “We can work together as a state to set these curriculums in a way that will work much better than what we’re seeing.” Hall said, “We shouldn’t want a great federal bureaucracy that we don’t have access to to make these decisions for us.” Yet access to education should never depend on ZIP code or local politics. That’s the entire point of federal standards: to protect students from inequality baked into regional governance.

The broader concern is whether these executive orders hold legal weight or are being used to push an ideological agenda. Many of Trump’s past executive actions have faced legal challenges—and this one likely will, too. But even proposals that don’t become law can shift policy and perception. They create a chilling effect. They invite states to rethink their commitments. They give school boards permission to roll back protections under the guise of local control.

Higher education is at risk as well. The Department of Education funds critical research at public universities, including institutions like Wayne State University and the University of Michigan. Recent layoffs in federal grant management departments raise questions about whether future research funds will be delayed or cut altogether. The ripple effect touches every corner of our state, from first-grade reading assessments to doctoral dissertations.

Loan forgiveness programs also remain in the crosshairs. Trump’s order asks McMahon to revise rules so that borrowers who work at organizations with a “substantial illegal purpose” become ineligible for public service loan forgiveness. That’s a vague statement that leaves room for political interpretation—especially if advocacy groups or reproductive health clinics are targeted.

Michigan’s scholarships and financial aid programs often align with federal systems. Any shake-up at the national level puts those state programs in jeopardy. The pressure lands squarely on working-class families—many of whom are Black—trying to break generational cycles through education. The system already requires a roadmap and a miracle just to access the funds. More bureaucracy only creates more barriers.

At its core, this executive order challenges the very definition of public education. Who it serves. What it stands for. Who gets to shape it. That’s not just political rhetoric—that’s policy that shapes lives.

Detroit knows what it looks like when systems are stripped down. We’ve seen emergency managers override local control. We’ve watched schools close, funding shrink, and students left behind. And now, another wave of erasure is headed our way—under the banner of reform.

Educators, parents, students, and community members will need to remain vigilant. Every policy proposal, every funding shift, every bureaucratic memo should be met with questions, clarity, and collective response. Detroit doesn’t have the luxury of watching this from the sidelines. Our students, our schools, and our future sit at the center of this national experiment.

This is more than an executive order. This is a call to action.

Back To Paradise

spot_img