Rev. Dr. F. Willis Johnson, Jr., VP of Partnerships and Programming with the Bridge Alliance, is respected for his leadership and strategies around social and racial justice issues.
Johnson shares his thoughts and reflections on Indigenous Peoples' Day.
The National Museum of African American History and Culture, a Smithsonian museum with unique exhibits on African American history, culture & community, Washington, D.C., USA
Recently, I sat in my museum’s annual public programming meeting, expecting the usual work of dreaming up the next year: what our community needs and what children deserve. But when Florida’s anti-DEI measure, SB 1134, came up, the room shifted from possibility to fear.
That meeting is usually the best part of our jobs. This time, however, the conversation turned to risk: what would become too dangerous to defend and what would be dropped before anyone even had to tell us to drop it. One of our managers finally said, “Culture is dead.” What I heard was more precise: culture is not dead. It is being killed.
When our history is wiped from the very institutions that are supposed to teach us who we are, we are cutting children off from the stories that should anchor them. Florida has a long history of this—from the Ocoee massacre in 1920 to Rosewood in 1923. This country has long known how to attack what gives marginalized people strength, from the federal boarding school system for Native children to today’s censorship.
And museums need to decide, right now, who we are in this moment.
The threat is no longer theoretical; it is a documented federal and cultural campaign. In March 2025, the Trump administration issued an executive order targeting the Smithsonian Institution, accusing the National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC) of promoting a “race-centered ideology.” As reported by AP News, this order empowers officials to prohibit programs deemed to “divide Americans based on race,” essentially moving to sanitize the uncomfortable truths of slavery and Jim Crow.
The "so what?" of this issue is found in the physical removal of history. Recent reports from NBC4 Washington confirm that artifacts like an 1880 book by Rev. George Washington Williams and a Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Bible were returned to their owners following federal pressure on the NMAAHC. While some cite routine loan rotations, the timing fuels a broader climate of fear. When oversight turns into censorship, it undermines the public’s right to know the full history of racial injustice.
This impact ripples outward. Museums like the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel, though not under federal control, are now battling donor withdrawals and school district hesitancy to host visits. Corporate sponsors are increasingly avoiding “controversial” history to escape political blowback. As a result, we are seeing reduced attendance and program eliminations that strip communities of their "truth-tellers."
As someone in museum education, I worry most about the human cost. I have seen what happens when a child recognizes themselves in history. So when I ask what museums should do now, the answer is simple: tell the truth, protect the educators, and stay accountable to the communities we serve. A history museum that cannot tell history honestly is no longer doing its job; it is just storage. If, in the name of being “nonpartisan,” museums retreat from their responsibility, they become just another venue where fear wins.
Protecting our nonpartisan role does not require silence. It requires honesty. Reflecting the full reality of our communities is not a political act; it is public service. Museums cannot just issue careful statements. They have to fight for inclusive education in public and with legislators. If museums want to call themselves civic institutions, this is the moment to prove it.
Once an institution shows what it will surrender under pressure, the public believes it. We have already seen the consequences of following political winds. After Target scaled back parts of its DEI agenda in January 2025, it faced a massive boycott. Reuters later reported that the backlash hurt sales while the company's market value plummeted. This should be a warning to every museum: when you abandon the people who trusted you, the cost is not only moral—it is public, reputational, and financial.
We cannot celebrate culture when it is marketable and abandon it when it becomes politically inconvenient. History will remember who stood as a community anchor and who became an accomplice to erasure. Our museums are resilient, but they cannot stand alone. They belong to us, and it is our responsibility to ensure they remain the truth-tellers our nation desperately needs.
Secretary of Labor Lori Chavez-DeRemer arrives to the chambers of the U.S. House of Representatives ahead of President Trump's State of the Union address on February 24, 2026. (Nathan Posner/Anadolu/Getty Images)
President Donald Trump’s second Cabinet was never exceptionally diverse from the start. And in the past two months, three women have been fired or resigned.
The first to go, on March 5, was ex-Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem, the face of the Trump administration’s mass deportation agenda. Then, less than a month later, Trump ousted former Attorney General Pam Bondi. And on Monday, embattled Labor Secretary Lori Chavez-DeRemer announced her resignation.
“Labor Secretary Lori Chavez-DeRemer will be leaving the Administration to take a position in the private sector,” White House communications director Steven Cheung said in a statement. “She has done a phenomenal job in her role by protecting American workers, enacting fair labor practices, and helping Americans gain additional skills to improve their lives.”
Chavez-DeRemer, a former Republican congresswoman from Oregon, has found herself embroiled in several scandals and was the subject of an internal misconduct investigation during her time leading the Labor Department. Chavez-DeRemer had been one of two Latinx Cabinet secretaries, along with Secretary of State Marco Rubio.
Only 17 percent of Trump’s second-term Cabinet nominees were non-White, according to a 2025 Washington Post analysis. But compared with his last term, more women have been in Cabinet and other high-level roles: Women initially made up 37 percent of his second-term Cabinet, up from 17 percent. Trump also tapped Susie Wiles as the first woman to serve as White House chief of staff.
Former President Joe Biden’s Cabinet was the most diverse in history: 48 percent of those who served in his Cabinet were non-White, and 45 percent were women.
All three women former Cabinet members had received public blowback for various aspects of their performance in their roles. Noem’s Department of Homeland Security drew nationwide outrage for its aggressive approach to immigration enforcement in major cities, especially after federal immigration officials shot and killed two U.S. citizens, Renee Good and Alex Pretti, in Minneapolis.
Bondi received bipartisan criticism and scrutiny for the Department of Justice’s handling of its files related to Jeffrey Epstein, though Trump’s impetus for firing her was reportedly that he was frustrated about the DOJ not moving aggressively enough to prosecute his political foes.
Chavez-DeRemer was the subject of an internal investigation into allegations of fraud and misconduct at the department, The New York Times reported. They included complaints of a toxic work environment from staffers who said they were asked to perform personal errands for Chavez-DeRemer and her husband, Dr. Shawn DeRemer, who was reportedly banned from the Labor Department’s headquarters for making unwanted sexual advances toward women staffers.
Investigators also reviewed personal texts from Chavez-DeRemer, her father and her husband to young women staffers at the department, including requests to bring her alcohol on trips, The Times reported.
Deputy Labor Secretary Keith Sonderling will take over as acting head of the department, according to Cheung.
While Trump’s Cabinet has been remarkably more stable than in his first term, the jobs of a number of other high-ranking officials have been rumored to be in trouble.
Tulsi Gabbard, a former Democratic congresswoman from Hawaii who switched parties and became part of the MAGA coalition, was confirmed last year as the nation’s chief intelligence official. She is the only Pacific Islander member of Trump’s Cabinet. The Guardian reported that Trump was asking advisers whether he should replace Gabbard after she declined to denounce a deputy, Joe Kent, who resigned over his disagreements over the U.S. war with Iran.
The women remaining in Trump’s Cabinet are Gabbard; , Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins;, Education Secretary Linda McMahon; and Kelly Loeffler, head of the Small Business Administration.
FBI Director Kash Patel and Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick have both also drawn criticism and speculation that their jobs were on the line.
Trump has, at times, sidelined women and not punished men in his administration who have found themselves in hot water. He initially nominated Rep. Elise Stefanik of New York as his ambassador to the United Nations, but withdrew her nomination amid concerns over Republicans’ narrow House majority.
After his national security adviser, Mike Waltz, added a journalist to a Signal group chat where he and other top Trump administration officials were discussing military operations, Waltz was fired from his post last spring but instead took the position of UN ambassador. Rubio has since been serving as the acting national security adviser.
In Two Months, Trump’s Cabinet Has Lost Three Women was originally published by The 19th and is republished with permission.
Amid rising tensions with Iran, critics warn Trump-era military policies, discrimination, and leadership decisions are weakening U.S. readiness and national security.
As Trump’s War in Iran causes unprecedented global volatility, revealing significant weaknesses in our military, the President and his Secretary of War can’t seem to stop playing the politics of prejudice. A year ago, without explanation, Hegseth fired the first ever female Chief of Naval Operations and the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, a Black man. The latter was an F-16 pilot who once said in a recruitment commercial: “When I’m flying…You don’t know…whether I’m African American…You just know I’m an American Airman, kicking your butt.” Turns out when he wasn’t flying his boss figured out his race and kicked him off his post. Now, Hegseth has interfered with promotions for over a dozen Black and female senior officers across all branches, including blocking four outstanding Army officers–two Black men and two women–from becoming one-star generals. What was presented as "anti-woke" posturing is clearly little more than a thinly-veiled and targeted culture war. These racist, sexist, superficial “leaders” gotta go.
The war against wokeness is morally and strategically wrong, distracting us all from real missions. Instead of swiftly ending an ill-defined, illegal, indefinite war with Iran (that is not going well, to say the least) or addressing an ongoing manpower shortage, Hegseth went out of his way to unilaterally stop the advancement of four diverse officers with long careers of “exemplary service,” despite questionable legal authority to do so and against the counsel of the Secretary of the Army. Allegations of racial and gender bias are apropos, but it’s also just plain stupid. Roughly 43% of active duty troops are people of color while their leadership is overwhelmingly white, and women are leaving the military at a rate 28% higher than men. At a time when the military could use all the talent it can get, why is Hegseth keeping competent leaders from leading and disqualifying and disenfranchising over half the talent pool?
Perhaps white men are assumed to be likelier Trump-loyalists, but another answer is embarrassingly pathetic: aesthetics. Trump has frequently mused that the troops should look like they are from "central casting,” refusing to stand next to a Black female officer for this reason, endorsing fat shaming, and even saying he didn’t “want any wounded guys” in his birthday party parade because it wouldn’t “look good.” No wonder he’s treating war like it’s a spectacle of entertainment–he is less concerned with military effectiveness than he is with its image. Perhaps Trump and Hegseth’s combat fantasies will only be realized once the ranks resemble G.I. Joe action figures: white, traditionally masculine, and–like dolls–ideologically neutral and compliant. Women, people of color, and potential dissenters need not apply.
I got selected in 2024 to advance to Lieutenant Commander, which was fortunate timing. Despite being a decorated aviator, I was still a queer woman who, while active duty, had gone to and graduated law school in my free time, further equipping me to identify and challenge any unconstitutional orders; I probably wouldn’t have lasted much longer if Hegseth caught wind. To that end, Admiral Alvin Holsey, a Black officer who dared to question the legality of the boat strikes in the Caribbean, was pushed out by Hegseth. I served with Admiral Holsey, flew in his air wing, was inspired by his leadership then, and still am, but it seems Hegseth would prefer a white man with a criminal record over a qualified leader with integrity. To a regime fueled by lies, integrity is a dangerous liability.
Meanwhile, social media’s Jessica Foster, the AI-generated U.S. Army dream girl, reveals how MAGA vanguard likes their women: white, petite, perpetually posing for their pleasure and posting propaganda, and not actually in the military. Foster wears non-regulation mini-skirts and high heels, puts her feet on desks, and directs followers to her OnlyFans–transgressions likely to result in disciplinary action for a real soldier. Nevertheless, perhaps because this fake woman satisfies the cosmetic cravings of the MAGA movement and doesn’t talk back, she is thanked for her service and for championing the Trump cause.
While distraction abounds, bigots are building a force that presents more and more like the klan. Trump appointed Hegseth–an accused sex offender who railed against women in combat roles and referred to someone who choked a Black man to death as “an American hero”–to be our Secretary of War. Accordingly, Hegseth issued orders to “go light” on celebrating the end of slavery, removed Black, Latino, and female memorials from the Arlington National Cemetery website, and invited white Christian nationalist Doug Wilson, who believes women shouldn’t have the right to vote, to preach to the troops. They are peddling the Great Replacement Theory and overhauling military personnel policies in a blatantly discriminatory way.
To attempt to justify their actions, they hide under a banner of restoring merit and lethality. White House Press Secretary Leavitt even said—with the credibility of AI slop—that Hegseth is “doing a tremendous job restoring meritocracy throughout the ranks…as President Trump directed…” This is profoundly ironic, as the Pentagon just raised the enlistment age to 42 and eased restrictions on past marijuana convictions. There is nothing inherently wrong with letting some old stoners serve their country, but it is audacious to boast about merit and lethality while hiring 41-year-old recruits with drug waivers and firing seasoned commanders with decades of experience. If Trump and Hegseth were ever fooling anyone, the jig is up.
As we wade deeper into war, a gang of sociopaths is sabotaging our national security, but we can stop them. We can call out chauvinism when we see it, insist offenders answer for it, and contact our reps, demanding investigations, impeachments, and increased transparency and accountability from the Pentagon. Plus, while this regime desperately tries to control the narrative and even criminalize reporters who ask “unauthorized” questions, there’s never been a better time to support journalism. Stay curious and keep reading the news. It will be harder for Trump and Hegseth to turn the world’s most professional fighting force into political muscle if we’re all watching.Julie Roland was a Naval Officer for ten years, deploying to both the South China Sea and the Persian Gulf as a helicopter pilot before separating in June 2025 as a Lieutenant Commander. She has a law degree from the University of San Diego, a Master of Laws from Columbia University, and is a member of the Truman National Security Project.
As the United States nears its 250th anniversary, Rev. Dr. F. Willis Johnson explores the nation’s founding contradictions, enduring racial inequalities, and the ongoing struggle to align democratic ideals with reality.
As the United States approaches its 250th birthday, the nation confronts a moment that should stir both celebration and sober reflection. A quarter millennium is no small achievement in the long arc of human governance. Republics have faltered far sooner. Yet anniversaries, especially ones of this magnitude, are not merely commemorations of survival. These observances are invitations to take inventory. Thus, demanding that we ask not only what we have built, but what we have become.
The American story is told in two intertwined registers. One is triumphant: a daring rebellion reshaping political thought, expanding liberty. The other is quieter and often suppressed: a republic professing universal rights while sanctioning human bondage, preaching equality but benefiting only a select few. In our 250th year, we are invited to see these two narratives as inseparable, each shaping and challenging the other.
For those of us who inherit both America's ideals and its failures, the upcoming anniversary brings a complex sense of hope and heaviness. As a fifty-one-year-old Black American, trained to interrogate history rather than accept it at face value, I cannot ignore the contradictions at the nation’s origins. The same parchment that boldly declared “all men are created equal” was signed in a country where my ancestors were denied their humanity. This is not an aside to the American story; it is at its center. A century later, James Baldwin expressed the same tension, writing that he loved America more than any other country in the world and, for that reason, insisted on the right to criticize her perpetually. Their patriotism, like mine, was not sentimental but demanding. It was the patriotism of those who believe the American creed is worth holding accountable and worth redeeming.
That tension remains unresolved today. Two hundred and fifty years have not erased the color line that W.E.B. Du Bois described as the defining problem of the twentieth century; the divide between Black and white Americans and the system of racial separation that governed so much of the nation's life. If anything, this color line has proven remarkably adaptable, reappearing in the persistent segregation of schools and neighborhoods, the disproportionate incarceration of people of color, and enduring racial wealth gaps. The right to vote, once secured through the sacrifices of abolitionists and civil rights activists, has again become a contested terrain. Disinformation circulates with unprecedented speed, turning the public square into an arena where facts themselves are up for negotiation.
Such conditions tempt a nation toward two extremes: nostalgia for a mythic, unified past and fatalism that democracy is nearing its end. Both positions misread the American project. The United States has never been stable or morally settled. It is, and has always been, an argument about who belongs and what freedom requires.
To understand the significance of the 250th anniversary, we must resist the urge to see the founding as a finished achievement. The Constitution was not meant to be a monument, but a framework open to revision and debate. American progress has never come from complacency. It has advanced through the efforts of abolitionists, suffragists, labor organizers, civil rights activists, and countless citizens who refused to accept imposed boundaries. Our democracy survives because of persistent dissent and the willingness to challenge what has come before. As we approach this milestone, the real test is not only whether the nation has endured, but whether it has learned from its past.
Learning, in this context, means telling the truth about the past without falling into cynicism or myth. It means acknowledging that the American experiment began in contradiction and required generations of struggle to align ideals with reality. Expanding democracy did not diminish the founding vision, but furthered it.
For America to thrive for another 250 years, the republic must protect the mechanisms through which citizens hold leaders accountable. The right to vote should serve as the bedrock of legitimacy, not as a tool for partisan gain. It is just as vital to confront economic inequalities that threaten the middle class and erode faith in social mobility. These responsibilities also extend beyond our borders, as the nation navigates a world where democratic norms face growing pressure. Crucially, we must recognize that America is not a completed story, but an ongoing negotiation between aspiration and reality. The changing place of those previously excluded. Those who were denied, later contested, and are now indispensable. Revealing something central about the country itself—America's promise grows stronger only when those at its margins make their voices heard.
This is why the most honest form of patriotism may be the kind that refuses to flatter the nation into complacency. The prophets of American democracy, like Frederick Douglass, the journalist and activist Ida B. Wells, the author and essayist James Baldwin, and the civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr., did not love the country despite its contradictions. They loved it by confronting them. Their critique was based on the conviction that the ideals set forth in 1776 make a just society possible. The 250th anniversary is not merely a birthday. It is a test.
The test is whether Americans can summon the civic imagination required to extend democracy into the next century. Can the nation move beyond the reflexive tribalism that has come to dominate political life? Can it build institutions resilient enough to withstand the pressures of misinformation and the temptation of authoritarianism? Can it cultivate a public ethic that recognizes diversity not as a threat but as a source of democratic vitality? The answers to those questions will not be determined by commemorative speeches. They will be determined by the everyday choices of citizens, who decide whether democracy is something they practice or merely inherit.
As one of America’s darker sons, I write not to indict but to lament. The American experiment is incomplete, its history marked by both failure and renewal. Each generation inherits unfinished work. The story of our nation will not be written by those who turn away from its challenges, but by those who confront its complexities with honesty and resolve. As we approach 250 years, let our patriotism be measured by our willingness to strive for a more just and inclusive future. This milestone is not just a time to remember, but a charge to build the America that its highest ideals promise. The next chapter depends on all of us.
Rev. Dr. F. Willis Johnson is a spiritual entrepreneur, author, scholar-practioner whose leadership and strategies around social and racial justice issues are nationally recognized and applied.
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