In December 2025, the University of Alabama found itself at the center of a heated national debate after suspending two prominent student magazines, Alice and Nineteen Fifty-Six. The move, which university officials attributed to a Justice Department memo, has ignited concerns over free speech, diversity, and the future of student voices on campus. Both publications—one dedicated to women’s issues and the other to the experiences of Black students—were abruptly halted, leaving many to wonder what their absence might mean for the university community.
According to NPR, the university cited a memo from the Trump administration’s Justice Department as the primary reason for the suspensions. The memo, part of a broader federal effort to curb what it considers discriminatory diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) policies, has been interpreted by many as a direct challenge to campus-based initiatives supporting marginalized groups. Yet, the same administration has also emphasized the importance of free speech protections in higher education, creating a complex and, some say, contradictory environment for student expression.
Kendal Wright, a senior at the University of Alabama and editor-in-chief of Nineteen Fifty-Six, spoke candidly about the impact of the university’s decision. “I mean, it means everything. The point was campus, and other people would get a better understanding of our experiences on campus, as well as give Black students on campus a place to talk about them. So to kind of have that taken away was definitely, you know, upsetting and kind of like a slap in the face,” Wright told NPR.
The suspension of the magazines is not an isolated event. It follows the passage of Alabama state bill 129 approximately a year ago, which led to the removal of the Black student union office and other LGBTQIA+ safe spaces. The bill also resulted in the renaming of many former DEI spaces on campus, signaling a broader shift in the university’s approach to diversity and inclusion. Wright reflected on this context, saying, “I think it's definitely a part of a bigger issue that's definitely been happening. The state of Alabama passed the state bill 129, which passed, I believe, a year ago and kind of resulted in the removal of our Black student union office as well as other LGBTQIA+ safe spaces and things like that on campus and kind of resulted in the renaming of a lot of former diversity, equity and inclusion spaces. So this event and that kind of ties into what I believe is a bigger issue.”
For many students and alumni, the loss of these magazines represents more than just the absence of printed pages. It’s about the erasure of vital platforms where underrepresented voices could share their stories, struggles, and triumphs. Wright described the personal toll of the news: “I don't know. It just—it hurt. It was—it took a lot of time to process. It took me a couple of days before I could really feel like I could put my feelings into action.”
Despite the setback, there has been a determined effort to keep the spirit of these publications alive. The alumni organization Masthead quickly rallied, organizing a fundraiser in record time to support the spring issues of both Alice and Nineteen Fifty-Six. “So the alumni organization Masthead—they so graciously heard about everything that was happening and banded together in record time to put a fundraiser together for both us and Alice that would raise enough money to allow us to print our spring issues. So that was something super, super special,” Wright explained. The outpouring of support from alumni and the broader community underscores the magazines’ significance and the resilience of those determined to preserve them.
Over the years, Nineteen Fifty-Six has tackled a wide range of topics central to the Black student experience at Alabama. Wright highlighted some of the magazine’s most meaningful issues: “We've done issues pertaining to Black love and kind of all the intricacies and nuances of it. Another issue we did was Multitudes—it was actually a double issue—Multitudes and Southern Charm. And Multitudes kind of talked about the intersectionality of Black people and how you're not just Black, but you can be a medley of different things and a culmination of all the experiences that you've ever had and that, you know, we're not all a monolith. And then on the flip side, Southern Charm was kind of like a deeper dive into what it's like being a Black person in the South. And we also did an issue on education and being a Black person in education and kind of, you know, what it's like being on campus, as well as learning in different fields and what it's like to navigate those.”
The loss of these stories, according to Wright, would be deeply felt across campus. “I think so many people would lose their voice. You know, there's always—they can, you know, publish things independently, but to have a place on campus that had support and just a general funneling of where they could put those stories in those places is something that was super important in that if, you know, we didn't continue a pursuit of operation, that they would lose that space,” she said.
The university’s decision has sparked a broader conversation about the balancing act between federal and state directives, free speech, and the preservation of spaces for minority voices. Supporters of the suspensions argue that DEI initiatives can sometimes cross the line into exclusionary practices, and that universities must comply with federal guidelines to ensure fairness for all students. On the other hand, critics contend that such actions disproportionately silence marginalized groups, undermining the very principles of academic freedom and open dialogue that universities are meant to uphold.
This tension is not unique to Alabama. Across the country, colleges and universities are grappling with similar challenges as they navigate evolving legal and political landscapes. The Trump administration’s Justice Department memo, referenced by the University of Alabama, is just one example of the growing scrutiny facing DEI programs nationwide. While some see these measures as necessary corrections to overreaching policies, others view them as dangerous rollbacks that threaten hard-won progress.
In the midst of this debate, the experiences of students like Wright serve as a poignant reminder of what’s at stake. The stories published in Nineteen Fifty-Six and Alice have offered insight, fostered empathy, and built community in ways that go far beyond the printed page. Their suspension raises urgent questions about who gets to tell their stories—and who gets to listen.
As the spring semester approaches, the future of these magazines remains uncertain. Thanks to the efforts of Masthead and other supporters, their voices may yet find a way to endure. But the broader struggle over free speech, inclusion, and the role of student media at the University of Alabama—and across the nation—shows no signs of fading anytime soon.
