Still Separate, Still Unequal: Louisiana Turns Its Back on the Promise of Brown
The DOJ just closed the book on a decades-old desegregation order. But for many Black locals, the chapter on equality never ended.
In November 1960, Ruby Bridges, Leona Tate, Gail Etienne, and Tessie Prevost became the faces of resistance, courage, and federally enforced justice in Louisiana. With little more than faith, family, and federal marshals, these four Black girls desegregated New Orleans public schools — at a great personal cost. Their walk was meant to open doors forever.
But now, some of those doors have been closed. And here we are — yet again.
On April 30, the U.S. Department of Justice lifted a decades-old desegregation order in Plaquemines Parish, Louisiana. First enacted in 1966, the federal government signaled that the responsibility for equity no longer rests with the state and that federal oversight is no longer necessary. Officials called the order a “historical wrong.”
But to many families still navigating unequal schools, biased discipline policies, and resegregated districts, it’s not just history. It’s home. And this change, posed as progress, is anything but acceptable.
“We need to vote these outdated, racist folks out of their positions from bottom to top,” Quinn Foster, a Louisiana-based writer and advocate, tells 13th and South. “They’re not fixing anything — they’re erasing what little protection we had left.”
From Brown v. Board to Backslide
It has now been over 70 years since the Supreme Court ruled in Brown v. Board of Education that “separate but equal” was inherently unconstitutional. Yet in 2025, schools in Louisiana and across the South remain deeply segregated — by race, resources, and policy.
More than 130 school systems are still under federal desegregation orders, most in the Deep South. These court-enforced agreements are not symbolic. These orders exist because many districts never dismantled the segregated systems that Brown declared unconstitutional.
Now, under Trump’s second term, those same protections are being quietly rolled back — under the guise of progress. Assistant Attorney General Harmeet Dhillon called the Plaquemines case a relic of the past and a “historical wrong.” Louisiana Attorney General Liz Murrill echoed that sentiment, stating her office would work to close other orders as well, vowing to help school systems “put the past in the past.”
The Present Is Not the Past — It’s the Pattern
That language — “put the past in the past” — might sound harmless. But to Black Louisianians like Foster, it’s a dangerous misrepresentation of the present.
“Donald Trump and his Republican colleagues are pushing restrictive and violent policies and divesting from concerns that affect everyday people in Louisiana,” he says.
“In turn,” he adds, “Louisiana, like other states, has systematically struggled with equitable integration since Brown v. Board. Paul Breaux High School in Lafayette is an unfortunate example. Most of the Parish School Boards are just as crooked as the state politicians.”
For Foster and many others in Louisiana, education is part of a broader system of racial neglect. The desegregation order may have been a legal document, but it symbolized the last thread of federal protection for communities long ignored by their own state leadership.
What’s unfolding now in Louisiana is not progress — it’s resegregation — a return to old patterns under new language.
Research from The Century Foundation and UCLA’s Civil Rights Project has shown that school districts released from court oversight often resegregate within just a few years. Predominantly Black schools become more isolated. Resource disparities widen. School closures and consolidations often disproportionately affect Black and low-income students.
Legal experts, including Tulane University professor Robert Westley, have warned that the DOJ’s latest move signals that the federal commitment to racial equity in education is effectively over: “It’s really just signaling that the backsliding that has started some time ago is complete,” Westley told the Associated Press. “The United States government doesn’t really care anymore about dealing with problems of racial discrimination in the schools. It’s over.”
Resistance in the South Isn’t Over
The South has never accepted injustice quietly. From courtrooms to classrooms, Black Southerners have always been the architects of resistance — and they still are. Foster believes that the solution isn’t to rely on courts closing the door, but to build new openings through community action.
“We, as taxpaying citizens, must put our children's present and future first by going to school board meetings, signing intentional petitions, and consistently contacting our elected officials with our concrete concerns,” he said.
Plaquemines Parish may no longer be under court supervision, but that doesn’t mean the work is done. It means the weight of that work now falls on the community.
Because if the walk Ruby, Leona, Gail, and Tessie made more than six decades ago taught us anything, it’s that sometimes — doors don’t open until we hold them open.
And Louisiana has too much at stake to let them close without a fight.
13 & South is a new publication covering news, investigative stories, and insights on social justice, policy, and systemic inequities impacting Southern Black communities. I value your insights and feedback, and invite your perspectives to contribute to future issues. Please email me at editor@13thandsouth.com. Also, feel free to connect with me on my socials! LinkedIn, Twitter, IG, BlueSky, and Threads.
Really great piece. You give such a fresh perspective on how “progress” is being weaponized to roll back protections that were never fully honored in the first place.
There have been few if any consequences for states that ignore human rights…..by design