It’s Aug. 13, 2025: the first day of my junior year. Students sprawl across the halls, cheerleader chants echo through the gyms and students pack the classrooms. Before students had even stepped into the classroom, however, Texas had already passed two bills that have fundamentally altered student participation and inclusion: Senate Bills 10 and 12.
Signed into law by Gov. Greg Abbott in June 2025, Senate Bills 10 and 12 attack two fundamental student rights: the separation of church and state and diversity and inclusion. Under Senate Bill 10, all Texas public schools are required to display a framed Ten Commandments poster in every classroom, imbuing Christian doctrine in the supposedly secular space of a classroom.
Senate Bill 12, signed just a day before SB 10 on June 20, 2025, similarly affects student inclusion: It bans funding for diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives at schools and prohibits school-sponsored clubs about sexual orientation and gender identity.
Over the past year, I’ve seen—and experienced—the effects of these two bills on students’ self-expression and inclusion. When one of my staff writers wanted to write an editorial on Senate Bill 10, the school administration immediately shut the idea down. Likewise, when my co-editor-in-chief and I were writing a news article on Senate Bill 12, we were informed to focus more on the implications of violating the bill rather than the potential implications it would have on the student body.
These recurring instances of censorship have led the press room to write with consideration of what the school administration thinks rather than what we honestly value, perpetuating self-censorship and limiting the ideas we engage with.
The danger in these Senate Bills is not that it prohibits us from any opinion at all; rather, it repeatedly reinforces the idea that certain ideas are off limits, and student-journalists have to inevitably adapt and anticipate what administration will approve before they even begin reporting.
That same sentiment is echoed at Tompkins High School, another school in Katy Independent School District. Student A, a student journalist who chose to remain anonymous, shared her experience and observations surrounding free speech.
“There is a huge culture of fear where people are kind of scared to report on the things that matter, like politics and social issues,” Student A said. “But of course, it’s not really their fault—it’s the state. I think that’s what I’m most irritated by.”
The issue of press censorship in Texas has roots far deeper than these state bills, but it is certainly exacerbated by them. The 1988 Hazelwood School District v. Kuhlmeier ruling established that public school officials may censor school publications when they present a pedagogical concern. This ruling has stood for decades and has had direct implications for my school, Seven Lakes High School.
In 2018, journalism adviser Katie Moreno resigned after numerous instances of censorship by the school administration, including being forced to take down an article on the pink tax and requiring parents to sign a permission slip for students featured in a yearbook spread on LGBTQ+ issues.
Now, eight years later, the same censorship continues to happen at the same school, only this time justified through state bills ingrained into law—a force that is infinitely harder to reckon with than campus-level censorship. While campus-level censorship can be challenged, questioned and potentially reversed, challenging state policy becomes much more intimidating.
That is the real danger of SB 10 and SB 12. Their impact is not limited to what hangs on classroom walls or which clubs receive school support. They contribute to a broader environment in which students learn that some questions are safer not to ask.
That is why I have been dedicated to expanding and championing student journalist rights for the past year. As the East Texas regional organizer for New Voices Texas, I am championing New Voices legislation that would bring journalism standards closer to the previous standard established by Tinker v. Des Moines, under which student speech is protected unless it is substantially disruptive, among other limited exceptions.
With the 90th Texas legislative session coming up, it’s only a matter of time before legislators once again decide what students can—and cannot—say. I hope they choose to protect our voices, not restrict them. Student journalism should give us the freedom to question the policies that affect our communities, even when those questions are uncomfortable.
If we want students to become informed and engaged citizens, we need to let them practice doing so. Give us the freedom to speak, and trust us to use it responsibly.
