Before 24-hour cable news and the Internet, people mainly relied on local newscasts and the radio for what we now call “breaking news.” ABC, NBC, and CBS had local news at 5:00 with a national newsfeed at 6:00. My mother watched local news religiously. When something particularly heinous occurred, and the race of the perpetrator wasn’t immediately known. She’d inevitably say, “I hope he wasn’t Black.” She knew that a terrible act by one person had the potential for a backlash on the entire Black community.
One time, two young white girls were missing for a month, and their bodies were ultimately found in a mountain of sand at a construction site. My Minneapolis community was figuratively up in arms, looking for vengeance. If given someone to blame, those arms might become literal. Mom was particularly concerned that their killers not be Black. It took another month to discover the murderer was white, and she could breathe a sigh of relief.
Charlie Kirk was killed in one of the whitest states in America. Not quite up there with Maine, Vermont, and New Hampshire, but close. The campus of Utah Valley University is 75% white (1% Black). From my observation of the event where Kirk was speaking, it appeared to be predominantly white, with a possible percentage of around 100%. Investigators during the manhunt noted that the shooter was able to blend into the environment, in terms of age, clothing, and, though they didn’t mention it, color. My mother wouldn’t have been worried about the shooter being Black in this instance (he wasn’t). Yet Black people got blamed anyway. The day after the shooting, six HBCUs received threats and were either locked down or evacuated.
Not only do Black people get blamed for things. Other minorities and LGBTQ people catch occasional strays due to anti-DEI sentiment and affirmative action. In 2025, a military helicopter and a commercial jet collided over the Potomac River, killing 67 people. Donald Trump and allies immediately blamed DEI hiring in air traffic control, alleging lowered standards.
“If I see a Black pilot, I’m going to be like, ‘Boy, I hope he’s qualified,’” said Charlie Kirk at one time.
A recent bridge collapse was proof that “merit” had been replaced by “quotas,” despite investigators finding structural and maintenance issues. Right‑wing pundits claimed DEI hires in rail companies and regulators were to blame for a train derailment, though the cause was traced to mechanical failure. Some conservative commentators argued that DEI in firefighting and forestry management led to poor decisions, ignoring climate and drought factors.
There is a pattern when “others” are blamed with no proof of the claim.
- The blame is immediate — often within hours of the incident.
- Evidence is absent — official investigations rarely mention DEI.
- The rhetoric targets women, people of color, and LGBTQ staff in high‑skill roles, implying they were hired for identity rather than competence.
This reflex to assign blame to “others” is not new. It’s an old American tradition, dressed up in new language. In the 19th century, Irish immigrants were accused of bringing crime and disease. In the early 20th century, Italian and Eastern European immigrants were painted as anarchists and radicals. During World War II, Japanese Americans — two‑thirds of them U.S. citizens — were rounded up and incarcerated without evidence of disloyalty. The script is familiar: when something goes wrong, find a group already viewed with suspicion, and make them the culprit.
What’s different now is the speed and reach of the accusation. In my mother’s day, the rumor mill ran on word of mouth, local radio, and the evening news. Today, a single post on X or Truth Social can turn a baseless claim into a trending topic in minutes. By the time investigators release actual findings, the false narrative has already hardened in the minds of millions.
The DEI scapegoating we see now is just the latest iteration. It’s a way to repackage old prejudices in the language of “standards” and “merit.” The targets are predictable: Black professionals, women in leadership, LGBTQ employees, and immigrants in technical roles. The accusation is always the same — that they got the job because of who they are, not what they can do — and that their presence is inherently risky.
The Potomac air disaster was a textbook example. Before the NTSB could even begin its work, the crash was framed as the inevitable result of “woke hiring.” The fact that the female pilot Trump singled out was a top‑20% Army cadet with an exemplary record didn’t matter. The point wasn’t to investigate; it was to reinforce a worldview in which diversity is dangerous.
The threats to HBCUs after Kirk’s killing fit the same mold. There was no connection between the shooter and any Black institution. The crime happened in a nearly all‑white setting, committed by a white suspect. Yet within 24 hours, Black colleges hundreds of miles away were forced into lockdown. The message to those students was unmistakable: you will be punished for events you had nothing to do with, simply because you are Black and visible.
This is how intimidation works. It doesn’t require a direct accusation. It thrives on association, on the unspoken suggestion that “people like you” are somehow responsible. It’s the same logic that made my mother hold her breath when the news broke about a terrible crime — the knowledge that guilt, in the public mind, can be collective.
And it’s not just about race. The anti‑DEI backlash has widened the circle of suspicion. A queer firefighter, a Latina engineer, an Asian American train inspector — all can be cast as “diversity hires” whose competence is questioned before they even start the job. The accusation is a two-for-one: it undermines the individual and the very idea that workplaces should reflect the country's diversity.
What makes this moment especially dangerous is the convergence of three forces:
- A political movement that treats DEI as an existential threat — not just to hiring practices, but to “real America” itself.
- A media ecosystem primed for outrage — where unverified claims are amplified for clicks and political gain.
- A public conditioned to see diversity as a zero‑sum game — where someone else’s opportunity is imagined as your loss.
In that environment, the truth struggles to catch up. Official reports debunk the DEI blame, but the correction never travels as far or as fast as the original lie. Meanwhile, the damage is done: trust eroded, communities targeted, and the next incident primed for the same treatment.
The day after Charlie Kirk was killed, the threats to HBCUs were not random. They were part of a pattern — a reflexive reach for the same old scapegoats, updated for the culture‑war battles of 2025. They were a reminder that in America, innocence is no shield if you belong to the wrong group in the wrong moment. And they were a warning that the “blame DEI” narrative is not just rhetoric. It has real‑world consequences for the safety, dignity, and freedom of those it targets.
Until we confront that pattern — not just the individual lies, but the machinery that produces and rewards them — we will keep seeing the same story play out. A tragedy happens. The facts are unknown. And before the truth can breathe, the blame has already found its mark.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author's permission. Read more of William Spivey's work on Medium. And if you dig his words, buy the man a coffee.