In December 2022, I was removed from my role as dean of the Graduate College of Social Work at the University of Houston. The termination of my dean role was the result of my abolitionist views and my efforts to move the college toward incorporating an abolitionist perspective in social work since the summer of 2020.
The irony is that I was let go precisely for hewing to the ethos of my profession. Social work has been called to challenge injustice and fight oppression since its earliest origins in the late 19th century. This commitment was strengthened in 2021, when revisions to the National Association of Social Workers’ Code of Ethics added new language: “Social workers must take action against oppression, racism, discrimination, and inequities.” It is the only phrase in the code that uses the word must. If this is meant to be more than rhetoric, this call must include taking action against the systems and structures that perpetuate racism, discrimination, and inequality—among them policing, prisons, and child welfare.
I began to identify as an abolitionist in the summer of 2020, though I had been deeply engaged in abolitionist inquiry for several years. My background is in the child welfare system; prior to entering academia I worked for several years as a child protective services caseworker and investigated allegations of child maltreatment. I witnessed the tremendous harm the system causes Black children and families, which led me to understand that the only solution was to completely eliminate family separation and foster care. I began studying the deep body of abolitionist theory and in 2020 worked with colleagues to launch the upEND movement, a collaborative effort dedicated to abolishing the child welfare system and building alternatives that focus on healing and liberation.
Too often, the idea of abolition is wrongly simplified to focus on “dismantling” an institution or system while its deeper meaning is erased. While abolition intends to end harmful, racist systems, its focus is on building a new, liberated society—a society free from violence and oppression where all members are truly equal. In applying this vision to policing and prisons, abolitionists seek to build a society where individuals have everything they need to thrive, where divesting from the police will not only reduce police violence, but will allow us to reinvest in the things that truly keep us safe—housing, jobs, well-funded public schools, access to mental health services, and other resources that families and communities need. Similarly, the movement to abolish the child welfare system seeks to build a society where all children and families have everything they need to experience safety in their homes and their communities, free from violence and harm and free of the societal conditions that create them. In this way, abolition is not simply about ending harmful, racist systems; it is about building a society where the need for harmful, racist systems is obsolete.
Too often, the idea of abolition is wrongly simplified to focus on “dismantling” an institution or system, while its deeper meaning is erased.
Concurrent to launching the upEND movement in 2020, the “defund the police” movement was rapidly gaining attention, and social work was thrust into the middle of these conversations. Seemingly overnight, politicians suggested that increased collaboration between social workers and police could serve as a potential solution to the racism and harm inherent in policing. This view was immediately endorsed by Angelo McClain, then president of the National Association of Social Workers, who wrote in a Wall Street Journal op-ed:
Strengthening social-worker and police partnerships can be an effective strategy in addressing behavioral health, mental health, substance use, homelessness, family disputes and other similar calls to 911 emergency-response lines. In fact, social workers are playing an increasingly integral role in police forces, helping officers do their jobs more effectively and humanely and become better attuned to cultural and racial biases.
I firmly believe this is not the right stance for social work. Rather, that time in our history presented an opportunity for social work to firmly disavow policing and to affirm that we would no longer be complicit in the harmful and racist outcomes this system produces. If our profession’s leaders were not willing to take this stance, others of us in leadership positions could. Along with my colleague Laura Abrams from UCLA, we penned an open letter to the National Association of Social Workers encouraging the organization to disassociate from policing, to call for divestment from policing, and to reinvest in families and communities. I penned an op-ed in the Houston Chronicle denouncing collaborations between social workers and police and calling on these collaborations to end. And most importantly, I wrote a letter to the students of the Graduate College of Social Work:
I’ve spoken often this summer about my support of efforts to defund the police. I believe in this movement because I believe it is not the police that keep us safe. In fact, as we’ve seen this summer and throughout our history, it is often the police who put us in danger. … But defunding the police is only a means to an end, and that end is abolition. … The harm that results from this system and others that operate under its auspices, and the oppression they perpetuate, will only end when these systems no longer exist.
This was followed by a multi-year series of conversations intended to educate our faculty, staff, and students on abolitionist principles and social work’s role in the abolitionist movement. We invited some of the nation’s leading abolitionist thinkers to help us consider our role in the movement and be prepared to educate our students on this rapidly emerging field of practice. I also made an important decision, in collaboration with our practicum faculty, to no longer place students in policing organizations for their internships.
These efforts were done to move our college into what I believe is the future of social work—a future where we live up to our values and work to end the harms that result from carceral systems. I knew there was some resistance among our faculty, but I believed this resistance was the result of a lack of understanding of abolitionist ideas, which could be addressed through continued conversations.
However, this resistance was too great among the four full professors in our college—the four who by nature of their titles and years of experience wield power in the eyes of our university. On December 13, I was informed by the interim provost that I had lost their confidence, and as a result, I was being removed as dean. I was told this was a culmination of my abolitionist views, in particular my decision to no longer place students in policing organizations, which these faculty believed had damaged our reputation. I was told these faculty had enlisted several alumni to write letters in support of this claim. I was further told these faculty feared my views would jeopardize their grant money. Perhaps most disappointing for me, I was told these faculty believed I had created an environment where, if someone did not identify as an abolitionist, they were presumed to be a racist. This was not true, but this perception among these faculty was enough for me to be fired.
In concluding this meeting, the provost shared his view that a dean should be neutral and not take stances on what some believe are controversial issues. On this point, I completely disagree. I believe it is the role of the dean to look toward the future and identify the emerging issues our profession should explore and embrace. When these issues are controversial or misunderstood, either in the profession or society, that should not deter us from exploring and advancing them.
Abolitionist ideas are ideas that must be advanced. If we truly wish to work toward a society free from racism and oppression, we can no longer continue to support the very systems that are responsible for perpetuating and maintaining them.
We also must continue these conversations to address the continued lack of understanding of the real promise of abolition. Ultimately, abolition is about hope. Hope for another world, and the belief that another world is possible. This is not an uninformed hope or a utopian dream. It is the hope for something we know is possible because the idea that it is impossible is not something we can accept. Those of us who share this hope know that it is within our power to bring about this new world.
Ultimately, abolition is about hope.
Although I was removed as dean, I know that the power to bring about change doesn’t come from a title or a position. Power comes from the collective of people who want to see the future of social work be something different than it is today. Power comes from the collective of people who want to see a society where we respond to problems in ways that prioritize healing and liberation. We hold the power to bring about the world we wish to see. And this power is greater than those who wish to oppress us.
