DEI is Dead!

So it finally happened. Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion has been escorted out of the building like a fired sitcom actor nobody wanted to admit was carrying the show.

Corporations, schools, and government offices are quietly shredding their DEI departments, pretending this was all just a “budget decision” and not a full-blown cultural reversal. But here’s the part they’re not advertising:

When DEI goes, the spotlight on minority history and cultural recognition goes with it.

That means Black History Month, Women’s History Month, Latino Heritage celebrations, and more are next on the chopping block. Not with a dramatic announcement. With a slow, polite fade into irrelevance.

The “We Don’t See Color” Era Is Back!

Remember when people claimed they “don’t see color”? Cool. Now institutions are doing the same thing with history.

DEI programs were part of the reason cultural months had funding, visibility, and official recognition. Without them, those events become optional, underfunded, and easy to cancel.

No DEI team means:

• No organized heritage events

• No educational programming

• No cultural outreach

• No reason for leadership to care

History doesn’t vanish. It just stops getting invited to the cookout.

Let’s not pretend this is about “unity” or “fairness” because it isn't. This is about changing the narrative and pretending like no one in this country ever struggled. We were always equal and had the same ability to be successful in life as others.

Miss me with that.

Black History Month used to be about certain school programs, parades, museum visits, corporate recognition of minority leaders, and general conversations.

Now? You may get a LinkedIn post and a dusty poster in the breakroom if you're lucky.

Without DEI teams pushing education and awareness, Black history becomes a trivia question instead of a national conversation.

Women’s History Month: “You Can Vote Already. Isn’t That Enough?”

Women’s History Month was never about flowers and hashtags. It was about reminding people that women had to fight for rights that now get treated like default settings. Without DEI you'll miss out on those leadership spotlights. There will be little-to-no historical education. And ultimately, no pressure to acknowledge gender gaps that still exist in Corporate America.

The message becomes: “You’re here now and that's all that matters. Stop talking about how hard it was for you to get here. You're making us feel bad.”

Latino Heritage Celebrations: Culture Without a Budget

Latino Heritage Month relied heavily on DEI support for:

• Community events

• Cultural education

• Representation initiatives

Remove DEI, and suddenly there’s “no funding this year.” Funny how that works. Culture doesn’t disappear. It just gets ignored. But in all honesty, that's probably the least of Latino worries at the moment with ICE pulling kick-doors in various neighborhoods across the country. They're trying to get rid of the culture and the people.

Stripping DEI isn’t about fairness.

It’s about convenience. It’s easier to manage a workplace that doesn’t talk about race, gender, or history. It’s cheaper to avoid cultural programming. It’s more comfortable to pretend everything is equal now.

But pretending doesn’t make it true. It just makes it quieter.

When history isn’t taught, celebrated, or discussed, it doesn’t inspire anyone. It doesn’t challenge power. It doesn’t remind people how change happened and how to continue to make change happen.

And that’s the point. A society that forgets is easier to manage than one that remembers.

DEI didn’t create cultural history months. It protected them. Without it, Black History Month, Women’s History Month, and Latino celebrations won’t vanish overnight.

They’ll just slowly fade into the background, replaced by “neutrality,” silence, and a calendar that suddenly feels very… empty.

And somehow, that’s being sold as progress.

Times Didn’t Change. People Did. And That’s the Problem.

“We live in different times now.”

That sentence gets tossed around like a moral hall pass. As if the calendar flipped and suddenly integrity expired. As if respect went out of style. As if accountability was a limited-time offer that quietly ended while everyone was distracted by trends, timelines, and hot takes.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: time doesn’t change morals. People do.

Why have values disappeared?

Values aren’t seasonal. They don’t evolve because an algorithm shifted or because public opinion found a new favorite thing. Right and wrong don’t need software updates. The standard didn't change, but the willingness to live up to it has.

Integrity still matters. Respect still matters. Accountability still matters.

They matter when it’s inconvenient. They matter when it costs you social standing. They matter when nobody’s clapping.

Values have been replaced with "vibes". Vibes feel good. Values hold firm. Vibes shift with the room. Values stand on its own. 

What happened to accountability?

Accountability is another casualty of the “times have changed” excuse. Everyone demands it for others, but almost no one wants it for themselves. Mistakes are reframed as misunderstandings. Bad behavior gets rebranded as growth. Apologies come with excuses and a reminder that criticizing them is somehow worse than what they did.

That’s not accountability. That’s public relations.

Does respect still exist?

And respect? Respect now gets confused with agreement. If you disagree, you’re a “hater.” If you question someone's opinion/idea, you’re “toxic.” If you don’t clap on cue, you're side-eyed. Somewhere along the way, respecting people turned into obeying narratives.

Healthy societies don’t work like that. Neither do strong individuals.

Here's the truth: Your character shines the brightest when you have something to lose.

When standing on principle means standing alone. When telling the truth risks backlash. When doing the right thing doesn’t come with applause.

Times didn’t change morals. They just exposed who had them—and who was borrowing them.

I know that I'm sometimes too nostalgic for the past, but I am also realistic about the present. 

The Death of Accountability in Modern Dating

Somewhere between “you do you” and “I owe you nothing,” accountability died.

That’s right — we’ve managed to turn relationships into self-service stations. People walk in, take what they want emotionally, physically, or even financially, and walk out without so much as a “thank you” or “my bad.” And the wild part? Society cheers it on. We’ve convinced ourselves that “protecting our peace” gives us a free pass to treat others like disposable accessories.

We glorify independence so much that loyalty and responsibility have become optional. Everybody wants the benefits of commitment with none of the obligations. Folks want the title without the work, the intimacy without the vulnerability, and the attention without the accountability.

But here’s the thing: relationships don’t usually crumble because of incompatibility — they collapse because of inconsistency.

One day it’s “good morning, beautiful,” and the next it’s “I’ve been busy.” One week it’s deep conversations about the future; the next it’s unread messages and ghosting. People don’t get tired of love — they get tired of confusion.

If you say you want something real, you can’t keep operating like everything’s temporary. Real relationships require showing up even when it’s not convenient. That’s what separates adults from people just playing dress-up in grown-up bodies.

Good decision-making isn’t about doing what feels right in the moment — it’s about choosing what aligns with your values when it’s inconvenient. That’s called character, and it’s the rarest currency in the modern dating economy.

Don’t confuse freedom with selfishness. Freedom means you can choose — but it doesn’t mean your choices don’t have consequences. The strongest people aren’t the ones who move on the fastest; they’re the ones who stay consistent even when no one’s watching.

Accountability isn’t control — it’s commitment. And maybe, just maybe, if we brought that back into dating, love wouldn’t feel like a game we’re all pretending not to care about.