Florida Republicans Propose Controversial “Charlie Kirk Road” or “HBCU Charlie Kirk” Bill
A new bill filed in Florida has sparked outrage among students, alumni, and lawmakers after proposing that all public colleges—including Florida A&M University, Bethune-Cookman University, and Florida Memorial University—rename a campus roadway after conservative activist Charlie Kirk or risk losing state funding. The measure, known as House Bill 113, quickly became known online as the “HBCU Charlie Kirk bill,” sparking outrage across social media and higher-education circles. Filed by Republican Representative Kevin Steele, the legislation gives schools just 90 days to comply or face withheld funds.
According to WUFT, the bill designates one “prominent roadway” on each campus for renaming, potentially impacting HBCUs that already use those spaces to honor historic Black leaders and alumni.
A Slap in the Face to Florida’s Black Colleges
Democratic Senator Shevrin Jones condemned the proposal, calling it “a slap in the face to every HBCU in Florida.” Critics say it’s part of a larger wave of political posturing from lawmakers who have targeted educational spaces to advance culture-war narratives. “Instead of fixing Florida’s housing and insurance crisis, they’re focused on forcing schools to praise a political influencer,” one FAMU student said. The outrage has been especially strong among HBCU supporters who see the move as disrespectful to the legacy of schools built on empowerment and inclusion. “We don’t need Charlie Kirk’s name on our streets,” a Bethune-Cookman alum tweeted. The criticism mirrors recent conversations around state funding and freedom at HBCUs—issues that came up earlier this year when FAMU faced backlash for its record-breaking $237 million donation controversy.
Who Is Charlie Kirk and Why It Matters
Kirk, the founder of Turning Point USA, has been a polarizing figure on college campuses nationwide. His organization regularly campaigns against diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives—programs deeply rooted in HBCU culture. For many students, being forced to rename a campus road after him feels like a deliberate insult. HBCU Gameday reported that the measure would even apply to Florida’s historically Black institutions, raising concerns about erasure and disrespect toward Black educational spaces. Supporters of the bill say it’s about “recognizing conservative voices,” but opponents argue it’s another example of state overreach designed to provoke division rather than support education.
Critics Call It “Policy Theater” Over Progress
On Roland Martin Unfiltered, Martin and his panel didn’t hold back, describing the bill as “policy theater at its finest.” “If you want to rename something,” Martin said, “name it after Rosewood—not Charlie Kirk.”
The sentiment resonated widely online, where thousands of Floridians echoed frustration that their lawmakers are prioritizing cultural symbolism over real policy. Even conservative outlets like Fox News acknowledged the bill’s controversial framing, noting the potential constitutional challenges tied to punishing universities that don’t comply.
Florida’s HBCUs Continue to Lead Despite Political Pressure
HBCUs like Edward Waters University in Jacksonville, Bethune-Cookman University, Florida Memorial University, and Florida A&M University have been cornerstones of opportunity and excellence in the state for over a century. Rather than honoring their legacies or providing greater funding, critics argue the new proposal would impose political branding on institutions that have historically fought for independence and equality. As one FAMU student told HBCU Buzz, “Our schools don’t need to carry anyone’s political agenda—we’re already carrying history.”
What Happens Next
The bill is still in early discussion, but it’s already becoming one of the most divisive education debates in the state. Whether it passes or not, it underscores the growing tension between Florida’s political leadership and its universities.
For HBCUs that have fought to preserve their legacy, this latest move feels like one more attempt to test their resilience. And as the backlash grows, so does the resolve of students, alumni, and educators determined to make sure their history—and their campuses—remain theirs.