Freedom

In the height of Florida’s anti-communist fervor, the state legislature turned its sights on the local NAACP branch—demanding its leaders surrender its membership list.

Rev. Theodore Gibson, then president of the branch, was faced with an impossible choice: betray the trust of his community or risk his own freedom. Ordered by the court to hand over the records, he refused—choosing instead to protect his members, answering questions only from his own memory rather than exposing them to intimidation and retaliation.

For his courage, he was punished. The state court found him in contempt, sentencing him to six months in jail and a $1,200 fine. But Rev. Gibson’s stand for his members’ constitutional rights did not end there. We joined him in this fight and took the case to the Supreme Court, where his conviction was overturned, and Florida politicians were rebuked for violating the First and Fourth Amendment rights of NAACP members.

Justice Arthur Goldberg’s words still resonate today: “To permit legislative inquiry to proceed on less than an adequate foundation would be to sanction unjustified and unwarranted intrusions into the very heart of the constitutional privilege to be secure in associations… to impose a lesser standard… would be inconsistent with the preservation of our democracy.”

With his name cleared, Rev. Gibson continued his work to dismantle segregation in Miami. He later became the third African American to serve on the Miami City Commission. His legacy is one of courage, principle, and an unwavering belief in the power of community.

In the early 1990s, South Florida’s own 2 Live Crew was at the center of a national debate over music, morality, and the limits of free speech. Known for their unapologetically raunchy lyrics, the group’s chart-topping album As Nasty As They Wanna Be was targeted by Broward County Sheriff Nick Navarro, who labeled it obscene and threatened to arrest anyone who performed or sold it.

When a federal court declared the album obscene, the stakes were high—not just for 2 Live Crew, but for artists everywhere whose work pushed societal boundaries. We stepped in, filing an amicus brief on behalf of Luther Campbell and the group, and represented a local record store owner who was arrested for selling the album to an undercover officer.

The case went to the Eleventh Circuit Court of Appeals, where the judges made a landmark ruling: As Nasty As They Wanna Be was not a crime—it was artistic expression protected by the First Amendment. When the Supreme Court refused to review the case, the victory was sealed, ending the sheriff’s threats and affirming that art, even when provocative, has a place in a free society.

Robyn Blummer, then-executive director of the ACLU of Florida, said: “We can’t wipe the smiles off our faces. It means that the First Amendment is protected, and adults may once again listen to the music of their choice in South Florida.”

This fight wasn’t just about one album—it was about defending the right of communities to create, share, and choose the art that speaks to them, without fear of censorship or arrest.

In 2022, Florida lawmakers passed the so-called “Stop W.O.K.E.” Act—a classroom censorship law that strikes at the heart of academic freedom in higher education. The law forbids professors and students from openly teaching, learning, or even discussing issues related to race and gender. Florida was one of nearly 20 states that had adopted similar measures, each aimed at silencing critical conversations about American history. Recognizing the high stakes and the far-reaching impact of this law, we went to court to stand with Florida educators and challenge this sweeping act of censorship.

For LeRoy Pernell, a professor at Florida A&M University College of Law and the lead plaintiff in Pernell v. Lamb, this is more than an attack on academic freedom—it’s an attack on truth itself.

“What is at stake here is the ability of society… to learn, discuss, and develop tools for combating the complex issue of racism in our country without being gagged by those who would dictate that only state-approved thought may be promoted,” he said. “This thought-level policing is inconsistent with a free nation and unacceptable.”

The lawsuit challenges the law as a violation of the First and Fourteenth Amendments, arguing that it imposes vague, discriminatory, and viewpoint-based restrictions on higher education classrooms. It also contends that the law breaches the Equal Protection Clause, passed with a racially discriminatory purpose and poised to harm Black educators and students.

The law is on hold until trial—keeping the door open for Black history to be taught despite the state’s attempt to silence it.