How do I participate in Cohort 2?
- Complete this sign-up form by 11:59pm Monday, 9/14 to confirm your participation
- Work independently to create at least one product (e.g. issue briefs, tools, media products, data analysis or visualization, etc.) that is high-value for communities across the state
- We expect projects will take 20-30 hours to complete over the course of 12 weeks.
- The CX100 team will provide ideas for the types of products you may create. We will also provide materials such as data, reports, and audio-visual content for you to use. However, this is a chance to get creative and use your unique skills to develop resources for communities across the state.
- Attend the virtual kickoff on Wednesday, 9/16, 1-2pm
- Attend at least 1 of 3 skill-building webinars
- Thursday 10/1, 9:30-10:30am: Skill building webinar – Intro to CX100 Issue Focuses
- Wednesday 10/14, 12-1pm: Skill building webinar – Writing and Presenting to Diverse Audiences
- Monday 11/3, 2-3pm: Skill building webinar – Intro to Campus-Community Collaboration
- Monday, 11/16: Attend the closeout webinar from 2-3pm and turn in your final product.
Why Join Cohort 2?
Build your research, technical, and engagement skills through webinars and feedback from community-engaged researchers at the UNC School of Government
Meet other students interested in public policy, community engagement, and related fields
Flexibility to complete the task on your own time throughout the semester.
Guidance on how to leverage this experience for future academic and professional opportunities
Questions?
Abigail Holdsclaw, ncIMPACT Lead Community-Based Researcher, at aholdsclaw@sog.unc.edu
FAQs
- Who is eligible?
- Current UNC-Chapel Hill undergraduate, graduate, or professional students who will graduate no earlier than December 2026.
- Is this fellowship paid?
- No.
- How much time is it expected to take?
- 20-30 hours.
- What are the requirements?
- Attendance at the kickoff, wrap-up, and 1 training, and creation of at least one product.
- How will the products be used?
- By community team across the state to better understand or address an issue.
- What will I create?
- We welcome your creativity! See below for students’ past work. Your products should correspond to a topic from a past Carolina Across 100 project.
2026 Carolina Impact Fellows Cohort 1
Over the summer, the inaugural Carolina Impact Fellows Cohort worked to create products that responded to the needs of North Carolina Communities.
Who Participated?
9 Total Students
- 6 undergraduate
- 3 graduate
10 Unique Majors and Programs
Products generated for communities
- Research Reports
- Evaluation Summaries
- Project Reports
- Policy Brief and Dashboard
- Blogs
Anoushka Das
Anoushka Das worked with internal CX100 data consisting of 120+ indicators over 7 programs. She cleaned existing datasets, reworked pivot tables and formulas, and generated a report for the CX100 team on how to improve the data documentation for external users.
Race, Geography, and Discipline
Exclusionary Discipline Effects in Rural North Carolina
By Chloe Johnson
In Indianapolis, Indiana, thirteen-year-old Levent is frequently celebrated for his test scores at school. Instead of educators at his school investing in his potential for success, he is often excessively disciplined or suspended for age-appropriate activities (McCoy, 2025). Further, the administration at his school has been given notice of Levent’s documented disability: attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, or ADHD. Many school rules maintain exclusionary rules that offer little guidance for disabled students when crises happen, leading to discipline that does not match the action. In schools today, the rules that are supposed to protect students are marginalizing them.
Levent’s experience is not an isolated one — his reflects overlapping crises converging on the same students. Exclusionary discipline practices (EDP) has long been identified as a key entry point into the “school-to-prison pipeline,” the pattern by which suspensions, expulsions, and school-based arrests increase students’ likelihood of future contact with the juvenile and criminal justice systems. Black students bear this burden disproportionately: nationally, Black children represent roughly 16% of K-12 enrollment but 43% of students who receive multiple out-of-school suspensions (U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, 2019). Second, this pipeline is unfolding alongside a documented youth mental health crisis. Rather than operating separately from that crisis, exclusionary discipline appears to worsen it: longitudinal research following students subject to EDPs found they were more likely to exhibit both externalizing symptoms (aggression, disobedience, destruction of property) and internalizing symptoms (low self-worth, anxiety, guilt), along with a persistent sense of unfair treatment by educators — effects that compounded over a four-year follow-up (Thompson et al., 2025). Third, students with disabilities sit at a particularly acute intersection of these crises. Nationally, students with disabilities are suspended at far higher rates than their non-disabled peers (Leung-Gagné et al., 2022), and when disability status intersects with Black identity — as it does for students like Levent — the risk compounds rather than simply adds. Exclusionary discipline policies frequently offer little guidance for responding to disability-related behavior, meaning the punishment imposed often does not match, or even address, the underlying need.
In North Carolina, this issue is pertinent due to the spike in in-school-suspensions post-pandemic (NCDPI). Exclusionary discipline is defined as any school rule that aims to remove a child from the classroom or school environment. Students with disabilities, economically disadvantaged students, and students who are Black or two or more races were more likely to receive in-school suspensions than their counterparts (NCDPI, 2024-2025). These same students are also more likely to receive alternative learning placements (ALP) and short term suspensions (STS). While exclusionary discipline often takes place away from other students, and in another classroom, violence and emotional distress inflicted upon students may take place as a part of the discipline process.
In Wake County Schools, 371 students were restrained or secluded more than 1,000 times. Most of these students were elementary students with disabilities, and more often than not they were Black. Not only is this unjust, but it’s illegal. Secluding and physically restraining children without a 504 plan or imminent harm is illegal under N.C. Gen. Stat. § 115C-391.1(b), (e)-(g). While this case received significant media attention, physical assault and emotional distress should not be the hurdle to justice for youth in North Carolina. Children who are excluded in classrooms and in school, often under agonizing circumstances, are also the students who are also marginalized by society. If institutions like education, which are supposed to protect children, are chambers of stratification by discipline, shall we question the policy itself?
Exclusionary Discipline and Outcomes
While exclusionary discipline is not a new practice, it has come to the attention of disability and educational justice advocates for the intersection with use and outcomes in children. In New York City schools, children who are subject to exclusionary school discipline practices (EDPs) are more likely to exhibit externalizing symptoms (e.g. aggression, disobedience, destruction of property) and internalizing symptoms (low self-worth, anxiety, and guilt) as well as perceived unfairness by their instructor (Thompson et al., 2025). In a second wave four years later, adolescents demonstrated the cumulative, adverse effects of repeated EDPs on adolescent mental health and perceived unfair treatment.
The theory of EDPs is often predicated upon the idea that removing a student, or students from the school environment, may improve the school climate for many. However, in a similar study by AIR in the same district, exclusion from the school environment did not improve perceptions of school climate for other students (AIR, 2021). Nor did it reduce future misbehavior for the disciplined students or their peers, or result in improved academic achievement for peers. Further, the more severe the exclusionary discipline, the greater its negative effects were on a student’s future academic performance, attendance, and behavior.
Exclusionary Discipline on Rural Students
North Carolina has the second largest rural population in the country. In schools where material resources and opportunity are scarce, like access to 504s, behavioral assessments, and social-emotional learning tools, EDPs may be more common. In many schools across the country, including rural schools, police officers, security guards or school resource officers (SROs) will be installed to protect students from harm that may occur during the school day. Contention has arisen on the effectiveness of SROs along with their ability to enact discipline policy. While school discipline policy is mandated statewide, a “Dear Colleague” letter dated January 8, 2014, by the Obama administration outlined two themes that the OCR looks for when investigating claims of discrimination in school discipline, including different treatment and disparate impact based on race. Over the past two Trump administrations, this guidance has been effectively dissolved (Trump, 2025). While you may not automatically think of a “Dear Colleague” letter preventing EDP in rural areas, this is often one of the most vulnerable areas to discriminatory discipline.
24% of residents in the rural South are Black, and when a Black student is living in a rural county, their likelihood of receiving EDPs double to quadruple compared to an average white student (NCDPI). The rate of discipline in these districts is various, and literature has demonstrated that harsh discipline could be related to slanted racial composition of the student body. Regardless of a student’s geography, gender, school achievement, economic level of the school, or the severity of the student’s behavior was attending a school with a higher percentage of Black students (Welsh et al., 2025). Perhaps this research demonstrates that racial disparities in punishment persist even when controlling for socioeconomic status, geography, gender, and the specific type of infraction.
For the three case studies above, they are diverse in their student populations. Vance and Anson counties share similar Black student populations (47.3% and 44.6% respectively), median income, and child poverty rates — yet their short-term suspension rates differ by 1.33% (415, 547 per 1000 students). Harnett County, with a notably lower Black population share (19.8%) and higher median income, shows a lower rate of short-term suspension (208 per 1000), however not nearly as high as Anson or Vance. This pattern is consistent with Welsh et al.’s (2025) finding that the racial composition of a school predicts exclusionary discipline more strongly than poverty, geography, or the severity of student behavior. These findings suggest in rural NC, exclusion and bias, not just resource scarcity, drive the disparity.
Short Term Suspensions per 1000 students in rural counties in North Carolina, 2017-2018 to 2021-2022, comparing Anson County, Vance County, and Harnett County to the 100-county NC average
Rural schools across North Carolina struggle with a lack of material resources including well-trained personnel who are equipped to provide culturally responsive care in crisis situations. Existent studies indicate that rural schools tend to have harsh discipline codes and SRO’s may use discretion and authority in handling violence, drug use, and gang-related issues (Ruddell & May, 2011; Hunt, 2012) putting students in contact with the criminal justice system. Due to SRO’s versatile mandate which differs given the district, the position is versatile in nature, many SROs and school police have taken it upon themselves to enforce an individualized curriculum. School resource officers’ in North Carolina, no matter the county, are given the mandate to support and mentor students in their learning environment while promoting safety and security (Office of Justice Programs, 1995). The current climate in rural schools suggests otherwise, specifically for marginalized students, and finding pathways to justice for these students is paramount.
Policy Proposals
1. Install Full-Time Behavioral Wrap-Around Care Team in Schools
One promising response to this resource gap is the wraparound model — a coordinated system of care built around a student and their family, rather than a single service delivered in isolation. Wraparound has traditionally operated on an individual basis, but the COVID-19 pandemic demonstrated its adaptability at a community scale, as neighborhoods organized collective wraparound-style responses ranging from mutual aid networks to vaccine delivery to food security efforts. In schools, behavioral wraparound services are most effective when staff, students, and families are all active participants rather than passive recipients. The model rests on two guiding principles: family and youth voice and choice, and a team-based approach. In practice, this means families and youth retain genuine autonomy through interpersonal support and through collaboration with their existing family and kinship networks, while a team works cooperatively toward an outcome-based plan that honors each participant’s strengths — an approach shown to cultivate durable, healthy partnerships between families and school staff.
Education-based wraparound remains a comparatively young field, with more practice and research still needed (Eber et al., 2002). But the infrastructure for it already exists in most schools, in the form of Specialized Instructional Support Personnel (SISP) — counselors, social workers, nurses, and psychologists trained to help students navigate barriers to learning (Public Schools First NC, 2025). These professionals are chronically underutilized despite being essential to wraparound care: partnering with families, practicing cultural humility, and coordinating across systems are core to their training. This matters directly for the disparities outlined above. When a student is facing in-school suspension, SISP can intervene before that suspension escalates — working with families and administrators to identify meaningful support rather than default to exclusion, and in doing so, functioning as a genuine diversion point away from the school-to-prison pipeline. For rural districts specifically, where these positions are often understaffed or absent entirely, investing in SISP capacity may be one of the more direct levers available to reduce reliance on exclusionary discipline.
2. Restorative Justice rather than Community Policing
Across North Carolina, School Resource Officers (SROs) have become a normalized presence in public schools, justified as a necessary response to concerns about school violence. While these policies are framed around safety, in practice they frequently have adverse effects on school safety. Research has consistently shown that the presence of police in schools increases student contact with the criminal legal system, particularly for minor, nonviolent behaviors that could be handled by educators (Geller and Fagan, 2021). This shift reflects a broader trend in education policy: rather than addressing the underlying conditions that shape student behavior, schools have increasingly adopted punitive approaches that mirror broader “tough on crime” policies of the late twentieth century.
Students of color, particularly Black students, have historically been subjected to disciplinary action in schools — from disproportionate arrests to zero tolerance policies that criminalized petty behavior — the late twentieth century transformed police presence and power in schools (Skiba et al., 2014). The expansion of policing in schools contributes directly to what is often described as the school-to-prison pipeline, where educational institutions become sites of surveillance and exclusion rather than support and development (Geller and Mark, 2022; Sorenson et al., 2021). Importantly, there is limited evidence that SROs meaningfully improve school safety. Instead, their presence can undermine trust between students and institutions, particularly in communities already over-policed outside of school (Whitaker et al. 2023). When students perceive school environments as punitive or adversarial, the community may lose trust in the school to protect students. Henceforth, it becomes more difficult to foster the relationships and sense of belonging that are essential for learning. To begin community-building and cultivate trust between students, educators, research shows counseling services, mental health support, and conflict resolution programs are most effective at improving students’ behavioral outcomes (Mann, 2019). At the same time, schools often remain under-resourced in the areas that support these positive outcomes.
Restorative Justice is an emerging practice in schools to cultivate belonging between students and staff. Restorative practices tend to root out the causes of student misbehavior while reducing exclusionary approaches (Darling-Hammond, 2023). In a 2023 study of 485 middle schools and two million students, schools who utilized restorative justice practices saw declines in student misbehavior, gang membership, victimization, depressive symptoms, and substance abuse. Additionally, schools that utilized restorative practices also saw improvements in average school GPA and school climate. The shift from punitivity and surveillance to building community awareness represents how responsibility and accountability can be embraced by a community.
Conclusion
A youth mental health crisis is unfolding nationwide, and rural youth face a particular vulnerability within it. During a formative, transitional stage of life, the institutions meant to support them — their schools — are too often the setting where they are unfairly targeted. In places that should be safe for all children, Black youth are disciplined at disproportionately higher rates, a pattern that intensifies in counties with larger Black populations. This disparity points to an urgent need for further research into school policing in rural counties, particularly majority-minority counties, where the intersection of geography, race, and exclusionary discipline (EDP) remains poorly understood. School resource officers and community policing mandates have shown mixed effectiveness overall, and troubling patterns specifically in how they discipline Black students (Skiba et al., 2014). Behavioral wraparound services and restorative justice frameworks offer a different path — one grounded in evidence of lasting, positive effects that keep students in school rather than pushing them out of it. Realizing that path will require rural districts to be given the resources, staffing, and policy support to make it possible.
References
AIR Study Finds More Severe Suspensions Have Greater Negative Effects on Academic Outcomes, Attendance and Future Behavior. (2021, August 24). American Institutes for Research. https://www.air.org/news/press-release/air-study-finds-more-severe-suspensions-have-greater-negative-effects-academic
Darling-Hammond, S. (2023). Fostering belonging, transforming schools: The impact of restorative practices. Learning Policy Institute. https://doi.org/10.54300/169.703
Bruns, E. J., Walker, J. S., Zabel, M., Matarese, M., Estep, K., Harburger, D., Mosby, M., & Pires, S. A. (2010). Intervening in the lives of youth with complex behavioral health challenges and their families: the role of the wraparound process. American journal of community psychology, 46(3-4), 314–331. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10464-010-9346-5
DECREASE EXCLUSIONARY DISCIPLINE PRACTICES Workbook: 1_1. (n.d.). NCDPI. Retrieved August 3, 2026, from https://bi.nc.gov/t/DPI-StateBoardofEducationOperations/views/1_1/CustomComparison?%3Aembed=y&%3AisGuestRedirectFromVizportal=y
Eber, L., Sugai, G., Smith, C. R., & Scott, T. M. (2002). Wraparound and Positive Behavioral Interventions and Supports in the Schools. Journal of Emotional and Behavioral Disorders, 10(3), 171–180. https://doi.org/10.1177/10634266020100030501
Geller, A., & Fagan, J. (2019). Police Contact and the Legal Socialization of Urban Teens. The Russell Sage Foundation journal of the social sciences: RSF, 5(1), 26–49. https://doi.org/10.7758/rsf.2019.5.1.02
Geller, A., & Mark, N. (2022). Student absenteeism and the role of police encounters. Criminology & Public Policy, 21(4), 893–914. https://doi.org/10.1111/1745-9133.12600
Facts on Helping Professionals (School Social Works, Psychologists, Nurses, & Counselors) – Public Schools First NC. (2025). https://publicschoolsfirstnc.org/resources/fact-sheets/facts-on-helping-professionals-school-social-works-psychologists-nurses-counselors/
Hunt, V. H., Taylor, M. A., Fitzgerald, B., Button, E. D., & Kerr, B. (2019). An Examination of the Characteristics and Perceptions of School Resource Officers in Rural and Urban Oklahoma Schools.
Leung-Gagné, M., McCombs, J., Scott, C., & Losen, D. (2022). Pushed out: Trends and disparities in out-of-school suspension. Learning Policy Institute. https://doi.org/10.54300/235.277
McCoy, Dylan P. (2025). Strict rules can foster calm classrooms. But some students pay the price. NPR. https://www.npr.org/2025/09/25/nx-s1-5459934/school-students-disabilities-discipline
North Carolina County Educational Data and Resources. (2026). NC Educational Attainment Dashboard | MyFutureNC. https://dashboard.myfuturenc.org/county-data-and-resources/
Office of Justice Programs (1995). School Resource Officer. https://www.ojp.gov/ncjrs/virtual-library/abstracts/school-resource-officer
Report to the North Carolina General Assembly (2024-2025). North Carolina Department of Instruction. https://www.ednc.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/AnnualReport_DALD_202425_460533veietc44l3g5doq1cwzolzcc.pdf
Ruddell, R., & May, D. C. (2011). Challenging our perceptions of rural policing: An examination of school resource officers in rural and urban Kentucky schools. Kentucky Journal of Anthropology and Sociology, 1, 1–14.
Skiba, R. J., Chung, C.-G., Trachok, M., Baker, T. L., Sheya, A., & Hughes, R. L. (2014). Parsing Disciplinary Disproportionality: Contributions of Infraction, Student, and School Characteristics to Out-of-School Suspension and Expulsion. American Educational Research Journal, 51(4), 640–670. https://doi.org/10.3102/0002831214541670
Sorensen, L. C., Shen, Y., & Bushway, S. D. (2021). Making schools safer and/or escalating disciplinary response: A study of police officers in North Carolina schools. Educational Evaluation and Policy Analysis, 43(3), 495–519. https://doi.org/10.3102/01623737211006409
Thompson, E. L., Lehman, S. M., Adams, A. R., Kaiver, C. M., Scarfone, G. V. R., Gonzalez, A., Hawes, S. W., Scardamalia, K. M., Gonzalez, R., & Pham, A. V. (2025). The Longitudinal Effects of Exclusionary School Discipline on Adolescent Well-Being. Research on child and adolescent psychopathology, 53(12), 2069–2085. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10802-025-01386-y
Trump, Donald J. (2025, April 23). Reinstating Common Sense School Discipline Policies. The White House. https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/04/reinstating-common-sense-school-discipline-policies/
U.S. Commission on Civil Rights. (2019). Beyond suspensions: Examining school discipline policies and connections to the school-to-prison pipeline for students of color with disabilities. Washington, D.C.
Walkenhorst, E. WRAL education. (2026, February 24). Wake Schools physically restrained or secluded nearly 400 students in fall 2025, new data shows. WRAL.com. https://www.wral.com/news/local/wake-schools-physical-restraint-seclusion-data-february-2026/
Whitaker, A., Torres-Guillén, S., Morton, M., & Jordan, H. (2023). Cops and no counselors: How the lack of school mental health staff is harming students. American Civil Liberties Union. https://www.aclu.org/publications/cops-and-no-counselors
Welsh, R. O., Rodriguez, L. A., & Joseph, B. (2025). Racial Threat, Schools, and Exclusionary Discipline: Evidence from New York City. Sociology of Education, 98(2), 87–109. https://doi.org/10.1177/00380407251321387
Workman, J., & Wake, D. (2022). Discipline disproportionality in rural schools in the south. Educational Leadership and Administration: Teaching and Program Development, 34, 85–107.
Deeya Majeed
When Home Isn’t Safe: Domestic Violence and North Carolina’s Affordable Housing Crisis
Written by Deeya Majeed
A Carolina Impact Fellowship reflection on Carolina Across 100’s Our State, Our Homes program
More than a third of domestic violence survivors experience homelessness at some point in their lives (pull-quote). For many, the choice isn’t between a good option and a bad one; it’s between staying with continued violence or leaving into an affordable housing market that has almost nowhere for them to go.
Through the Carolina Impact Fellowship this summer, I’ve had the chance to support Carolina Across 100 by digging into research, visualizing data, and helping spread awareness about the organization’s work across North Carolina. Early on, I found myself drawn to Our State, Our Homes, a collaborative effort spanning 22 counties working together to tackle the state’s housing crisis (bold “Our State, Our Homes”). The more I learned about the program, the more one intersection kept surfacing: how the housing crisis and domestic violence intertwined with each other, making it increasingly difficult for survivors trying to find safety.
North Carolina’s Affordability Problem, By the Numbers
Our State, Our Homes defines affordable housing using a familiar federal standard: a household spending no more than 30% of its income on housing costs. Maps of renter cost burden across North Carolina show the scale of the problem: most of the state is shaded in red, indicating widespread numbers of renters crossing that 30% threshold. In some counties, 20 to 30% of households are severely cost burdened, spending more than half their income on housing (pull-quote or bolded callout).
Cost-Burden — Percent of renters spending 30% or more on housing-related costs, by North Carolina county. Source: HUD CHAS
That 30% rule is useful because it’s the standard federal and state programs are built around, but it can also obscure what’s actually happening in a household’s budget. A family earning $80,000 a year, after taxes and the cost of food, childcare, transportation, and healthcare, can really only afford around $1,200 a month for housing. Drop that income to $50,000, and there’s barely anything left over for housing at all, even after cutting corners everywhere else.
Programs also sort households by Area Median Income (AMI), the regional midpoint income set annually by the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD), into brackets like extremely low income (30% AMI), very low income (50%), low income (60% in North Carolina), and moderate income (80%). These brackets determine which agencies and programs are even legally allowed to serve a given household, which matters enormously once you get into who’s actually eligible for help.
Supply gets organized the same way, on a continuum: emergency shelter and transitional housing on one end for the most vulnerable, income-restricted units (built through programs like the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit) in the middle, and market-rate rentals and homeownership on the other end. Government subsidy is vital at the low end simply because the math doesn’t work otherwise: if a household can only afford $300 a month in rent, but it costs several hundred dollars more to operate that unit, someone has to cover the gap. That’s not a design flaw; it’s the point of the subsidy.
Roughly 85% of North Carolina’s affordable rental units aren’t subsidized at all: they’re “naturally occurring affordable housing,” affordable only because of their age, condition, or location. That’s the bulk of the state’s affordable housing stock, and it’s also the most exposed to renovation, redevelopment, or a hot market pushing prices up.
Where Domestic Violence Survivors Fall Into the Gaps
This is where the housing crisis becomes a safety crisis. Domestic violence is one of the leading causes of homelessness for women and children, and survivors face a set of barriers that make the general affordability crisis even harder to navigate:
– Financial abuse is common among survivors. Many have been cut off from family finances, blocked from working, or had their credit destroyed by a partner, all of which make it harder to qualify for housing on their own (call-out quote along with being present in the list)
– Survivors can face housing discrimination tied to a partner’s criminal or violent history, even when they themselves did nothing wrong.
– Confidentiality and safety needs limit where and what kind of housing survivors can safely access, and many mainstream homelessness assistance programs aren’t built with those needs in mind.
– Landlords are often hesitant to rent to survivors at all, especially in a tight rental market where they can afford to be selective.
Marginalized survivors (people of color, LGBTQ individuals, immigrants, people who are formerly incarcerated, and people with disabilities) face compounded barriers to safety on top of all of this.
Programs like NC’s Safe at Home rapid re-housing initiative, funded through HUD and the NC Balance of State Continuum of Care, exist specifically to connect survivors to permanent housing quickly and without the usual entry barriers: case management, childcare help, moving cost assistance, job training, and legal services all bundled together (bold “quickly connect individuals and families experiencing homelessness to permanent housing, without preconditions and barriers to entry”).
Emergency Shelter Isn’t Always the Answer
It’s worth pausing on something easy to overlook: transitional housing and shelter access isn’t a one-size-fits-all solution for survivors. Leaving home for a shelter can mean a longer commute to work, pulling kids out of their school, or additional trauma layered onto an already traumatic situation. Some survivors move between shelters for years without landing anywhere permanent, simply because there isn’t enough stable, affordable housing to move into.
And the housing shortage doesn’t just strand survivors; it can also complicate accountability for people who cause harm. When someone is served with a restraining order and has to leave their household, a shortage of affordable housing makes it genuinely difficult for them to comply, which in turn puts survivors at greater risk.
Homelessness data collected across HUD’s federal categories also has a known gap: the definition used to count “homeless” households doesn’t fully capture people fleeing domestic violence, dating violence, sexual assault, or stalking: even though these are explicitly recognized as a distinct category of housing instability under federal statute. That mismatch between definition and lived reality means funding doesn’t always reach the people who need it most.
Why This Matters for Cross-Sector Work
None of this is solvable by any single sector alone. It takes coordination between local governments (who hold statutory authority over how AMI-based funding is spent), nonprofits and domestic violence service providers (who understand survivors’ specific safety needs), and private landlords and developers (who control the supply of naturally occurring affordable units that most people, including survivors, actually rely on).
That’s the whole premise behind Our State, Our Homes: getting cross-sector teams from 22 counties into the same room, using the same shared language around affordability, AMI, and the housing continuum, so that when it comes time to design solutions, for survivors or for any other vulnerable population, everyone is working from the same map.
This post draws on research and programming from Carolina Across 100’s Our State, Our Homes initiative, coordinated by the UNC School of Government’s ncIMPACT Initiative, along with public materials from the NC Coalition Against Domestic Violence, the National Network to End Domestic Violence, and the Center for Justice Innovation.
Citations
Webinar: What We Mean When We Talk About Affordable Housing
Webinar: Coordinating to Address Homelessness: Insights from State and Local Practice
Resource: Manufactured Housing and the Power of Resident Ownership
Resource: Establishing and Operating a Community Land Trust
Why Housing Justice Is Crucial to Ending Domestic Violence, Center for Justice Innovation
The Impact of Safe Housing on Survivors of Domestic Violence, National Network to End Domestic Violence
Housing for Survivors of Domestic Violence, NC Coalition Against Domestic Violence
Marissa Snowden
Hope Brought Us Here
A story of community through North Carolina’s LGBTQ+ history
A History of Hope
The year is 1973. A geography professor at UNC Charlotte stands before a judge. His is not a crime of violence, but of a “crime against nature.” Norfleet Jarrell was arrested during a police sting targeting gay men in Charlotte’s Freedom Park. He was sentenced to seven to ten years in prison. After unsuccessfully appealing his conviction, he was released in 1980.
The year is 2026. Franklin Street in Chapel Hill is alive with more than a thousand people as they gather for the Franklin Street Pride Promenade. Meanwhile, Governor Josh Stein officially proclaims June 2026 as LGBTQ+ Pride Month in North Carolina, a tradition held in the state for the ninth consecutive year.

Franklin Street Pride Promenade 2026. Image from The Local Reporter, by Randy B. Young.
The distance between these moments cannot be measured in years alone. It is measured in courage, community, and most of all, hope.
It is easy to watch the daily news or scroll on social media and wonder whether progress can endure. Yet North Carolina’s LGBTQ+ history insists that it can. Again and again, North Carolinians have persevered regardless of the obstacles or uncertainty in their path. They organized, cared for one another, refused to stay silent, and imagined a state that did not yet exist. The North Carolina we live in today is a place we have inherited because of their unrelenting hope. This hope did not follow a linear path, but a persistent one.
Finding One Another
Before there were Pride Month and festivals, there were simply queer individuals searching for community, wanting to know they were not alone. The first glimmers of hope looked like finding one another.
While many may think North Carolina’s LGBTQ+ history begins in the 1960s and 1970s, evidence of diverse expressions of gender and sexuality appeared over a hundred years prior. In 1825, an unnamed white traveler documented Cherokee individuals who he described as male who wore women’s clothing and assumed women’s roles. Later accounts by Charles C. Trowbridge and playwright John Howard Payne also documented same-sex relationships and gender diversity among Cherokee people.
Today, these histories are told through the lens of Two-Spirit identities; a modern pan-Indigenous term encompassing culturally specific understandings of gender, sexuality, spirituality, and social roles. The term itself did not emerge until the early 1990s, however, and should not be understood simply as an Indigenous equivalent of modern Western identities such as gay or transgender. These early accounts instead remind us that diverse experiences of gender and sexuality existed among Indigenous people long before North Carolina’s laws attempted to criminalize them.
As colonization continued to reshape the region, so too did ideas about gender and sexuality. In 1836, North Carolina general statute provided: “If any person shall commit the abominable and detestable crime against nature, with mankind or beast, he shall be imprisoned in the state’s prison for not less than five nor more than sixty years,” making same-sex intimacy a felony under state law.
Yet history is not fully defined by the laws people live under; it is the lives they live despite them. Across North Carolina, LGBTQ+ people found one another at libraries, churches, sports events, and bars. The Wilson Library at UNC Chapel Hill was a popular place for gay men to meet friends and seek relationships. Gay clubs such as the Ponderosa, the Tempo, and the Washington Duke Hotel Bar became places for people to more openly share their sexual orientations and gender identities.
In 1976, students at UNC Chapel Hill hosted the first Southeastern Gay Conference, bringing together voices from across the South to not only create community but to imagine a future where they could gather more openly and not be criminalized for simply existing. More than 300 people participated in panels and conversations that included academia, media, and research. The conference celebrated its 50th anniversary this year.

University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
This momentum continued five years later in 1981, when Durham hosted Our Day Out, North Carolina’s first Pride march.
The written word was also a way to give voice to the community. The Feminary, a lesbian feminist literature newsletter, was published from 1969-1982 by graduate students at UNC Chapel Hill, offering poetry, personal essays, art, and news.

Cover of Feminary, a feminist journal that emphasized lesbian identity created and published by graduate students at UNC Chapel Hill. Summary 1978 edition. Image from OurHistory.org
During this time hope was not always displayed so publicly, but was a constant presence, nonetheless. In 1982, as the AIDS epidemic struck fear into the community, the Durham-based Lesbian and Gay Health Project was the first organization in the state to provide targeted health resources for individuals living with HIV or AIDS. In 1985, they established Healthline, a hotline for people impacted by HIV or AIDS. This hotline was run by volunteers who provided information about health services and connected people across the LGBTQ+ community. The exact location was never disclosed, and the key was kept in Francesca’s Dessert Caffe. Sometimes hope was simply someone answering a telephone.
Faces of Hope
[Editorial note: My vision for this section would be to mirror the student voices section in this blog post — https://carolinaacross100.unc.edu/never-think-its-too-late-for-you/ — with each person’s name, picture, and information.]Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray
Durham | Civil rights advocate who transformed American law, faith, and social justice
Born and raised in Durham, the Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray spent a lifetime challenging the societal boundaries imposed on race and gender. A lawyer, author, civil rights activist, and Episcopal priest, Murray laid the legal foundation for landmark Supreme Court decisions including Brown v. Board of Education and Reed v. Reed. Many scholars recognize Rev. Dr. Murray as a transgender trailblazer whose writings revealed a lifelong struggle with gender identity long before language like transgender existed. Today, murals across Durham and the Pauli Murray Center for History and Social Justice stand as lasting reminders of the impact one North Carolinian’s hope can have for years to come.

Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray. Image from the North Carolina Collection Photographic Archives, The Wilson Special Collections Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
Rev. William Wallace Finlator
Raleigh | Pastor and advocate for LGBTQ+, civil, and women’s rights
Pullen Memorial Baptist Church in Raleigh supported LGBTQ+ rights as early as the 1950s under the leadership of Rev. William Wallace Finlator, who used his position as a pastor to advocate for LGBTQ+, civil, and women’s rights. During a time when same-sex relationships were criminalized in North Carolina, Finlator spoke publicly on behalf of these marginalized communities. His willingness to challenge the attitudes of that time made Pullen Memorial a place where LGBTQ+ North Carolinians could find peace, and someone who was willing to openly stand beside them.

Rev. William Wallace Finlator. Image from the Raleigh Hall of Fame website.
Mandy Carter
Durham | Activist and organizer who helped build LGBTQ+ movements across the South
Mandy Carter arrived in Durham in 1982 and became one of North Carolina’s most influential LGBTQ+ organizers. She helped the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force organize their annual Creating Change Conference in Durham in 1993. She co-founded Equality NC, Southerners on New Ground (SONG), and the National Black Justice Coalition, while helping mobilize LGBTQ+ voters across the state. In 2008, she became one of the five National Co-Chairs of Obama LGBT Pride, the grassroots LGBTQ+ infrastructure for Barack Obama’s presidential campaign.

Mandy Carter. Image from the LGBTQ Religious Archives Network.
Joe Herzenberg
Chapel Hill | Civil rights advocate and North Carolina’s first openly gay elected official
Joe Herzenberg arrived in Chapel Hill in 1969 to pursue a graduate degree in history at the UNC Chapel Hill. Along with his partner Lightning Brown, he became deeply involved in local politics and civil rights. In 1987, he made history as North Carolina’s first openly gay elected official when voters in Chapel Hill elected him to the Town Council. He served again after reelection in 1991 and was selected as mayor pro tem.

Joe Herzenberg. Image from the Town of Chapel Hill website.
Michael Nelson
Carrboro | Public servant and North Carolina’s first openly gay mayor
After serving two years on Carrboro’s Board of Aldermen, Michael Nelson became the state’s first openly gay mayor after being elected in Carrboro in 1995. He served five consecutive terms as mayor and met with President Bill Clinton in 1999 during a meeting arranged by LGBTQ+ Victory Institute. During this meeting, 11 openly LGBTQ+ elected officials urged President Clinton to encourage Congress to pass the Hate Crimes Prevention Act and the Employment Non-Discrimination Act.

Michael Nelson. Image from the LGBTQ+ Victory Institute website.
These lives represent more than individual accomplishments. They reflect communities that began to see themselves represented for the first time. In courtrooms and city halls, churches and voting booths, people who had once thought they would remain invisible for their whole life were becoming leaders. Perhaps most importantly, their visibility allowed others to imagine what might be possible for themselves. Each person who stepped forward made it a little easier for someone else to follow.
Serving in Silence
Service members in the military were not exempt from struggle. For them, serving to preserve the freedom of others meant laying down their own freedom of self. In 1993, President Bill Clinton issued the “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” Directive (DADT), which prohibited service members from being questioned about their personal lives, but did not protect them from punishment or even discharge if their “sexual misconduct” was discovered. For nearly two decades this policy forced service members into choosing between serving their country and living authentically. When the policy was repealed in 2011, some Fort Bragg soldiers who had once served in silence began to step forward. They not only desired to live openly, but they wanted to help others do the same.
U.S. Army Staff Sergeant Joshua Gravett of the 82nd Airborne Division had avoided dating for eight years while serving under DADT. After its repeal, he began living openly, even wearing a “legalized gay” shirt the first day he reported to Fort Bragg. In 2012, he brought his partner, Shane, to an 82nd Airborne Division formal. They were the first openly gay couple known to attend such an event. Only a few years earlier, Gravett’s military service required him to keep a part of his life hidden. It was a small moment in the long history of LGBTQ+ rights, but a powerful reminder that even institutions rooted in tradition can change.
When Hope Changed the Law
In 2003, the Supreme Court’s decision in Lawrence v. Texas struck down laws criminalizing consensual same-sex relationships, ending the legal foundation that had once been used to imprison North Carolinians like Norfleet Jarrell. Eleven years later in 2014, marriage equality became law in North Carolina, extending to same-sex couples the legal recognition and protections afforded to heterosexual couples. These victories did not come suddenly; they were built upon decades of perseverance by people who refused to relegate themselves to the status quo.
The Hope We Carry Forward
North Carolina’s LGBTQ+ history is not simply a story of hardship, nor a story of unimpeded progress. It is a story of people who believed in themselves, and in each other when doing so could result in persecution, prison, or even death. Today, we enjoy more freedom to live aloud, be ourselves, gather at Pride parades, preserve our stories, and honor those who have come before us to make these things possible.
Looking back is not about dwelling on the past or avoiding the future. As Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray wrote in Proud Shoes:
“It has taken me almost a lifetime to discover that true emancipation lies in the acceptance of the whole past, in deriving strength from all my roots, in facing up to the degradation as well as the dignity of my ancestors.”
There is hope in remembrance. There is hope in knowing that previous generations were brave enough to leave us a North Carolina safer and more welcoming than the one they inherited, and now we have the opportunity to do the same. To live openly and authentically, without fear of persecution, is not a privilege. It is a right that generations before us fought for.
There will always be moments when the future feels uncertain. Yet our history stands as a reminder that uncertainty has served as a catalyst for change and progress. Time after time, North Carolinians have met uncertainty with action. Many fought for a future they could only imagine. Thanks to them, we are now living in that future.
That is why hope endures. It has endured through criminalization, discrimination, silence, and fear. Hope is not the absence of hardship; it is the determination to build toward something better, even when the path ahead may be yet unseen. May the hope of North Carolinians past and the actions of those present carry us forward, as we continue creating a community where love always wins.
Learn More About North Carolina’s LGBTQ+ History
NCpedia – LGBTQIA+ People in North Carolina
A broad history of LGBTQ+ life in North Carolina, from early documented histories through community organizing, gathering spaces, Feminary, the AIDS epidemic, and the growth of the state’s LGBTQ+ movement.
Explore LGBTQIA+ People in North Carolina on NCpedia
Indian Health Service – Two-Spirit
An overview of Two-Spirit identities, including the diverse gender, social, and spiritual roles found across Indigenous cultures and the impact of colonization on these traditions.
Learn More About Two-Spirit Identities
UNC Chapel Hill – Southeastern Gay Conference: 50 Years
Explore the history and legacy of the 1976 Southeastern Gay Conference, where more than 300 people gathered at UNC Chapel Hill to build community and envision a different future for LGBTQ+ people across the South.
Explore the Southeastern Gay Conference’s History
Pauli Murray Center for History and Social Justice – Pauli Murray Murals
Explore the murals honoring the Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray throughout Durham and learn how community art has preserved Murray’s life, words, and legacy.
Explore the Pauli Murray Murals
LGBTQ Religious Archives Network – Mandy Carter
An in-depth profile of Durham activist Mandy Carter and her decades of work in civil rights, peace activism, LGBTQ+ advocacy, and political organizing.
Read Mandy Carter’s Profile
Town of Chapel Hill – Joe Herzenberg and LGBTQ+ History
Learn more about Joe Herzenberg and the history of LGBTQ+ political representation and advocacy in Chapel Hill.
Explore the Town of Chapel Hill LGBTQ+ History
Pride & Progress – Michael Nelson
The story of Michael Nelson’s historic 1995 election as North Carolina’s first openly gay mayor and the significance of LGBTQ+ representation in elected office.
Explore Michael Nelson’s Story
LGBTQ+ Victory Institute – Historic White House Meeting
Explore the history of LGBTQ+ political representation in the United States, including the historic 1999 White House meeting between President Bill Clinton and 11 openly LGBTQ+ elected officials.
Explore the LGBTQ+ Victory Institute’s History
U.S. Army – “Fort Bragg Gay Soldiers Serve Openly”
First-person stories from LGBTQ+ soldiers on serving openly at Fort Bragg following the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” including Staff Sergeant Joshua Gravett of the 82nd Airborne Division.
Read the U.S. Army Story
The Charlotte Observer – Norfleet Jarrell and North Carolina’s “Crime Against Nature” Law
Historical reporting on the law that criminalized same-sex intimacy in North Carolina and the prosecution of UNC Charlotte professor Norfleet Jarrell.
Read 50 Years of Legal Battles for LGBTQ Rights
Taylor Cicero
Taylor authored a report on the impact of the RuralRx program, detailing the need for expanded rural pharmacy access, project activities, and future directions for the work. The report will be made available in Fall 2026!
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As opportunities to engage with Carolina Across 100 continue to build, student talent will be an instrumental part of how we conduct this work and how we communicate findings and resources. Stay connected to be the first to know as new opportunities are announced.









