Faced with a directive from the General Assembly to redirect $15 million from university research and policy centers  across the state, the UNC Board of Governors has spent months studying all 240 such centers systemwide. On Wednesday, the board's working group on the issue recommended closing UNC Chapel Hill's Center on Poverty, Work and Opportunity. The center's director, Gene Nichol, has been an outspoken critic of N.C. Republican leaders' policies concerning the poor.
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| Gene Nichol | 
He responded to their action with this statement:
Poverty is North Carolina’s greatest challenge. In one of the most 
economically vibrant states of the richest nation on earth, 18 percent of us 
live in wrenching poverty. Twenty-five percent of our kids. Forty percent of our 
children of color. We have one of the country’s fastest rising poverty rates.
A decade ago, North Carolina had the 26th highest rate among the states. Now 
we’re ninth, speeding past the competition. Greensboro is America’s 
second-hungriest city. Asheville is ninth. Charlotte has the nation’s worst 
economic mobility. Over the last decade, North Carolina experienced the 
country’s steepest rise in concentrated poverty. Poverty, amidst plenty, stains 
the life of this commonwealth. Even if our leaders never discuss it.
And, astonishing as they are, these bloodless statistics don’t fully reveal 
the crush of economic hardship. That resides more brutally in the terror and 
despondency of the 150 or more homeless Tar Heels living in the woods and under 
the bridges of Hickory; or in the 1,100 wounded souls waiting in line, most all 
night long, outside the Fayetteville civic center, desperate for free dental 
care; or in the quivering voice of the Winston-Salem father who describes 
deciding which of his children will eat today and which, only, tomorrow; or in 
the daughter from Wilson fretting for her 62-year-old father with heart disease 
who can’t see a doctor unless he scrapes together the $400 he owes and has no 
prospects for.
Some believe such urgencies are beyond the focus of a great public 
university. Bill Friday wasn’t among them. An active and engaged Poverty Center 
board member, from its founding until the last days of his life, President 
Friday felt it crucial “to turn UNC’s mighty engine loose on the lacerating 
issue of poverty.” He constantly challenged our students: “A million poor North 
Carolinians pay taxes to subsidize your education. What are you going to do to 
pay them back?”
I’ve been blessed with a long and varied academic career. But none of my 
efforts has approached the extraordinary honor of working, side by side, with 
North Carolina low-income communities and the dedicated advocates and providers 
who serve them. Together, we have sought to focus a meaningful light on the 
challenges of poverty and to push back against policies that foster economic 
injustice. No doubt those messages are uncongenial to the governor and General 
Assembly. But poverty is the enemy, not the Poverty Center.
I have been repeatedly informed, even officially, that my opinion pieces have 
“caused great ire and dismay” among state officials and that, unless I stopped 
publishing in The News & Observer, “external forces might combine in the 
months ahead” to force my dismissal. Today those threats are brought to 
fruition. The Board of Governors’ tedious, expensive and supremely dishonest 
review process yields the result it sought all along – closing the Poverty 
Center. This charade, and the censorship it triggers, demeans the board, the 
university, academic freedom and the Constitution. It’s also mildly ironic that 
the university now abolishes the center for the same work that led it to give me 
the Thomas Jefferson Award a year ago.
The Poverty Center runs on an annual budget of about $120,000. None comes 
from the state. Grant funding has been secured through 2016. These private 
dollars will now be returned. UNC will have fewer resources, not more. Two 
terrific young lawyers will lose their jobs. Student education, employment and 
publication opportunities will be constricted. Most importantly, North 
Carolina’s understanding of the challenges of poverty will be weakened. These 
are significant costs to pay for politicians’ thin skin.
Personally, I’m honored to be singled out for retribution by these agents of 
wealth, privilege and exclusion. I remain a tenured law professor. When the 
Poverty Center is abolished, I’ll have more time to write, to speak, and to 
protest North Carolina’s burgeoning war on poor people. I’ll use it.
Fifty years ago, Chancellor William Aycock testified against the Speaker Ban 
Law, saying if UNC bowed to such external pressures, as it does today, it would 
forfeit its claim to be a university. He noted: “Our legislators do not look 
with favor on persons, especially teachers, who express views different than 
their own.” But no public official can be “afforded such immunity.” Leaders 
“freely extol the supposed benefits of their programs, but object to their 
harmful effects being called to the attention of the citizenry. ... The right to 
think as one wills and to speak as one thinks are requisite to a free society. 
They are indispensable to education.”
--Eric Frazier