UCLA Fires DEI Director After Cheering Charlie Kirk’s Death—Campus Speech War Erupts

Paul Riverbank, 2/6/2026UCLA fires DEI director over divisive post on Charlie Kirk, sparking major campus free speech clash.

When word broke that Charlie Kirk—polarizing, strident, relentlessly controversial—had been shot on a Utah campus, Perkins didn’t hesitate. As director of Diversity, Equity and Inclusion at UCLA, the kind of role that usually demands temperance, he instead swung hard and fast: “Good riddance,” he wrote online, later adding, “I’m always glad when bigots die.” To him it felt cathartic, a natural extension of private opinions aired in a public forum, Bluesky, the social platform favored by some progressives who’d abandoned X.

What came afterward wasn’t so much a backlash as a detonation. Screenshots scattered like wind-blown papers. Outrage zipped across inboxes, not just at UCLA but nationwide. Threats landed in Perkins’ DMs; long threads of debate lit up forums from LA to DC.

UCLA—the administration rarely ventures into such hot water publicly—came out with a crisp condemnation: Celebrating violence, they proclaimed, undermines everything the university stands for. Perkins was benched instantly; the investigation followed like the next act in a grim play.

By late January, the verdict was blunt: Perkins was out, fired just two weeks before Valentine’s Day. The university didn’t mince words, warning that his effort to spark conversation had instead torched any “trust in your leadership.” It was all there in black and white, on university letterhead, the sort of document that—if you’ve ever been fired—tends to stick in the memory.

He won’t fade away quietly. No, Perkins is a lawyer by trade, and in a turn that will surprise absolutely no one familiar with academic politics, he’s mounting a legal challenge. His GoFundMe, with a photograph of his dog and cat to tug at donors’ sympathies, quickly crept past $10,000. “Clear violation of my First Amendment right to free speech,” he wrote online—a refrain echoing across his supporters’ Twitter feeds.

It wasn’t just local pressure. The day Kirk died, conservative figureheads saw an opportunity. Vice President JD Vance, new to the role and already showing an appetite for high-profile interventions, publicly demanded that universities fire anyone who cheered Kirk’s assassination. Funding, he suggested, might just hinge on it.

UCLA was already feeling heat: only weeks before, the Trump administration forced them to settle a $1.2 billion claim for mishandling antisemitism complaints. The ghosts of campus speech battles past lingered; scrutiny of DEI programs was both relentless and—depending who you ask—inevitable.

Of course, Perkins wasn’t the only one caught in the crossfire. According to figures reviewed by the Times, more than a hundred university staff and faculty across the U.S. saw disciplinary measures after sounding off about Kirk’s death, some in cruder terms than Perkins. A handful have returned to their jobs. Some took cash settlements; others are locked in lingering disputes, their academic careers on ice.

This is the kind of precedent that alarms free speech advocates. “Discipline for offensive speech that’s nevertheless protected under the law is worsening as universities face federal pressure,” Zach Greenberg, of the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression, announced after reviewing the latest round of dismissals.

The legal landscape is complex, wreathed in uncertainty. Most constitutional scholars agree: Public university employees do have First Amendment protections for off-duty speech, particularly when that speech touches on public matters—unless it provokes genuine workplace upheaval. Erwin Chemerinsky at Berkeley Law made his skepticism clear: “It’s highly unlikely a university could show those remarks were so disruptive as to justify firings,” he pointed out, though he admitted courts sometimes surprise.

Perkins is no stranger to controversy. Back in 2011, a self-admitted false claim of racial profiling dogged him at law school. In 2022, there was a tweet about Justice Clarence Thomas—“no one wants to openly admit [we all] hope Clarence Thomas dies”—that rattled his employer further. Just this year, he mused online that Catherine, Princess of Wales, might be feigning her cancer diagnosis. Each time, official warnings followed. But ask Perkins, and he’ll say his blunt style is honesty, not antagonism.

Turning Point USA kept him firmly in their crosshairs, listing him on their “Professor Watchlist.” Regardless of which side you’re on, it’s clear Perkins has a knack for finding the live wires of American discourse.

Those with a more old-school view—Todd Wolfson at the American Association of University Professors, for instance—are clear about where they stand: “Those statements may be offensive to some,” he allowed. “But they feel like they absolutely should exist within the bounds of acceptable political speech to me, and are not and should not be grounds for firing somebody.”

So, here’s Perkins: boxed-up books, pets in carriers, one hand tending to last calls from supporters as he leaves behind a $137,000-a-year post and heads back east to Philadelphia. The debate over what can and can’t be said on campus is nowhere near over. If anything, it’s metastasized, injecting new urgency into old questions about free expression, leadership, and the lines we draw in public discourse. For now, Perkins is just one more figure on that fraught frontline—fired, but vowing not to be silenced.

Walk into Johnathan Perkins’ Los Angeles apartment last September, and you’d probably have seen him typing furiously, maybe a mug of coffee close by, blinds drawn against the shrill afternoon sun. The houseplants crowding his window sill couldn’t have guessed what would happen next.When word broke that Charlie Kirk—polarizing, strident, relentlessly controversial—had been shot on a Utah campus, Perkins didn’t hesitate. As director of Diversity, Equity and Inclusion at UCLA, the kind of role that usually demands temperance, he instead swung hard and fast: “Good riddance,” he wrote online, later adding, “I’m always glad when bigots die.” To him it felt cathartic, a natural extension of private opinions aired in a public forum, Bluesky, the social platform favored by some progressives who’d abandoned X.What came afterward wasn’t so much a backlash as a detonation. Screenshots scattered like wind-blown papers. Outrage zipped across inboxes, not just at UCLA but nationwide. Threats landed in Perkins’ DMs; long threads of debate lit up forums from LA to DC.UCLA—the administration rarely ventures into such hot water publicly—came out with a crisp condemnation: Celebrating violence, they proclaimed, undermines everything the university stands for. Perkins was benched instantly; the investigation followed like the next act in a grim play.By late January, the verdict was blunt: Perkins was out, fired just two weeks before Valentine’s Day. The university didn’t mince words, warning that his effort to spark conversation had instead torched any “trust in your leadership.” It was all there in black and white, on university letterhead, the sort of document that—if you’ve ever been fired—tends to stick in the memory.He won’t fade away quietly. No, Perkins is a lawyer by trade, and in a turn that will surprise absolutely no one familiar with academic politics, he’s mounting a legal challenge. His GoFundMe, with a photograph of his dog and cat to tug at donors’ sympathies, quickly crept past $10,000. “Clear violation of my First Amendment right to free speech,” he wrote online—a refrain echoing across his supporters’ Twitter feeds.It wasn’t just local pressure. The day Kirk died, conservative figureheads saw an opportunity. Vice President JD Vance, new to the role and already showing an appetite for high-profile interventions, publicly demanded that universities fire anyone who cheered Kirk’s assassination. Funding, he suggested, might just hinge on it.UCLA was already feeling heat: only weeks before, the Trump administration forced them to settle a $1.2 billion claim for mishandling antisemitism complaints. The ghosts of campus speech battles past lingered; scrutiny of DEI programs was both relentless and—depending who you ask—inevitable.Of course, Perkins wasn’t the only one caught in the crossfire. According to figures reviewed by the Times, more than a hundred university staff and faculty across the U.S. saw disciplinary measures after sounding off about Kirk’s death, some in cruder terms than Perkins. A handful have returned to their jobs. Some took cash settlements; others are locked in lingering disputes, their academic careers on ice.This is the kind of precedent that alarms free speech advocates. “Discipline for offensive speech that’s nevertheless protected under the law is worsening as universities face federal pressure,” Zach Greenberg, of the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression, announced after reviewing the latest round of dismissals.The legal landscape is complex, wreathed in uncertainty. Most constitutional scholars agree: Public university employees do have First Amendment protections for off-duty speech, particularly when that speech touches on public matters—unless it provokes genuine workplace upheaval. Erwin Chemerinsky at Berkeley Law made his skepticism clear: “It’s highly unlikely a university could show those remarks were so disruptive as to justify firings,” he pointed out, though he admitted courts sometimes surprise.Perkins is no stranger to controversy. Back in 2011, a self-admitted false claim of racial profiling dogged him at law school. In 2022, there was a tweet about Justice Clarence Thomas—“no one wants to openly admit [we all] hope Clarence Thomas dies”—that rattled his employer further. Just this year, he mused online that Catherine, Princess of Wales, might be feigning her cancer diagnosis. Each time, official warnings followed. But ask Perkins, and he’ll say his blunt style is honesty, not antagonism.Turning Point USA kept him firmly in their crosshairs, listing him on their “Professor Watchlist.” Regardless of which side you’re on, it’s clear Perkins has a knack for finding the live wires of American discourse.Those with a more old-school view—Todd Wolfson at the American Association of University Professors, for instance—are clear about where they stand: “Those statements may be offensive to some,” he allowed. “But they feel like they absolutely should exist within the bounds of acceptable political speech to me, and are not and should not be grounds for firing somebody.”So, here’s Perkins: boxed-up books, pets in carriers, one hand tending to last calls from supporters as he leaves behind a $137,000-a-year post and heads back east to Philadelphia. The debate over what can and can’t be said on campus is nowhere near over. If anything, it’s metastasized, injecting new urgency into old questions about free expression, leadership, and the lines we draw in public discourse. For now, Perkins is just one more figure on that fraught frontline—fired, but vowing not to be silenced.