Imagine a Christian university silencing students for daring to hold conservative views in the name of staying "apolitical." That’s the reality at Vanguard University in Costa Mesa, California, where a bold student-led chapter of Turning Point USA, headed by third-year student Sadie Burnett, has been denied recognition as an official campus organization.
At its core, this story is about Vanguard University’s recent policy shift to bar political advocacy clubs, forcing the Turning Point USA chapter to operate unofficially despite an active presence on campus since 2023.
Back in 2023, the Turning Point USA group was making waves at Vanguard, hosting events and engaging students during club rush with enthusiasm. They were even in the process of applying for official status as a registered student organization. But the university was already pivoting away from political clubs, disbanding its inter-club council for a new student organization model.
Fast forward to this fall, and Vanguard cemented its stance with a formal policy against campus clubs tied to political advocacy. The school now funnels any political activism through administrative channels rather than recognizing such groups. It’s a curious pivot for an institution with a political science department, don’t you think?
The impact on Turning Point USA is stark. They’re allowed to gather on campus, but only outdoors and without any official standing as a conservative entity. No room bookings, no university funding, and no tabling events to connect with peers—privileges reserved for registered groups.
Sadie Burnett, the chapter’s president, isn’t mincing words about the frustration this causes. “If I wanted to go to a college or a university that was anti-conservative, but at least they let me speak, I would have absolutely chosen to go there,” she said. “I feel like I got the rug pulled out from under me from the decision that I chose to come to this school.”
Burnett’s disappointment cuts deep, especially when she reflects on the chapter’s past vibrancy. “Since 2023, we've had a lively and very active presence on campus,” she noted. “It was even something that made us stand out as a Christian university, which was the fact that Turning Point was practiced, and it was not only practiced, but it was also celebrated.”
Now, compare that to the university’s stance, articulated by spokesperson Amanda Lebrecht, who insists they’re not silencing students. “We will continue to engage these students, and we will continue to try to find a way to help them meet their goals and have it work within the Vanguard community,” Lebrecht said. But channeling voices “in a different way” feels like a polite sidestep when core privileges are stripped away.
Let’s be clear: Vanguard isn’t banning all clubs. Cultural and heritage groups like the Black Student Union, active for over a decade, are welcomed to foster belonging. Yet, political advocacy, especially from a conservative angle, seems to be the odd one out.
The university has rolled out initiatives like the “Year of Civility” for the 2024-2025 academic year, promoting Christ-centered leadership through events. This year’s theme, “Courageous Conversations,” even brought pro-life activist Lila Rose to campus with student input. Admirable efforts, sure, but do they replace the raw energy of student-led political discourse?
Vanguard’s setup, sharing its campus with local police and fire departments for added safety, shows a commitment to security. Yet, when it comes to ideological safety, the Turning Point chapter feels exposed. A vigil they hosted in September after the tragic loss of Charlie Kirk underscores their resolve to stand firm despite the restrictions.
A memorial service for Kirk at State Farm Stadium in Glendale, Arizona, further highlighted the group’s dedication to their cause. It’s a poignant reminder that these students aren’t just “hanging out,” as Burnett humbly puts it—they’re fighting for a voice.
Here’s the rub: Vanguard’s push for an apolitical campus seems to clash with the very essence of a university as a battleground for ideas. Shouldn’t a Christian institution, of all places, champion the right to speak boldly on matters of conviction? Turning away political clubs feels less like neutrality and more like neutering a vital conversation.
While the administration offers alternatives like academic social clubs through departments, it’s hard to see this as anything but a consolation prize. Students like Burnett aren’t asking for special treatment—just a fair shot to engage their peers without being relegated to the campus lawn.
In the end, Vanguard University’s policy might aim for harmony, but it risks alienating those who see faith as a call to action in the public square. The Turning Point USA chapter, though sidelined, isn’t backing down. And in a world where conservative voices often feel muzzled by progressive agendas, their persistence is a quiet kind of courage worth watching.
