The Brief

Students don’t have the same incentives to talk to their professors — or even their classmates — anymore. Chatbots like ChatGPT, Gemini and Claude have given them a new path to self-sufficiency. Instead of asking a professor for help on a paper topic, students can go to a chatbot. Instead of forming a study group, students can ask AI for help. These chatbots give them quick responses, on their own timeline.

For students juggling school, work and family responsibilities, that ease can seem like a lifesaver. And maybe turning to a chatbot for homework help here and there isn’t such a big deal in isolation. But every time a student decides to ask a question of a chatbot instead of a professor or peer or tutor, that’s one fewer opportunity to build or strengthen a relationship, and the human connections students make on campus are among the most important benefits of college.

Julia Freeland-Fisher studies how technology can help or hinder student success at the Clayton Christensen Institute. She said the consequences of turning to chatbots for help can compound.

“Over time, that means students have fewer and fewer people in their corner who can help them in other moments of struggle, who can help them in ways a bot might not be capable of,” she said.

As colleges further embed ChatGPT and other chatbots into campus life, Freeland-Fisher warns lost relationships may become a devastating unintended consequence.

Asking for help

Christian Alba said he has never turned in an AI-written assignment. Alba, 20, attends College of the Canyons, a large community college north of Los Angeles, where he is studying business and history. And while he hasn’t asked ChatGPT to write any papers for him, he has turned to the technology when a blank page and a blinking cursor seemed overwhelming. He has asked for an outline. He has asked for ideas to get him started on an introduction. He has asked for advice about what to prioritize first.

“It’s kind of hard to just start something fresh off your mind,” Alba said. “I won’t lie. It’s a helpful tool.” Alba has wondered, though, whether turning to ChatGPT with these sorts of questions represents an overreliance on AI. But Alba, like many others in higher education, worries primarily about AI use as it relates to academic integrity, not social capital. And that’s a problem.

Jean Rhodes, a psychology professor at the University of Massachusetts Boston, has spent decades studying the way college students seek help on campus and how the relationships formed during those interactions end up benefitting the students long-term. Rhodes doesn’t begrudge students integrating chatbots into their workflows, as many of their professors have, but she worries that students will get inferior answers to even simple-sounding questions, like, “how do I change my major?”

A chatbot might point a student to the registrar’s office, Rhodes said, but had a student asked the question of an advisor, that person may have asked important follow-up questions — why the student wants the change, for example, which could lead to a deeper conversation about a student’s goals and roadblocks.

“We understand the broader context of students’ lives,” Rhodes said. “They’re smart but they’re not wise, these tools.”

Rhodes and one of her former doctoral students, Sarah Schwartz, created a program called Connected Scholars to help students understand why it’s valuable to talk to professors and have mentors. The program helped them hone their networking skills and understand what people get out of their networks over the course of their lives — namely, social capital.

Connected Scholars is offered as a semester-long course at U Mass Boston, and a forthcoming paper examines outcomes over the last decade, finding students who take the course are three times more likely to graduate. Over time, Rhodes and her colleagues discovered that the key to the program’s success is getting students past an aversion to asking others for help.

Students will make a plethora of excuses to avoid asking for help, Rhodes said, ticking off a list of them: “‘I don’t want to stand out,’ ‘I don’t want people to realize I don’t fit in here,’ ‘My culture values independence,’ ‘I shouldn’t reach out,’ ‘I’ll get anxious,’ ‘This person won’t respond.’ If you can get past that and get them to recognize the value of reaching out, it’s pretty amazing what happens.”

Connections are key

Seeking human help doesn’t only leave students with the resolution to a single problem, it gives them a connection to another person. And that person, down the line could become a friend, a mentor or a business partner — a “strong tie,” as social scientists describe their centrality to a person’s network. They could also become a “weak tie” who a student may not see often, but could, importantly, still offer a job lead or crucial social support one day.

Daniel Chambliss, a retired sociologist from Hamilton College, emphasized the value of relationships in his 2014 book, “How College Works,” co-authored with Christopher Takacs. Over the course of their research, the pair found that the key to a successful college experience boiled down to relationships, specifically two or three close friends and one or two trusted adults. Hamilton College goes out of its way to make sure students can form those relationships, structuring work-study to get students into campus offices and around faculty and staff, making room for students of varying athletic abilities on sports teams, and more.

“We understand the broader context of students’ lives. They’re smart but they’re not wise, these tools.”Jean Rhodes, a psychology professor at the University of Massachusetts BostonChambliss worries that AI-driven chatbots make it too easy to avoid interactions that can lead to important relationships. “We’re suffering epidemic levels of loneliness in America,” he said. “It’s a really major problem, historically speaking. It’s very unusual, and it’s profoundly bad for people.”

As students increasingly turn to artificial intelligence for help and even casual conversation, Chambliss predicted it will make people even more isolated: “It’s one more place where they won’t have a personal relationship.”

In fact, a recent study by researchers at the MIT Media Lab and OpenAI found that the most frequent users of ChatGPT — power users — were more likely to be lonely and isolated from human interaction.

“What scares me about that is that Big Tech would like all of us to be power users,” said Freeland-Fisher. “That’s in the fabric of the business model of a technology company.”

Yesenia Pacheco is preparing to re-enroll in Long Beach City College for her final semester after more than a year off. Last time she was on campus, ChatGPT existed, but it wasn’t widely used. Now she knows she’s returning to a college where ChatGPT is deeply embedded in students’ as well as faculty and staff’s lives, but Pacheco expects she’ll go back to her old habits — going to her professors’ office hours and sticking around after class to ask them questions. She sees the value.

She understands why others might not. Today’s high schoolers, she has noticed, are not used to talking to adults or building mentor-style relationships. At 24, she knows why they matter.

“A chatbot,” she said, “isn’t going to give you a letter of recommendation.”

This article was originally published on CalMatters and was republished under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license.

After years of faded storefronts, Inglewood’s Market Street is getting a facelift.

The Inglewood City Council voted 4-0 on Tuesday to move forward with plans to split $8.5 million in state grant money among Market Street businesses for renovation projects. 

Market Street’s shopping area, which runs south from Florence Avenue, has visibly lagged behind other corners of Inglewood during the city’s decade-long building blitz. 

“It’s a ghost town for the most part,” said Jeffrey Psalms, owner of the Cuban Leaf Cigar Lounge. 

The revitalization of Market Street “has always been a priority,” said Bernard McCrumby, the city’s development services director. He said city officials want the street to become a cultural hub that represents the best parts of Inglewood.

City leaders are timing their beautification efforts to coincide with a hopeful boost in foot traffic from the planned Inglewood Transit Connector. The city is currently moving to take over the shopping mall on Market Street and Florence Avenue for the transit station.

A large part of the city’s planning are the business renovation grants — up to $250,000 cash grants that McCrumby said business owners can use for internal or external improvements. McCrumby said the grants are conditional on building owners keeping rents stable for five years. 

The city has been working on the project since early 2025. McCrumby said the first group of awardees were notified this week, with another group coming soon. PCR Business Finance, a development advisory firm, is being paid by the city to run the program. 

Not every business on Market Street will get a grant. The city had more than 80 applicants ask for more than $17 million in grants last summer — well over what the city has available — and won’t be opening up for new applications, McCrumby said. 

Owen Smith, one of the co-owners of The Miracle Theater, said the theater won a $250,000 grant that it will use to repair the theater’s marquee and refresh the outside paint. Smith said the theater is hoping the grants and permits will come through before the FIFA World Cup. 

“It’s a boost,” he said. “We’ll see what it turns into.” 

Psalms, the cigar lounge owner, said he wasn’t able to apply for a grant because he couldn’t track down the owner of his building to sign off on an application. To him, he said, the program was a bust.

Inglewood is aiming to have all of its Market Street beautification efforts done in advance of the Olympics, McCrumby said.

Market Street is going in a different direction from its heyday, official says

Psalms recalled a different level of energy on the street when he was a child visiting the former Fox Theatre, the Big 5 and the Inglewood Marketplace swap meet. He believes there’s still a lot of potential.

“The intention to be better is there. I don’t think we’ve been forgotten about,” Psalms said. 

Where development in other parts of the city has spiked in recent years, Market Street has lagged. Sip & Sonder, a Black-owned coffee shop that held down a flagship spot on Market Street for seven years, closed in December. 

Psalms estimated half of the storefronts around his lounge are vacant. His own business remains stable, he said, thanks to a stream of out-of-town visitors. 

McCrumby said the street is starting to “go in a different direction” from its heyday. More bars and restaurants line the street than before, he said, and city residents should expect more service businesses as residential development continues in Inglewood’s downtown core. 

The city is also in the middle of planning for streetscape improvements that could include new lighting and landscaping. Last week, the city hosted meetings with business owners and community members to get feedback on designs.

For decades, people applying for Medicaid were told their personal information — including their names, addresses and immigration status — would not be used for immigration enforcement.

But a December court ruling changed that. And that change has sent ripples of fear through families and communities.

"My daughter's life depends on Medicaid," says P., who asked that NPR identify her by her first initial only.

P. and her family have legal immigration status, but she fears that the health insurance keeping her medically fragile daughter alive could also put her family at risk of being detained or deported by immigration authorities.

For decades Medicaid promised eligible immigrants they wouldn't share information with immigration authorities. It was even explicitly written on government websites. Those commitments are no longer on the Medicaid website.

The promise was meant to assure eligible immigrants "to feel comfortable that they can access their care without fear of putting their immigration status into jeopardy," says Cindy Mann, who oversaw Medicaid during the Obama administration and now works at the legal and consulting firm Manatt Health.

Mann calls the change, which the Trump administration began quietly last year, a "180-degree reversal of longstanding policy."

'Anxiety every day'

P.'s 11-year-old daughter has Rett Syndrome, a rare neurological condition that makes it hard for her to eat, breathe, walk and talk.

"She receives in-home support," P. says, along with frequent visits to cardiologists, pulmonologists and other specialists. "She also receives [physical therapy], [occupational therapy], speech, aquatic therapy on a weekly basis."

All this care would cost tens of thousands of dollars without Medicaid — the joint state and federal health insurance program for more than 70 million people with low-incomes or disabilities.

P. says she and her husband are allowed to work in the U.S. legally and have private health insurance through their jobs. They have two children who qualify for Medicaid coverage because of disabilities.

"It brings us an amount of anxiety every day," P. says. She's had friends detained by immigration authorities and she worries about her family's safety. This is the case even though everyone in P.'s family has legal status, including two of their children who are citizens.

Unusual requests 

Twenty-two states have sued to stop federal health agencies from sharing Medicaid data with the Department of Homeland Security, including Arizona, Michigan and New Jersey. At the moment, following the December ruling in federal court in San Francisco, Medicaid can share names, addresses and other identifying information for people who are in the country unlawfully with immigration officials. In the remaining 28 states including Texas, Kentucky and Utah, there are no limits on what Medicaid data can be shared with Immigration and Customs Enforcement and other entities.

Some other recent federal actions are raising new alarms.

One former state Medicaid director told NPR they received what they described as a highly unusual request from the federal government in summer 2025 — a list of mostly Latino-looking last names, with instructions to check only immigration status.

The director, who spoke on condition of anonymity because they were not authorized to discuss federal communications, said that's not how these reviews typically work. Usually, states are asked to review all criteria — income, disability and immigration status — to determine eligibility for the program, not single out one factor.

The director says they were floored. After reviewing the cases, they found everyone on the list remained eligible to continue with Medicaid.

Last August, the federal agency that oversees Medicaid, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services (CMS), started a new initiative to review immigration status of Medicaid enrollees. The agency said in a press release it would start sending monthly enrollment reports with names of people it needed states to verify.

The Department of Homeland Security did not respond to NPR's questions about whether the data has been used for immigration enforcement. In the Federal Register and in a memo issued in October 2025, ICE says that it is rescinding a 2013 policy that said CMS and HHS data would not be used for immigration enforcement. The Associated Press first reported on the Trump administration's change in July 2025.

Choosing between care and fear

At Venice Family Clinic in Los Angeles, staff say patients are increasingly asking whether it's safe to remain on Medicaid.

Pattie Lopez manages the clinic's health insurance department. She says one patient became so worried about the policy change that she dropped her coverage — only to return after struggling without it.

"She found it incredibly hard to go without health coverage," Lopez says. "Now she's here taking a risk because she needs her medication."

Venice Family Clinic is qualified to receive special federal funding to take care of vulnerable communities, and 80% of its 45,000 patients rely on Medicaid. If people drop coverage but still need care, the clinic could face financial strain. It has already frozen hiring and is looking for other ways to cut costs.

Andrew Cohen, an attorney with Health Law Advocates in Massachusetts, said that for people already enrolled in Medicaid or other programs, the federal government likely has their information already.

"So remaining on coverage may be no additional risk," he said. "But there are instances where it may not be safe for everybody."

Some immigrants may be weighing whether to sign up or continue coverage. For P., though, walking away from Medicaid isn't possible.

"We don't have any other option," she says about dropping coverage for her severely disabled daughter. "We will have to risk that."

Without the coverage, she says, it's her daughter's life that would be at risk.

When Kate Morrow gave birth to twins eight years ago, they were very premature, with compromised immune systems.

"We counted on the community to keep our children safe," Morrow says. She trusted that her neighbors were vaccinating their children to protect other vulnerable people in her community — including her twins. But that's no longer the case.

Morrow and her family moved to Spartanburg County, S.C., in 2019. The area is the epicenter of the biggest measles outbreak in the U.S. in more than three decades, with nearly 1,000 confirmed cases. Measles — one of the world's most contagious diseases — was declared eliminated in the U.S. in 2000, thanks to widespread vaccination and school vaccine requirements.

But with the current resurgence of measles, the country is at risk of losing that elimination status.

In Spartanburg County, school vaccination rates have fallen to just under 89% — well below the 95% threshold needed to prevent community outbreaks.

And it's not just Spartanburg. There are places around the country where vaccination rates have sunk to levels low enough to allow outbreaks to flare, says Michael Osterholm, director of the University of Minnesota's Center for Infectious Disease Research and Policy.

"There are a lot more South Carolinas waiting to happen," he says.

Morrow says it's hard for her to understand why so many parents in her community are turning against vaccines.

"How did we get here?" she asks. "How did we get to a place where we don't trust our doctors to do the very best thing for our children? How did we get to a place where vaccinations have become political?"

The answer is a mix of widespread misinformation, lingering resentment over COVID mandates and politicians at the local and national level who are sowing mistrust of vaccines.

'I don't trust anything anymore'

Margarita DeLuca says she didn't give much thought to vaccines until COVID hit. She has three children and lives in neighboring Greenville County. When the COVID vaccine was first rolled out, DeLuca was scared that it had been developed too quickly to be trustworthy, and she was opposed to vaccine mandates.

"I think it should have been a choice. It shouldn't have been shoved down your throat like you have to do it," DeLuca says.

DeLuca is not alone. Resentment over vaccine mandates and other public health measures during the pandemic prompted more parents to question vaccine requirements, says Dr. Martha Edwards, president of the South Carolina chapter of the American Academy of Pediatrics.

"COVID hit and people really didn't like the mandates and that was a big boiling point," Edwards says. "And in South Carolina, that really has caused a lot of people to escalate their feelings of 'don't tell me what to do.' "

Still, when DeLuca's eldest child, Nikko, was born in the summer of 2021, she got him his routine shots for the first couple of years of his life.

But about a week after he got his 2-year-old vaccinations, Nikko spiked a fever and experienced a seizure.

"He froze up and then he started convulsing right in my arms — the scariest thing ever," DeLuca recalls.

Nikko recovered. Her pediatrician at the time told her these seizures can happen when toddlers get high fevers, and it's unlikely vaccines played a role. But DeLuca remains dubious.

"He hasn't had any seizures since. But he hasn't had any vaccines either. I'm not saying it's from that, but there is a chance," she says.

So, like a growing number of parents nationwide, DeLuca decided to forgo vaccinations for Nikko, now 4, and his twin infant siblings.

"I'm grateful that I did not vaccinate them right now," she says. "Maybe at 5 years old, their bodies are bigger and they have a higher immune system. They can handle things."

Local pediatrician Stuart Simko with Prisma Health in Greer, S.C., says he hears this from other parents. And he tries to explain why delaying vaccinations is risky.

"This is the time where your child is at a higher risk, the younger they are, for complications from many of the things that we vaccinate against," he says.

For instance, the measles, mumps and rubella, or MMR, vaccine can prevent serious complications from measles like brain swelling and pneumonia, both of which have been documented among children in this outbreak. Vaccines can also prevent immune amnesia, a phenomenon where the virus wipes out parts of the immune system, leaving kids vulnerable to new infections for several years.

And the virus can be deadly. Before the first vaccines were developed in the 1960s measles used to kill hundreds of U.S. children every year.

Simko says he tries not to judge parents but to listen to their fears.

"The parent who's choosing not to vaccinate their child, they're not trying to make a bad medical decision. They want what's best for their child. And we have to understand where they're coming from," he says.

Social media is a big problem. Many of Simko's patients are overwhelmed by information; some of it is good, he says and some is just not backed by science.

DeLuca says she no longer knows what to believe when it comes to online information.

"I don't trust anything anymore. I really don't."

Exemptions rise, vaccination rates fall 

Spartanburg County is a solidly conservative part of South Carolina. Dotted with small towns, its sprawling countryside is home to rural communities, conservative faith groups and a sizable Slavic immigrant population. All of these groups tend to have lower vaccination rates across the U.S.

In the majority of states, parents can apply for nonmedical exemptions to required vaccines for religious, personal or philosophical reasons. In Spartanburg County, the use of religious exemptions has skyrocketed since the pandemic. Today, nearly 10% of students in the county have a religious exemption — up from 3.4% at the start of the 2020-21 school year.

The result is that vaccination rates among school children are dropping. The majority of schools in Spartanburg County now have vaccination rates below the 95% threshold required to prevent measles outbreaks. In one public charter school — which has seen dozens of students quarantined for measles — the vaccination rate is a shockingly low 21%.

Republican state Sen. Josh Kimbrell, a lifelong Spartanburg resident, says he understands why parents have grown more skeptical of vaccines in the wake of what he calls the government's "overbearing" response to COVID. But he says the distrust has gotten "out of control."

The exemptions have become easy to obtain — parents can download a form and they don't have to state their religious reasoning. All they have to do is get it notarized.

"I know people who haven't set foot in a church in five years who suddenly decide it's a religious liberty exemption and don't have a religious reason," Kimbrell says. "They just don't want to do it. And that's fine but just say that."

Public health researchers say eliminating nonmedical exemptions to vaccine requirements could help raise falling vaccination rates. But in South Carolina, where opposition to government mandates is firmly entrenched, that's unlikely to happen. Last week, the state legislature shot down a bill that would have kept unvaccinated children out of schools.

And it's not just South Carolina. A recent study found the rate of nonmedical exemptions to vaccines has risen steadily in the majority of U.S. counties, and this trend has accelerated since the pandemic.

Parents changing their minds

Gene Zakharov is one of those Spartanburg parents who got religious exemptions for his children. He owns a cafe, 121 Coffee, in sight of Emmanuel Church where he's an active member of the leadership team.

Zakharov is part of the large Slavic community drawn to Spartanburg by its conservative politics and sunshine. He says many people from the former Soviet Union who settled here "don't believe in vaccines."

"People who lived there have a big distrust in the government, to say the least," he says.

He and his wife didn't vaccinate their two youngest children. They worried about potential side effects from vaccines. But they changed their minds after their 13-year-old daughter was exposed to measles at a friend's house and spent time in quarantine.

"It doesn't hit you until you actually come in contact with something like this. You're like, well, thank God my kid is all right. But you know, what if she wasn't?"

Zakharov is not the only parent questioning earlier decisions. As the measles outbreak exploded in January, pediatrician Stuart Simko says his phone started ringing.

"I've had several patients who've said no to vaccinations in the past who've said, 'Hey, what do you think of the MMR?' " he says. "What do you think about measles? It's in our backyard."

He explains how dangerous the measles virus can be. And "a lot of people are changing their minds," Simko says.

Combatting myths and fears

Tracy Hobbs changed her mind recently.

Last month Hobbs brought her 5-year-old twins, Joseph and Alice, to a mobile vaccine clinic to get their first dose of the measles, mumps and rubella vaccine. The twins should have gotten their first shots around 12 months of age, but Hobbs decided against it at the time. That's because her oldest child, now 7, was diagnosed with autism shortly after he got his first measles vaccine.

Hobbs says she saw conflicting information about whether the vaccines were to blame.

"We were afraid that if we had gotten the kids the vaccines, that it might actually cause autism," Hobbs says. "And that's really messed us up because what are you supposed to believe?"

Claims linking the vaccine to autism stem from a 1998 study that has been thoroughly debunked by a large body of research, but this misinformation still circulates widely. Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has long promoted the discredited claim and he recently directed the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to change its website to say the link can not be ruled out. Hobbs says all the conflicting information out there is confusing.

"You have one person saying, hey, this could cause the kid to get autism. And then you have somebody saying, no. I've gotten conflicting information since the day they were born," she says.

But when her twins were also diagnosed with autism, even though they weren't vaccinated, Hobbs changed her mind. With measles spreading rapidly around her, she decided to get them the shot. "The measles aren't really something to play with," Hobbs says.

'Not an outlier'

Spartanburg mom Kate Morrow says it pains her to know this kind of misinformation about vaccines and autism still circulates. One of her twins has autism. Both are fully vaccinated.

She wants to encourage parents to trust the science and to speak openly with their pediatrician about their fears.

She feels so strongly about this that she's helping a pro-vaccine advocacy group called South Carolina Families for Vaccines get off the ground. "I'm rooting for the mom in the middle that's feeling lost and scared and doesn't really know what to do," Morrow says.

There's some evidence that outreach efforts are working. State epidemiologist Linda Bell says vaccination rates in Spartanburg County were up by 133% in February compared to the previous year. And new measles cases have slowed significantly.

But the danger hasn't disappeared altogether, says Scott Thorpe, executive director of the Southern Alliance for Public Health Leadership.

"I think what keeps me up at night more than anything else is that Spartanburg is not an outlier," he says. He notes that just across the border in western North Carolina, there are lots of counties with lower vaccination rates. "And we've already started to see some cases there."

Across the U.S., there have been 12 new measles outbreaks so far this year, and more than 1,280 confirmed cases, according to the CDC.

"It's just kind of percolating in all these places," Thorpe says. "And eventually it's going to catch on and turn into a big outbreak, just like Spartanburg. And it's just going to keep on happening as vaccination rates get lower."

Several Republican lawmakers are ramping up anti-Muslim comments and facing little to no response from their leadership.

"Muslims don't belong in American society," Rep. Andy Ogles posted on Monday. "Pluralism is a lie."

The Tennessee Republican, whose seat is in a safe red district, has previously expressed support for banning immigration from Muslim-majority countries and said in a speech last year that "America is and must always be a Christian nation."

The United States was not established as a Christian nation.

"He didn't start this this week," said Sabina Mohyuddin, executive director of the American Muslim Advisory Council in Tennessee. "This has been building up."

Mohyuddin estimates Ogles has tens of thousands of Muslim constituents in his district.

"We know this kind of rhetoric leads to more bullying in school, discrimination in the workplace, hate crimes and vandalism against mosques," Mohyuddin said. "But it is an election year and these politicians believe if they spew this hateful rhetoric, they are going to get more votes."

House Speaker Mike Johnson, R-La., was asked about Ogles' rhetoric during a press conference at the House GOP's annual retreat this week.

"Look, there's a lot of energy in the country and a lot of popular sentiment that the demand to impose Sharia law in America is a serious problem — that's what animates this," Johnson said Tuesday, adding, "It is not about people as Muslims."

Johnson's comments echo a growing chorus among Republican lawmakers, who've been increasingly vocal about denouncing Sharia law and raising questions about Muslims immigrating to the U.S. and those already in the country. There are now 50 Republicans in the "Sharia-Free America" caucus.

Republicans have also spent more than $10 million on political TV ads that mention "Sharia" or "Islam" in a negative way, most of it in Texas ahead of its primaries, according to the ad-tracking firm AdImpact. That's about 10 times what had been spent in each of the last four election cycles.

Sharia law — a religious framework — does not have standing over the U.S. Constitution.

"Because people don't really know or have any idea what Sharia law is, it's the boogeyman. You just throw the word out there and people get scared," Mohyuddin said. "This is how we practice our religion. And last I heard, the Constitution still protects the freedom of religion."

A handful of Congressional Republicans have denounced Ogles' comments.

"I have many Muslim constituents, neighbors and friends who have contributed greatly to our community and country. Freedom of religion is a pillar of our nation and broad brush statements like this are offensive and completely inappropriate," Rep. Nicole Malliotakis, R-N.Y., said in a statement to NPR.

But the majority of House Republicans have stayed silent, with some choosing to double down on the rhetoric.

"No more Muslims immigrating to America," posted Rep. Brandon Gill, R-Texas on Thursday.

Rep. Randy Fine, R-Fla., who recently faced criticism for saying he'd choose dogs over Muslims, wrote: "We need more Islamophobia, not less. Fear of Islam is rational."

Sen. Tommy Tuberville, R-Ala., posted a photo of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks side-by-side with a photo of New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani, who is Muslim. The caption read: "The enemy is inside the gates."

These statements came in the wake of several attacks in the U.S., including a shooting at a Virginia college Thursday and an attempted attack on an anti-Muslim protest in New York held outside of Mayor Mamdani's home. Authorities say the suspects in the attacks were either inspired by ISIS or had supported the group in the past.

A far cry from previous political eras 

Johnson's office did not respond to a request for comment about the additional anti-Muslim posts from his members.

The lack of response from GOP leadership stands in sharp contrast to the swift and decisive condemnation from Republican House leaders in 2019 in the wake of an interview by Rep. Steve King in which the Iowa Republican questioned why the terms "white supremacist" and "white nationalist" were considered offensive.

Liz Cheney — then the No. 3 House Republican — reacted by saying King "should find another line of work."

"That language has no place in America," added then-House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy.

House leadership stripped King of his committee assignments.

Gregg Nunziata, executive director of Society for the Rule of Law, said the shift in response to King seven years ago and to lawmakers this week highlights two different political eras.

"There's this new energy on the right that kind of delights in provoking and offending and refuses to apologize," said Nunziata, who previously served as policy counsel to the Senate Republican Policy Committee and as policy advisor to then-Sen. Marco Rubio.

He draws a contrast between the leadership of former President George W. Bush, who in the aftermath of the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks visited an Islamic Center and declared, "Islam is peace."

"Those who feel like they can intimidate our fellow citizens to take out their anger don't represent the best of America," Bush said. "They represent the worst of humankind, and they should be ashamed of that kind of behavior."

Nunziata rejected Ogles' assertion that "plurality is a lie."

"I think the failure to condemn this is morally cowardly, but it's also politically shortsighted," he said. "The MAGA movement and the coalition that elected Donald Trump itself was pluralistic. Republicans had a good election year in part because they significantly expanded their support in minority communities and communities that have traditionally not been open to Republicans."

Censure effort underway from Democrats 

Democrats have blasted the tweets and the response from GOP leaders.

"Islamophobia is a cancer that must be eradicated from both the Congress and the Country. The shocking silence from Republican leadership is deafening," said House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries, D-N.Y.

"We already know that Randy Fine and Tommy Tuberville are vile bigots," wrote Katherine Clarke, House Democratic whip. "But what's even worse is the silence from GOP leadership."

Rep. Shri Thanedar, D-Mich., has introduced a resolution to censure Ogles and remove him from the Homeland Security Committee. Thanedar has not yet said if he will force a vote on the measure and his office did not respond to a request for comment.

Rep. Yassamin Ansari, D-Ariz., the first Iranian American Democrat elected to Congress, posted on X that Fine's comments "should have already resulted in censure."

"I've asked before and I'm asking again: @SpeakerJohnson, will you reprimand Rep. Fine? Strip him of his committee assignments? Anything? Or does the Republican caucus condone racism?" she wrote.