TL;DR

• A University of Oklahoma teaching assistant was removed from teaching duties after giving a student a zero on an essay about gender stereotypes.
• The student, Samantha Fulnecky, claimed religious discrimination and won her grade appeal.
• Protests erupted on campus, with political figures weighing in.
• The instructor, transgender graduate student Mel Curth, said the essay ignored assignment requirements and used ideology over evidence.
• The case highlights tensions around academic freedom, anti-LGBTQ rhetoric, and political pressure on universities.

Oklahoma Instructor Benched After Firestorm Over Zero on Gender Essay

The University of Oklahoma has found itself in the eye of a cultural hurricane after sidelining a graduate teaching assistant who gave a student a zero on a gender stereotypes essay—an assignment that somehow spiraled into protests, political grandstanding, and national headlines. The university announced that the instructor, widely understood to be Mel Curth, will “no longer have instructional duties” after administrators ruled that the grading of the paper was “arbitrary.” And just like that, a single essay became the latest battleground in America’s never-ending gender culture war.

Curth, a transgender graduate instructor, had given premed junior Samantha Fulnecky a failing grade after her 650-word response dismissed gender scholarship entirely and claimed society was pushing “the lie that there are multiple genders” — even calling it “demonic.” According to screenshots shared by Turning Point USA’s local chapter, Curth criticized the essay for contradicting itself, relying on personal ideology instead of scientific evidence, and failing to actually answer the assignment prompt. In any other year, this might have been a routine academic dispute. In 2025 America, it became political rocket fuel.

Campus Erupts as Politicians Pounce

The grading decision blew up fast. Protests and counterprotests surged across campus, with students packing the administration building chanting in support of Curth and LGBTQ inclusion. Meanwhile, conservative activists, lawmakers, and social media personalities descended on the controversy like it was their holiday bonus. Oklahoma Gov. Kevin Stitt even weighed in, publicly nudging the university’s governing board to take action—because nothing says “small government” like micromanaging a psychology class assignment.

Fulnecky appealed the grade, claiming religious discrimination. The university sided with her, tossing the assignment from her course total and erasing any academic harm. The school said it also investigated her discrimination claim but declined to share the findings. Curth, already placed on leave, now sits at the center of a firestorm that raises questions about whether academic standards can survive the political weaponization of higher education.

Academic Freedom Meets Anti-LGBTQ Rhetoric

Let’s be clear: classrooms exist to assess ideas, evidence, and critical thinking—not to rubber-stamp personal beliefs. Curth’s stated reason for the zero was that the essay ignored the scholarly article and replaced analysis with ideology. That should’ve sparked a quiet grade appeal, not a national spectacle. But because the instructor is trans, the dispute became low-hanging fruit for activists eager to paint LGBTQ educators as ideological threats.

The danger here is bigger than one grade. When instructors fear punishment for enforcing academic standards, education suffers. When LGBTQ educators become political targets simply for doing their jobs, classrooms become colder, narrower places. The university insists it is “committed to teaching students how to think, not what to think”—but removing an instructor under political pressure risks sending the opposite message.

Why LGBTQ Communities Are Watching Closely

For LGBTQ students and faculty, this case hits hard. It signals that trans educators, in particular, can be dragged into the public arena simply for upholding course expectations. It also shows how anti-LGBTQ rhetoric—like dismissing gender diversity as “demonic”—can be treated as protected opinion while queer instructors face scrutiny for responding professionally.

Higher education should be a refuge for evidence-based inquiry, not a battlefield where LGBTQ people become collateral damage. When universities fail to defend their marginalized educators, it chills inclusivity and emboldens those who want queer people pushed out of public life. The protests in support of Curth weren’t just about a grade—they were about preserving a campus where LGBTQ instructors can teach without fear and LGBTQ students can learn without hostility.

The university may hope the controversy melts away over winter break, but the rest of the country is already taking notes. What happens in Oklahoma doesn’t stay in Oklahoma—especially when the stakes are academic freedom, LGBTQ dignity, and who gets to define truth in America’s classrooms.