HIALEAH, Fla. 鈥� Marvin Dunn, a Florida historian and activist, became so angry this fall after a public college quietly handed over a prime downtown property for President Donald Trump鈥檚 future library that he sued. A judge sided with him, ruling in October that the trustees of Miami Dade College had failed to provide reasonable public notice before their vote.
The college appealed, saying it had done nothing wrong. But faced with the prospect of a protracted and expensive trial, the trustees reconsidered. They met again Tuesday and redid their vote, this time after hearing for more than three hours from more than 70 people, most of them in opposition.
The outcome was the same: The seven trustees voted unanimously to convey the 2.63-acre property to the state, which then gave it to the nonprofit foundation raising money for Trump鈥檚 presidential library. The foundation is controlled by the Trump family and has indicated that it expects to raise $50 million this year.
But Dunn, a former professor who looks younger than his 85 years and who has long sought to preserve Florida history, vowed to keep fighting the library in court.
鈥淲e鈥檙e just getting started,鈥� he told the trustees at the meeting, which was held at Miami Dade College鈥檚 campus in Hialeah, outside Miami. 鈥淲e don鈥檛 want this land given away.鈥�
The trustees defended their initial vote, saying that Tuesday鈥檚 hearing was unnecessary but that they were happy to hear from the public. One trustee, Jose Felix Diaz, noted that the board was voting on the land transfer to the state and not directly negotiating anything with the Trump foundation.
The college, he and other trustees said, was not in a position to say no to the state鈥檚 request.
鈥淲e are a creature of the state,鈥� he said. 鈥淲e need them, and they need us.鈥�
The transfer of the downtown property to the Trump library foundation began in September, when the college鈥檚 trustees voted to give the land to the administration of Gov. Ron DeSantis, a Republican, at the administration鈥檚 request. DeSantis and other top elected state officials who make up the Florida Cabinet then unanimously approved giving the property to the foundation.
Under the terms of the transaction, only certain 鈥渃omponents鈥� of the property, a parking lot across the street from Biscayne Bay, would be required to house a presidential library, museum or center. This would leave room for a hotel, condominium or other for-profit development. Construction would have to begin within five years.
After DeSantis and the Cabinet voted Sept. 30 to deed the property to the Trump foundation, the foundation said publicly for the first time that it had explored several options before selecting the downtown site.
Dunn argued in his lawsuit that the trustees鈥� initial vote violated the state鈥檚 Sunshine Law, which requires a certain degree of transparency in government. The only public notice issued before the meeting said the board would 鈥渄iscuss potential real estate transactions,鈥� without any details. The meeting lasted less than five minutes.
After the judge, Mavel Ruiz of Florida鈥檚 11th Judicial Circuit, temporarily ruled in Dunn鈥檚 favor in October, the trustees asked for an expedited appeal. But the appeals court rejected that request. Last week, Ruiz set a trial date for August. The next day, trustees scheduled a new vote, in an apparent attempt to render the lawsuit moot.
Dunn鈥檚 lawyers said during Tuesday鈥檚 hearing that they would continue to pursue the case 鈥� on Dunn鈥檚 dime. The court required him to post a $150,000 bond for the case to move forward; Dunn said on a GoFundMe page that he had raised $26,000 toward the effort but had borrowed the rest of the money.
Dunn, an emeritus psychology professor at Florida International University, has a particular interest in preserving Black history in the state. After DeSantis signed a law in 2022 restricting teaching on race, Dunn organized Black history tours. In Newberry, Florida, near Gainesville, he reminded attendees how six Black people were lynched by a white mob in 1916. He then led them to Rosewood, a predominantly Black town that was burned to the ground by a white mob in 1923.
Last month, on the same day that Trump spoke at a forum in downtown Miami, Dunn held a demonstration in nearby Overtown, a historically Black neighborhood, where he spoke of the valuable real estate that the college was losing to the Trump library.
The public comment section of the hearing Tuesday exposed deep political divisions in Miami-Dade County, which Trump won in 2024 鈥� the first Republican presidential candidate to do so since 1988 鈥� but where his rhetoric and policies, especially related to immigration, have led to raw anger. At times, the proceedings turned raucous, and the board chair asked for a couple of speakers to be removed.
Some opponents of the land transfer criticized Trump. Others questioned why the trustees of a taxpayer-supported college would donate land appraised at more than $67 million but believed to have a much higher market value, without any compensation, profit-sharing or other guarantees.
鈥淭he college is not a wealthy institution,鈥� said Brenda Mosier, a Miami Dade College alumna. 鈥淲hy should the trustees 鈥� which, by the way, have 鈥榯rust鈥� in its name 鈥� make such a poor financial decision?鈥�
But some supporters of the move noted Trump鈥檚 local popularity, including among Hispanics, who make up a majority of Miami鈥檚 population. They said a presidential library would bring more tourism, prestige and research opportunities to Miami, a place that often feels as if it is still trying to prove itself as a big city.
鈥淭oday鈥檚 discussion is not about partisanship,鈥� said Anthony Cabrera, a first-year Miami Dade College student who supports giving the land to the Trump foundation. 鈥淚t鈥檚 about history, legacy and the continued elevation of Miami-Dade County at a local and global stage.鈥�
This article originally appeared in .
