Some lawmakers want to revive corporal punishment, believing stricter discipline will restore order to unruly classrooms. But violence against teachers didn’t disappear when paddling was common. Researchers point to a deeper crisis rooted not in leniency, but in the conditions inside schools themselves.
In American schools, violence often enters the national conversation only when it takes the form of mass shootings. But beneath those rare, shocking events lies a quieter crisis, one that rarely reaches the front page. In classrooms across the country, teachers are being shoved, threatened, and harassed by their own students.
Though often missing from national debates, the numbers are hard to ignore. During the 2020–21 academic year, more than 150,000 public school teachers, roughly 4 percent, reported being physically attacked by students. Nearly 215,000 said they were threatened with injury. Among all the teachers, women reported the highest rates of physical assault.
Even as corporal punishment against students has seen a historic 93% (14-folds) decline since 1993, forms of violence against teachers remain alarmingly consistent. The American Psychological Association (APA) has labelled it as a national crisisView notehttps://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/unpacking-school-violence/202002/violence-in-schools-is-a-national-crisis, https://www.researchgate.net/publication/234084873_Understanding_and_Preventing_Violence_Directed_Against_Teachers_Recommendations_for_a_National_Research_Practice_and_Policy_Agenda, https://education.illinois.edu/about/news-events/news/article/2013/01/08/espelage-lead-author-of-study-that-looks-at-violence-directed-against-teachers-results-published-in-apa-flagship-journal, citing a lack of policy response and insufficient systemic protections for school staff.
While student violence against teachers is a global concern, the United States stands out for its robust body of data, thanks to extensive national surveys and long-term studies on the subject. Sunstone Institute is exploring this data in an effort to better understand the prevalence of violence against teachers and its implications on well-being and job retention.
The problem is not only about the violence itself, but the environment in which it is allowed to fester. Teachers are being asked to manage not only the curriculum, but they are also now facing escalating behavioural challenges, declining student readiness, and a classroom atmosphere increasingly marked by distraction and disengagementView noteThe School Pulse Panel (SPP) reported a decline in teacher and staff morale, largely attributed to student misbehaviour—particularly a lack of focus and attention (77%), classroom disruptions (62%), and students arriving at school physically or academically unprepared (57–62%)..
According to the School Pulse Panel (SPP), a monthly survey conducted by the National Center for Education Statistics (NCES), 82% of public schools reported difficulty filling two or more teaching vacancies ahead of the 2024–25 school year. With a shortage of teachers, it can threaten students’ ability to learn by overstretching teachers’ work capacity.
School-based crimes, including physical attacks, threats, robbery, rape, and sexual assault, totalled more than 1.2 million during the 2021–22 academic year. Data collected by the Civil Rights Data Collection paints a troubling portrait of the school learning environment. Teachers caught in between professional expectation and institutional indifference are left to navigate this reality largely alone and often becoming the target themselves.
The Center for Disease Control and Prevention defines school violence broadly, encompassing bullying, physical assault, sexual violence, and weapon use, that disrupts learning and has a negative effect on the school community. While teachers are technically included in the definition, they are rarely conjured as victims.The term, ‘teacher victimisation’ is used interchangeably with violence against teachers, and is part of a relatively new research field. Victimology, the academic study of crime victims and their experiences, only emerged in the mid-20th century. Teacher victimisation, as researchers now frame it, includes a range of mistreatment, harassment, and aggression faced by educators. The perpetrators may be students, but also parents, colleagues, or administrators.
Beyond Bruises: Understanding Low-Level Violence in Schools
When violence against teachers makes the news, it’s usually of the most visible kind, such as an assault caught on video or a classroom confrontation that ends in arrest. But these high-profile moments tell only part of the story.
Obscene remarks. Verbal threats. Intimidation. Sexual harassment. These are not always loud acts, but they are persistent ones in what researchers call “low-level violence.”View notehttps://iris.unito.it/bitstream/2318/1690779/7/Manuscript%20Revision%20R1.pdf , https://www.researchgate.net/publication/315083991_Predicting_and_Reducing_Aggression_and_Violence_Toward_Teachers_Extent_of_the_Problem_and_Why_It_Matters Though these behaviours may not leave physical injuries, they leave physiological scars. Psychologists refer to this as allostatic load—the cumulative toll that chronic, unrelieved stress takes on the body over time.

Studies have shown that prolonged exposure to such behaviours can have long-term health consequences, impairing cognitive performance, sleep, and immune function. Research in fields such as occupational bullying and interpersonal violence further reinforces this connection. To fully understand the scope of the problem, it’s essential to consider not just physical incidents, but the full range of teacher-directed aggression.
In 2019, the American Psychological Association (APA) convened a Task Force on Violence Against Educators and School Personnel to examine these aggressions nationwide, including in Puerto Rico. This initiative was built upon the work of the APA’s 2008 Task Force on Classroom Violence Against Teachers, highlighting the persistent nature of the issue and the need for continued research in this area.
Led by psychologist Professor Susan McMahon of DePaul University, the research team surveyed more than 14,966 educators both before and after COVID-related school disruptions.
In the pre-pandemic period, between August 2019 and March 2020, teachers reported high rates of non-physical aggression. Obscene gestures or remarks were reported by 44.3% of teachers, while 24.9 percent said they had been verbally threatened. The most common physical incident involved objects being thrown at them, reported by 26.8% of teachers.
These findings are echoed in another longitudinal study by Professor Byangook Moon of the Department of Criminology and Criminal Justice at the University of Texas San Antonio, and his research team. They conducted a multi-wave survey of teachers in a metropolitan area in Texas between 2016 and 2019. Nearly 45% reported experiencing verbal abuse, while 29% to 35% faced non-contact aggression, such as students throwing, kicking or destroying objects in their presence. More serious forms of violence, such as physical assault (5%–8%), sexual harassment (6%–11%), and cyberbullying (6%–8%), were less common but still notable. Strikingly, only 17% of participating teachers reported no victimisation at all.
In 2022, the team expanded their research to include 18 additional states, gathering responses from 4,005 public middle and high school teachers across the 50 largest school districts. The result was consistent with earlier findings, and with a larger sample brought no surprises. For many teachers, the data simply reflected a daily reality where violence is routine and rarely addressed.
What keeps this aggression rooted so deeply in the classroom, flaring again and again across so many schools?
Part of the answer may lie not just in student behaviour, but in the broader structures that shape school life. A study led by Professor Eric Anderman of the Department of Educational Studies at Ohio State University found that schools with high academic demands were more likely to report student misbehaviour, ranging from verbal threats to property damage, and heightened tension in the classroom. But importantly, the study makes clear that academic pressure alone doesn’t cause these outcomes. What matters is how schools support learning.
Schools that adopt a mastery goal structure, focusing on deep understanding rather than competition, report fewer behavioural issues. Students feel more supported and less threatened, and the teacher-student relationship tends to be more positive. These classrooms tend to allow exam retakes, reduce public grade comparisons, and have more time to explore subject matter in depth.
By contrast, performance goal structures, where test scores, competition, and comparative success dominate—are linked to disengagement, cheating, and disruptive behaviour. This long-held belief that pushing students harder improves outcomes is increasingly challenged by research. Performance-driven environments can heighten stress and set the stage for conflict.
Studies show that aggression toward teachers often follows moments of confrontation, such as correcting behaviour, addressing underperformance, or breaking up peer disputes. When combined with exclusionary discipline, such as suspensions and expulsion, the risk increases. These practices have also been linked to higher rates of teacher-reported violence.
National data seems to reflect this pattern. In the February 2024 School Pulse Panel survey, 92% of public-school leaders voiced concern about students’ ability to meet academic standards, while 67% cited an increase in student misbehaviour. Mental health was also a leading concern, with 95% of school leaders worried about student well-being, and 92% about the mental health of their staff.
Despite growing recognition, violence remains inconsistently measured across studies. Reported rates of teacher-directed violence vary widely, shaped by a host of methodological differences: the type of perpetrator (student, parent, or colleague), the reporting source (teacher self-report vs. student account), the timeframe (past month or past year), and the geographical level of analysis (state or national). These inconsistencies make comparisons difficult.
Underreporting may also obscure the true extent of the problem. Teachers may avoid filing reports out of fear of being seen as weak, or because past reports yielded no institutional response. In some cases, administrators may downplay incidents to protect a school’s public image.
In recent years, researchers have responded by developing better victimisation scales in hopes of producing more psychometrically sound and comparable data. But a standardised global framework is still missing. Without it, journalists and policymakers are left to navigate a patchwork of definitions and data. The issue of violence against teachers may be recognised, but not reliably quantified.
Impact of Teacher Victimisation
Based on a 2016 study led by Professor Byongook Moon, researchers have found that physical assault has been one of the most damaging forms of school violence. It has undermined teachers’ sense of safety (37%), has led to disrupted job performance (44%) and eroded trust in students (31%), and has influenced decisions to leave the profession (27%). In-person bullying has had an even greater impact on job performance (50%), while theft has most strongly affected trust in students (46%).
By 2022, the same researchers refined their approach using a more nuanced measurement scale, from “Not at all” to “Severely,” and added emotional distress as a dimension of harm. The results were both familiar and sobering. Across nearly every form of violence, teachers reported shaken trust, diminished safety, and growing thoughts of leaving the profession.
The psychological toll of physical assault was especially severe. Sixty-six percent of affected teachers reported moderate to severe emotional distress, with 29% of them describing their distress as severe. In-person bullying (49%) and cyberbullying (47%) followed closely. Even sexual harassment, frequently downplayed in school contexts, left 42% of teachers emotionally affected beyond a mild level.
Trust in students was deeply affected by all types of incidents. Nearly 44% of teachers who experienced theft or vandalism and 41% of those subjected to cyberbullying reported that they often or almost always could not trust students afterwards. Approximately 81% of teachers subjected to non-contact aggression said such experiences diminished their trust in students either sometimes or often/always.
Perceptions of school safety also shifted. Teachers who had been physically assaulted were among the most likely to feel unsafe frequently, with 46% expressing such concerns. By contrast, only 22–27% of teachers exposed to non-contact aggression, cyberbullying, in-person bullying, or sexual harassment reported feeling unsafe often or always.
Perhaps most concerning were findings around professional attrition. Teachers who experienced physical assault (46%) or cyberbullying (40%) were among the most likely to consider quitting. Among those exposed to verbal abuse, 36% reported frequent thoughts of leaving, while 34% of teachers who endured non-contact aggression expressed similar intentions.
Together, these findings offer a clearer picture of the toll violence takes on educators, not just on their mental health, but on their willingness to stay in the profession and maintain trust with students. The cumulative effects reiterate what researchers describe as allostatic load—the chronic wear and tear of unrelieved stress.
While awareness of teacher victimisation is slowly growing, the issue remains relatively under-researched compared to the extensive literature on student bullying and child abuse. Experts are calling for more longitudinal research into how these experiences of violence evolve over time and their impact for both educators and students.
Understanding the Code of the School
Violence against teachers is not always impulsive—it can be strategic. Dr. Charles Bell, associate professor of criminal justice sciences at Illinois State University explains, “Some students threatened and attacked teachers to gain toughness, popularity, and respect from their peers.” He calls this phenomenon the code of the school. “Students who were viewed as tough were less likely to be bullied or challenged to fight.”

In interviews for his book Suspended, Bell found that students, particularly those navigating poverty or housing instability, sometimes responded to perceived disrespect from teachers as an affront to their masculinity. Others act out due to what psychologists call “triggered displaced aggression,” where they redirect frustration from home or community onto school authority figures.
The failure of existing school safety measures compounds the issue. “School bathrooms are a notoriously dangerous space,” Bell notes. “The presence of street gangs in the neighbourhood and their active recruitment of students added additional complications for teachers. The failure of school safety measures fuels some students’ fears of being harmed and ignites their desire to earn a violent reputation to protect themselves.”
In such environments, teachers become symbols of control—competitors in a struggle for respect. “Teachers were competing with students for control over their classes,” he adds.
Corporal Punishment Against Students
To understand the full landscape of violence in American schools, it is not enough to look at what happens to teachers or between students. Power can move in all directions, including downward—from adults to children. Corporal punishment and educator misconduct form part of this less visible, but deeply consequential, spectrum of harm.
Although its use has declined significantly in the U.S., corporal punishment is still legal in 23 states as of 2024, according to End Corporal Punishment and a March 2023 letter from Secretary Cardona. In some of these states, corporal punishment is prohibited only for students with disabilities, while others have no explicit ban in place.
New Jersey was the first state to outlaw corporal punishment in 1867, followed by Massachusetts in 1971. Today, only five states—New Jersey, Iowa, Maryland, New York, and Illinois—prohibit its use in both public and private schools.
Although in Wyoming corporal punishment is still legal, its practice has largely fallen out of use. Only three school districts report having policies that allow it, and no incidents have been reported to the Office for Civil Rights since 2013. Many educators have called for its formal removal.
Testifying before the Senate Education Committee in 2023, Jeff Jones, principal of Tongue River Middle School, highlighted the shift in practice, “That’s not by accident—we know better,” noting that there have been zero reported incidents in over a decade. “There is no longer a place for Wyoming schools to support corporal punishment.” While a bill to ban the practice advanced through the Senate, it was ultimately halted in the House over concerns it might interfere with a teacher’s ability to defend themselves.
The Civil Rights Data Collection (CRDC) defines corporal punishment as paddling, spanking, or other forms of physical discipline. It has tracked its use in schools since 2000. While its overall frequency has declined 14-fold over the past two decades, stark disparities persist.Between 2013 and 2021, federal data shows stark disparities in who is subjected to this form of punishment. Black and American Indian/Alaska Native students, along with students with disabilities, are punished at disproportionately high rates. Boys are four times more likely than girls to be struck. The practice is most deeply entrenched in Mississippi, Texas, Arkansas, and Alabama —southern states with long-standing histories of racialised violence.
Though still practiced in parts of the United States, corporal punishment has been widely discredited by nearly every major medical and psychological association. The American Academy of Pediatrics has called it both ineffective and unethical, warning that it causes harm rather than correcting behaviour. The American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry and U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention have urged its use to be abolished.
Internationally, the U.S. is said to remain as the only United Nations member that has not ratified the Convention on the Rights of the Child, which seeks to protect children from all forms of physical or psychological violence. Yet the U.S. is far from alone in permitting corporal punishment in schools. According to End Corporal Punishment, 64 countries have yet to ban the practice—including the Australian states of Queensland and Western Australia.
Globally, the World Health Organization estimates that nearly half of all children ages 6 to 17—around 732 million—live in countries where corporal punishment in schools remains legal or is not fully prohibited.The lines between discipline and abuse can blur in other troubling ways. In 2021, the CRDC began tracking whether incidents of rape or sexual assault in U.S. public schools were committed by students or by staff. Out of 19,271 reported cases, 313—about 2%—involved school staff. It is also reported that 1,319 allegations of rape or sexual assault involved staff, including cases where the accused resigned, retired, was reassigned, or remain under investigation.
As with violence against teachers, sexual misconduct by educators and its negative impact on students exist in the margins of the data—understudied and too often ignored. Together with the continued use of corporal punishment, these issues reveal underlying vulnerabilities in the education system.
If resilience is the ability of schools to function through disruption—be it a pandemic or armed conflict—then recurring violence within those schools calls that resilience into question. The routine harm experienced by both teachers and students erodes their sense of safety, and subsequently, makes it harder for schools to deliver education effectively.
The consequences ripple far beyond institutional function. Imac Zambrana, a cognitive developmentalist and education fellow at the Sunstone Institute, notes, “There is an extensive body of research that has looked into how adverse childhood environments and toxic stress impact everything from prolonged activation of stress response systems, brain development, and the abilities and opportunities to learn.”
Research has shown that elevated cortisol levels over time can impair memory, attention, and information processing—key functions required for learning.

Zambrana who is also an associate professor in cognitive psychology at Oslo New University College (previous affiliation with the University of Oslo), cites research from Harvard’s Center on the Developing Child, which has shown that extended exposure to toxic stress, especially early in life, can disrupt children’s brain development, “A nervous system that is constantly activated by adverse and violent surroundings is focused on much more serious coping mechanisms than learning.”
While many of the classic or well-known studies examine home or early childcare environments, such as childcare centres and orphanages, Zambrana argues that the findings can be applied to other contexts as well, and that schools might play a vital role in shielding children from toxic stress. “Altogether, this underscores the crucial role that educators and policymakers play in protecting children’s learning environments from toxic stress so that they can focus on learning.”
What we know is this: The harms of corporal punishment are well documented, yet it remains legal in nearly half of U.S. states. When it comes to violence against teachers, the gap is not just in policy—but in knowledge. The issue is persistent, yet still understudied and inconsistently tracked.
Legislation – A Preventive Measure?
Across the U.S., states are proposing legislation to address the alarming prevalence of violence against teachers. In Texas, House Bill 6 proposes to give more teachers and their school district more authority to respond to disruptive students. The proposal comes amid mounting concerns over teacher retention, with educators citing inadequate disciplinary support and poor working conditions as key factors.
In a more controversial move, West Virginia lawmakers have introduced a bill to reinstate corporal punishment in public schools—decades after it was banned in 1994. House Bill 2545, introduced in February 2025, would permit teachers to act “in the place of the parents” and allow principals to administer “moderate corporal punishment” under state and county guidelines. Meanwhile, Republican legislators in Wisconsin and other states are pushing to arm teachers in response to school shootings, arguing it could serve as a deterrent.
“Suspensions and corporal punishment will only make the problem worse,” warns Dr. Charles Bell, a leading researcher on school discipline and violence, and author of Suspended. His research shows that punishment, in fact, reinforces status due to the code of the school. Policy responses often ignore the deeper context in which these dynamics unfold. Student aggression towards teachers is a form of self-preservation as much as rebellion.
Advocates of restorative justice argue that the long-term solution lies better in mental health resources, conflict resolution programs, and community engagement.
On restorative justice, Bell says it “can be helpful in minor incidents because some teachers may not understand how their actions and statements can provoke reactions from students.” Furthermore, “Teasing students about their hair, clothing, or personal situations is not appropriate, but it happens—and I have witnessed it.”
“Schools should consider issuing a mandatory expulsion to students who do not have a disability and deliberately attack teachers,” he says. For students with disabilities, he stresses the need for proper legal review through manifestation determination hearings.
Bell advocates for the need of comprehensive disciplinary policies that include all voices, ensure operable safety measures, and recognise both student rights and teacher protections. “No teacher should experience a violent altercation at school,” he says.