When Speaking Up Becomes a Risk

 

I never imagined that advocating for students would put my career at risk.

As a teacher, I entered this profession because I believed in education as a tool for empowerment. I imagined schools to be a place where every child, regardless of ability, identity, or circumstance, could find belonging and possibility. But over the past few years, I've watched that vision erode, not because of individual failures, but because of systemic practices that quietly and consistently exclude the very students we claim to serve.

And when I spoke up, I was disciplined for advocating.

In many schools, exclusion does not always come in the form of a formal suspension or expulsion. It shows up more subtly. Students are sent home early, placed on reduced timetables, or not allowed to attend a field trip. Students are informally removed from class, first to the hallway, then to the office, and eventually to an alternate learning environment. These unspoken practices are rarely documented, rarely communicated transparently to families, and disproportionately impact students with disabilities.

Parents often don't know what's really happening. Behind closed doors, decisions are made about “managing behaviors” that are actually about making students disappear. When I raised concerns about the legality, the ethics, and the human cost, I was met not with support but with silence. Then, with disciplinary action.

I was placed under investigation. I was removed from the school and told to stay home. I was not allowed to share my story with anyone. It was a lonely experience that directly mirrored the exclusionary tactics I was challenging on behalf of my students. I was made to stay quiet. Districts protect themselves by twisting the idea of ​​fiduciary duty into a weapon, citing loyalty to the employer above all else. Not to truth. Not to students. Not to justice.

This isn't just my story. It's a reflection of a broader culture of fear and compliance in our education system. A system where speaking up is framed as insubordination and punished. Where teachers are expected to absorb the trauma, stay quiet, and push forward, no matter the cost to themselves or the students they serve.

Meanwhile, chronic underfunding continues. Classrooms grow more complex, while support is stretched thinner than ever. We are losing students to exclusion. We are losing teachers to burnout, moral injury, and silence.

Silence is stifling. And it is killing the very spirit of public education.

But we do not have to stay silent.

This is a call to action. To teachers—speak up. Talk about what's happening behind the classroom door. Talk about the students being pushed out, the supports that don't exist, the orders of silence you're expected to follow. Tell your stories. Because silence may protect your job in the short term, but it won't protect our profession, and it certainly won't protect our students.

We must hold our education system accountable, not just for what it teaches, but for how it treats people. Schools are not only places for academic learning, they are the foundation for teaching what it means to be human. We model how to treat one another. We teach students to think critically, to question injustice, to embrace differences, to forgive, to learn, and to grow.

Speak up.

Share your stories.

Especially when it’s hard. Especially when there is risk. Especially when we are in positions of power to create change.

Change begins with one voice and grows into collective action.