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In nearly 26 years in education, as a student, teacher, mentor, assistant principal, dean, director, and now a principal, I’ve rarely been taught by or worked alongside Black men. Even fewer have been in rural schools. This absence has shaped my experience in education and left me wondering: Why aren’t more Black men in education, especially in rural areas?
I have long had a passion for education. Even with the ups and downs, the good and the bad, I never wanted to do anything else. But I often wonder why more Black men don’t share that passion, especially when so many of our Black children need to see more Black men in the classroom. It’s a truth that’s hard to ignore.
It reminds me of what I’ve seen in most Black churches: Women far outnumber the men. The same pattern exists in education. While many Black men have moved into leadership roles as principals, superintendents, or athletic coaches, the absence of Black male teachers in the classroom is striking. And it matters. Many of our Black students, especially Black boys, respond differently to the voice and authority of a Black male teacher. Black men can provide guidance and connection in ways that many female educators simply cannot. While that may sound biased, it’s a truth that some aren’t willing to accept.
The question of why more Black men aren’t becoming teachers has stayed with me for years, but I decided to stop wondering and start asking. I gathered 15 Black male educators for a roundtable discussion to explore this issue. I was intentional about who I selected — men ranging in age from 25 to 75 with teaching experience spanning from three to 50 years. I wanted to know why they chose education and, more importantly, why they decided to stay.
The historical roots of the shortage
Researcher Gloria Ladson-Billings argues that historical inequities in teacher education — many rooted in segregation-era policies — continue to limit opportunities for Black candidates. After emancipation, teaching and preaching were among the few respectable professions available to Black men. During segregation, Black schools were staffed primarily by Black teachers, including men. However, when Brown v. Board of Education (1954) led to desegregation, many Black teachers were displaced as Black schools closed and white schools resisted hiring them. Teaching became increasingly seen as a feminized profession, and fewer Black men entered the field.
This history still shapes the present. Teaching remains one of the lowest-paying professions that requires a college degree. For Black men, who often face financial pressures to support extended families, this makes the profession less attractive. As one educator at the roundtable said, “You can’t take care of your family on a teacher’s salary.”
‘We don’t see ourselves there”
Many of the men I spoke with pointed to the lack of encouragement to enter education. From a young age, Black boys are steered toward sports, business, or entrepreneurship, rarely teaching. One man reflected, “When I was growing up, no one ever said, ‘You should be a teacher.’ But they told me I’d make a great athlete.”
Those who do become teachers often face an additional burden of being seen primarily as disciplinarians or father figures. One educator said, “You’re expected to handle the boys who act out, to be the tough one. It’s exhausting.” Another added, “It’s hard to just be seen as a teacher. You’re always ‘the coach’ or ‘the mentor,’ but rarely just the math teacher.”
Despite these challenges, many of the men stayed in education because of the impact they knew they could have on Black students. Research shows that Black students perform better academically and socially when taught by Black teachers. One man said, “I became a teacher because I never had a Black teacher growing up. I wanted my students to see someone who looked like them.”
Personal mentorship and lived experiences often shape the path into teaching for Black men. Research supports this, like that of Travis Bristol, associate professor at the University of California, Berkeley’s Department of African American Studies.
One teacher shared, “My high school English teacher was a Black man. He pulled me aside one day and said, ‘We need more of us in education.’ That stuck with me.”
The reality of staying in education
The men at the roundtable also discussed why so many Black men leave the profession. The truth is, teaching is no longer seen as a respected profession. The wages are low, the demands are high, and the support is often lacking. For some of the men on the panel, they felt strongly that certain entities don’t want Black men in education because it would disrupt the status quo. One educator put it bluntly: “If more Black men are in classrooms, we will open our kids’ eyes to harsh realities. That’s what some people fear.”
If Black students regularly see Black men in professional roles, it could shift the power dynamics of future generations. That’s a reality that some may not be ready for.
The power of representation and mentorship
One story that stood out came from a panelist who shared how he became a superintendent. When he was a teacher, a well-known Black superintendent told him and a few other Black male teachers that they should consider becoming superintendents. To make the point, the superintendent showed them his contract, what he was paid, the changes he had been able to make, and the influence he held.
But it wasn’t just about the money. The superintendent shared that he wore a shirt and tie every day, not because he wanted to, but because he knew that in a district where the majority of the leadership was white, he had to prove that he belonged there.
That panelist went on to become a superintendent himself, following the example and footsteps of that leader. That’s the power of representation. When young Black men see Black men in positions of authority, it creates a pathway for them to follow.
Building their own legacy
Many of the men on the panel didn’t just stop at teaching; they built something greater. Several of them have created their own organizations focused on uplifting the Black experience and moving the culture forward. They’ve launched:
- Leadership summits.
- Mentorship programs.
- Workshops for aspiring Black teachers.
- Documentaries that explore the Black educational experience.
- Children’s books focused on Black identity and leadership.
- Clubs and organizations that promote leadership and empowerment among young Black boys.
One panelist shared that he started a leadership club at his school specifically for young Black boys. “We teach them how to lead — not just in school, but in life,” he said. “We want them to see that they have a place at the table.”
Moving from conversation to action
At the conclusion of our discussion, I asked the group, “What can we do? How can we move forward to encourage more Black male representation in the classroom or in education?”
Their responses pointed toward clear solutions:
- Recruitment at HBCUs: We need to be intentional about recruiting Black male teachers at Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs).
- Workshops and career pathways: Host workshops that promote education as a career path for Black men. Explain the process: teacher prep courses, licensure exams, and certification, because many don’t understand the steps required to become a teacher.
- Financial incentives: Partner with schools and districts to offer student loan forgiveness or tuition assistance for Black male educators who agree to work in rural districts for three to five years.
- Retention and support: Establish mentoring programs and professional networks specifically for Black male educators.
- Legislative action: We need the support of policymakers to provide funding in these areas and make teaching a more financially stable and respected profession.
One teacher summarized it this way: “We need more of us because our kids need to see it. If they don’t see it, they won’t believe it’s possible.”
We stand on the shoulders of those who came before us in the fight for equitable education. Increasing the presence of Black male teachers in the classroom isn’t just about filling a gap, it’s about reclaiming a legacy and creating a path for the next generation.
I am excited about the possibilities of this work. The partnerships, the outreach, and the intentional effort to change the narrative for Black male educators could transform the future for our students. If we’re serious about closing the opportunity gap for Black students, we need to start with the faces they see at the front of the classroom.
