Why are Black men so rare in America’s classrooms? Because schools have long been places that taught them they didn’t belong—and now they can’t afford to stay.
Black men occupy an alarmingly small fraction of America’s teaching workforce. In the 2020-2021 academic year, only 1.3 percent of public school teachers identified as Black men, despite Black men making up 6.1 percent of the U.S. population (U.S. Department of Education, 2021). This glaring underrepresentation has implications that stretch far beyond statistics. It reflects systemic barriers, economic constraints, and cultural challenges that intertwine to create a reality in which Black men are both absent from and alienated by the teaching profession.
Understanding why so few Black men teach requires a rigorous exploration of historical, economic, and structural dynamics, each layered with cultural and political significance.
Historically, the teaching profession served as a cornerstone of Black leadership, particularly during the Reconstruction era and into the early 20th century. Black educators were critical agents of social transformation, instructing newly freed people and advocating for educational equality (Fultz, 1995). However, this legacy experienced a dramatic shift following the Supreme Court’s Brown v. Board of Education decision in 1954. While desegregation marked a legal victory, it also led to the widespread dismissal of Black educators, who were deemed unnecessary or unqualified to teach in integrated schools (Walker, 2001). This erosion of Black teachers’ ranks not only devastated Black communities but also disrupted a pipeline of Black educators, a deficit that persists today. The profession, once a beacon of stability and social mobility for Black men, became a site of exclusion.
For contemporary Black men, entering the teaching profession is fraught with economic and cultural barriers. Teaching, as a career, is often seen as financially untenable. With median salaries lagging behind those of other professions, particularly in STEM and business fields, Black men who overcome systemic obstacles to attain higher education are under immense pressure to pursue more lucrative careers (NCES, 2022). Black men account for only 34.3 percent of bachelor’s degree holders among those aged 25 and older, which already limits the potential pool of candidates (U.S. Census Bureau, 2023). For those who do graduate, familial and community expectations frequently reinforce the idea that success equates to economic advancement, pushing them toward professions with higher salaries and social prestige. Teaching, both undervalued and underpaid, is thus perceived as a luxury many cannot afford.
This economic pressure intersects with the deeply complicated relationships many Black men have with schools as institutions. Schools are often sites of alienation, hyper-surveillance, and disciplinary scrutiny for Black boys, who are suspended and expelled at disproportionately higher rates than their peers (Losen & Martinez, 2020). They are more likely to be placed in special education programs, where labels of deficiency stigmatize their intellectual abilities and isolate them socially (U.S. Department of Education, 2018). These experiences shape their perceptions of education as hostile and emasculating, reinforcing feelings of invisibility and inferiority. It is within these contexts that Black men grow to see schools not as sites of opportunity but as places of punishment. Entering teaching would mean returning to a space that, for many, has already rejected them.
Structural barriers further complicate entry into the profession. Teacher preparation programs require significant financial investments, including tuition costs, unpaid student teaching internships, and certification exams. These demands are prohibitive for Black men, who often face economic instability and family responsibilities (Villegas & Irvine, 2010). The teacher licensure process itself is riddled with requirements that fail to account for the lived realities of prospective Black male teachers, making pathways to certification arduous and exclusionary.
Compounding these barriers is the impact of the criminal legal system. Black men are incarcerated at disproportionately high rates, with one in three expected to face imprisonment in their lifetime (Carson, 2020; see figure ). Criminal records effectively disqualify many from pursuing teaching careers, shrinking the pool of potential Black male educators even further.
The absence of Black men in classrooms reverberates beyond numbers; it reflects a cultural and pedagogical loss. Studies show that Black students benefit academically and socially from having Black teachers who serve as role models and provide culturally responsive teaching (Gershenson et al., 2018). Black teachers are more likely to set high expectations, advocate for their students, and challenge deficit-based narratives about their abilities (Irvine, 2003). Without Black male teachers, many students are deprived of these affirming relationships, reinforcing cycles of disengagement and marginalization.
Addressing this crisis requires comprehensive strategies to dismantle barriers and cultivate supportive pathways into teaching for Black men. Financial incentives, including scholarships and loan forgiveness programs, could mitigate economic disincentives and attract more Black men to the field. Programs that target recruitment and mentorship, such as the Call Me MISTER initiative, demonstrate that intentional efforts can significantly increase Black male representation in education (Lewis, 2016). Additionally, structural reforms in teacher preparation programs should emphasize alternative pathways, recognizing prior work experience, community leadership, and other expertise as valid qualifications. Policies must also address the criminal legal system’s impact, providing pathways for individuals with non-violent records to pursue teaching credentials.
We now know that Black men are underrepresented in the teaching profession due to a complex set of factors, including societal perceptions of masculinity, low teacher salaries, lack of role models in the field, negative stereotypes about Black men, a perception of teaching as a “feminine” career, a lack of support systems within schools, etc. Each of these factors can lead to feelings of isolation and discouragement when navigating the challenges of the job. Thus, solving this issue demands more than technical fixes; it requires reimagining education as a space of liberation rather than oppression. Schools must transform into sites of healing and empowerment for Black boys, dismantling systems of surveillance and punishment in favor of culturally responsive-sustaining practices. Only then can teaching be reclaimed as a viable and respected profession for Black men. Their absence from classrooms today is not accidental but the result of historical and structural inequities that persist. Correcting this imbalance is not only a matter of representation but of justice—ensuring that all students have access to the full breadth of talent and insight that Black men bring to education.
References
Carson, E. A. (2020). Prisoners in 2019. Bureau of Justice Statistics.
Fultz, M. (1995). African American teachers in the South, 1890-1940: Growth, feminization, and salary discrimination. Teachers College Record, 96(3), 544-568.
Gershenson, S., Hart, C. M., Hyman, J., Lindsay, C., & Papageorge, N. W. (2018). The long-run impacts of same-race teachers. National Bureau of Economic Research.
Irvine, J. J. (2003). Educating teachers for diversity: Seeing with a cultural eye. Teachers College Press.
Lewis, C. W. (2016). Call Me MISTER: A Model Program for the Recruitment and Retention of African American Male Teachers. SAGE Open, 6(2), 1-8.
Losen, D. J., & Martinez, P. (2020). Lost opportunities: How disparate school discipline continues to drive differences in the opportunity to learn. The Civil Rights Project.
National Center for Education Statistics (NCES). (2022). Condition of education: Characteristics of postsecondary students. U.S. Department of Education.
U.S. Census Bureau. (2023). Educational attainment in the United States.
U.S. Department of Education. (2018). 2015-16 Civil Rights Data Collection: School climate and safety.
U.S. Department of Education. (2021). The state of racial diversity in the educator workforce.
Villegas, A. M., & Irvine, J. J. (2010). Diversifying the teaching force: An examination of major arguments. The Urban Review, 42(3), 175-192.
Walker, V. S. (2001). Their highest potential: An African American school community in the segregated South. University of North Carolina Press.
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Suggested citation: Kirkland, D.E. (2024). Why Black men don't teach. forwardED Perspectives, https://www.forward-ed.com/post/why-black-men-don-t-teach.
David E. Kirkland, PhD, is the founder and CEO of forwardED. He is a nationally renowned scholar of education equity and the author of Pedagogy of the Black Child. He can be reached at david@forward-ed.com.
This article resonates deeply. BOND (Building Our Network of Diversity) is doing great work here in Maryland and building coalitions across the country and that gives me hope. At the same time, I supported a phenomenal Black man as a first year teacher and in his second year he had to make the choice to give up the job he loved because he could not afford to live in our county and support his loved ones on a teacher salary. This was truly a tragedy because the work he did to change conditions for students (particularly Black boys) in his classroom was a beautiful thing to observe. As always, systems work in many ways to maintain the status quo.
I can only speak for NYC, the Men Teach initiative recruits candidates in CUNY community colleges and 4 year colleges, each site has a full time coordinator, most of the student qualify for TAP and other programs Counselors are each site, the funding is provided in the mayors budget, and, the retention rate is higher than the citywide rate. To the best of my knowledge other cities have not replicated