According to the National Center for Education Statistics, there are around 3.1 million public school teachers total in the United States. An estimated 2 percent (60,000) of those teachers are black males. Meanwhile, black students make up 16 percent of public school students, numbering about 7.7 million. It's clear there's a gap here that needs to be addressed (Kena et al., 2016; U.S. Department of Education, 2016).
It is important to acknowledge that some researchers and commentators critique rationales and calls for increasing the numbers of black males in teaching. Their concerns include, for instance, the unfair and unsolicited pressure placed on black male teachers to solve systemic and institutional challenges ingrained in school systems. Are black male teachers supposed to be role models for students and somehow miraculously solve systemic challenges in education that fall far outside their control or even interests?
So I realize a focus on increasing the black male teaching force can be viewed as problematic. We certainly need to increase the numbers of teachers of color in general. But I am intentionally—and unapologetically—focusing on black male teachers because black male students continue to be one of the most underserved populations in schools. And their experiences in schools have serious implications for what happens in their lives after school.
Maximizing Learning Opportunities
In my own research (Milner, 2010), I found that black male teachers often develop curriculum and instructional practices that align with the interests and needs of their black male students. These teachers have the ability to create examples that bring the curriculum to life for students, and their own lived experiences can be used to help their students (especially black males) connect to and maximize learning opportunities. Especially when attempting to address a complex problem or situation, black male teachers can often help students visualize the issue in ways that others may not.
The black male teachers I have studied also tend to be intentional in how they develop and enact disciplinary-referral practices in their work. Many black male teachers have a firm yet fair approach to working with students when conflicts emerge in the classroom. Rather than pushing students out of the classroom and placing students' destiny in the hands of another (such as a building administrator who might decide to suspend or even expel black male students), black male teachers find ways to deescalate conflicts and work with students inside of the classroom as developing individuals. They practice equitable disciplinary-referral practices rather than one-size-fits-all approaches (Milner, 2016).
A third reason to increase the black male teaching force is the role modeling and mentoring that these teachers may be able to offer. Again, researchers have frequently critiqued the idea that black males should be designated as role models or that they should be expected to mentor students. I agree that these added layers of expectation are unfair and should not be expected of black male teachers solely because of their physical characteristics. However, I also believe too many black male students (and many other students, for that matter) have never had a black male teacher, and this lack of relational, interactional, pedagogical, and curricular exposure ultimately limits students' perspective and access to potentially life-changing opportunities.
Recruitment Strategies
Since black male teachers (and other teachers of color) are urgently needed and sometimes expected to work overtime or to take on extra responsibilities to disrupt structural issues and practices that grossly underserve students, I believe one way to attract them to the field would be to compensate them for this additional work. This compensation could come in the form of signing and retention bonuses, time off to recharge, and enhanced professional development opportunities (such as workshops on trauma-responsive instruction) to assist them in working with individual students and colleagues.
In addition, students in elementary, middle, and high school need to be exposed to professional insights about what it means to be a teacher. As a black male, my decision to become a teacher was informed by my relationships with my black teachers. Had I not had black teachers who saw potential in me and who explicitly recognized my assets, I would not have ever considered becoming an educator. Because there are often few black male teachers in schools, black male students need to be given intentional opportunities to interact with such educators and be exposed to teaching as a potential profession.
Finally, there are many black males working in other disciplines and institutions who could be ideal candidates to enter the teaching profession. These individuals work in after-school programs, social work organizations, worship and recreation centers, as well as in schools as teaching assistants. If we find ways to incentivize and support these individuals to enroll in teacher education programs, we could increase the black male teaching force. This means that we have to think creatively about how best to support such career changers. If a black male is working full-time in a different profession, it may be difficult for him to go without a salary for an extended period of time to pursue teaching licensure. A short-term financial investment could yield long-term effects on the teaching profession and subsequent learning and support opportunities for students.
A Matter of Priorities
Indeed, we have the potential to transform who teaches in schools across the United States if we deliberately decide to rethink how we use resources and for whom. Clearly, we continue to come up with resources to fund prisons—creating cell after cell for occupancy by black males. If we really wanted to change education in ways that are more representative and meet the needs of underserved students, we surely could. Why don't we?
