Has Violence Against Teachers Become Accepted by Society?

When a student assaulted me, I braced myself for shock from the people I shared my story with. What I didn’t expect was the calm resignation in their responses, as if what happened was unfortunate but not surprising. Navigating the physical and emotional aftermath was hard, but realizing how normalized teacher violence has become was harder still. It left me wondering why society seems so willing to accept harm as part of the job.

The assault happened in seconds, but its impact has lasted years. A frustrated high-school emotional support student, tall and physically strong, suddenly tackled me through the classroom door during an escalation. I was 22 years old, a new mother with a six-month-old baby at home, and overnight my life shifted into a cycle of surgeries, medical appointments, and long recovery. The experience reshaped who I was; not just as a teacher, but as a wife and a mother trying to heal while caring for my child.

My experience made something painfully clear: violence against educators has become so normalized that society now treats it as an expected part of teaching.

From doctors’ offices to meetings with lawyers to casual conversations in public, I noticed a pattern in how people reacted. They were sympathetic, genuinely sorry that it had happened, but there was also this unmistakable undercurrent of resignation. It was as if the assault was unfortunate, yes, but not unexpected. That quiet lack of surprise said more than their words ever did. It hinted at a broader belief that violence against teachers isn’t shocking anymore, that it’s simply woven into the fabric of the profession. It left me wondering why the public was so comfortable with the idea that an educator could be physically assaulted by the students they teach?

But what stayed with me even more than the physical harm was the reaction that followed.

As I moved through doctor’s appointments, meetings with lawyers, and everyday conversations, I noticed a pattern. People were sympathetic, even kind, but beneath their words was a quiet resignation, a sense that what happened to me was unfortunate but not unexpected. It fit neatly into a narrative many already believe: that schools are chaotic, that students are increasingly volatile, and that teachers are expected to absorb whatever comes their way. That normalization wasn’t limited to public perception; it showed up in the system itself. The parents of the student who assaulted me sued the district, claiming it had failed to prevent the incident. Suddenly, I found myself on phone calls with administrators and attorneys questioning whether I had done enough to stop the assault. Instead of feeling protected, I felt scrutinized and abandoned, as if the violence were simply part of the job and any failure to prevent it rested on my shoulders.

What struck me most was how seamlessly my experience fit into a larger cultural pattern. Stories of teachers being hit, threatened, or verbally abused have become so common that they no longer spark outrage. Instead of being treated as a crisis, they’re treated as background noise, something unfortunate but routine. When violence becomes familiar, it stops feeling urgent. And when it stops feeling urgent, it becomes easier for society to minimize it, dismiss it, or quietly expect educators to endure it.

The American Psychological Association completed three National surveys in which the findings reveal high rates of verbal/threatening (e.g., verbal attacks, verbal threats, sexual harassment, intimidation, public humiliation, bullying) and physical violence (e.g., objects thrown, objects used as weapons, physical attacks) against educators and school personnel from students, parents, colleagues, and administrators. Additionally, the national surveys discovered that the rate of violence against educators increased after the pandemic.

Violence should never become the price of admission to the teaching profession. We can acknowledge students’ trauma, behavioral needs, disabilities, and struggles while also insisting that educators have a right to be safe at work. Those ideas are not contradictory. And until we stop responding to teacher assaults with “that’s just teaching these days,” we will continue sending educators a devastating message: we know you are being hurt, and we have decided that hurting you is normal.

More importantly: Is this acceptable?