The Black Bouncer: The Problem with Pastoral Care in Schools

But why does this happen? Perhaps it’s because many Black staff members feel they can create impact in this space, where they can grow and thrive in their careers. It’s a role that allows them to lead with passion, represent their communities, and inspire others—all of which are vital to the success of pastoral care. However, in my experience, there is a complex and often challenging side to this work that rarely gets discussed.

The Harsh Reality of Pastoral Care

Working in pastoral care in schools often means dealing with volatile situations—breaking up fights, calming heated arguments, and managing high-stress incidents. Safeguarding sometimes puts you in harm’s way. I’ve been punched, kicked, spat at, and even had chairs thrown at me—all in the name of protecting children from harm. After incidents like these, you have to write reports and have your actions investigated by colleagues or senior leadership. When I first started, I entered with the wide-eyed hope of making a difference. I believed I could change the attitudes of disrespectful students and champion positive behaviour. Having been trained by some of the best SENCO (Special Educational Needs Coordinators) leaders and working closely with the SEN department, I felt well-prepared to manage behaviour effectively. But as time went on, I noticed something troubling: I was slowly morphing into what I now call the "Black Bouncer."

Becoming the "Black Bouncer"

The role of the Black Bouncer is one that many Black staff, often unconsciously, find themselves taking on. You are seen as the enforcer—the person who can manage difficult behaviour and bring order to chaos. My peers saw it as a positive: a strong Black role model who had both authority, flair and empathy. The perception was that I had a good rapport with the students. But the students themselves had a different view. Some of them saw me as "cool," which, in their eyes, translated to someone they could push boundaries with because they believed I would be more lenient. This made my lessons far more challenging compared to those of my white colleagues. Despite my best efforts to maintain discipline, I found myself repeatedly drawn into this “Black Bouncer” role, dealing with constant behavioural issues that seemed to escalate because of the way I was perceived.

Perception vs. Reality

It’s essential to recognise that Black men are not all the same. They come from diverse backgrounds, with varied interests, beliefs, and personalities. What you see on TV, social media, or even in your neighbourhood doesn’t represent the full picture. The stereotype that all Black men share the same culture or behaviours is both reductive and harmful. Schools must avoid making assumptions based solely on skin colour. Each person irrespective of their race is an individual, and their identity goes far beyond these narrow representations. There’s something deeper at play here—a blend of social psychology, perception, and the self-fulfilling prophecy. Let’s dive deeper into this context: Social psychology explores how individuals’ thoughts and behaviours are influenced by societal dynamics and group interactions. In the school environment, the perception of Black staff as natural enforcers of discipline is shaped by biases and stereotypes. These perceptions, in turn, create expectations. The self-fulfilling prophecy occurs when these expectations influence behaviour.

Black staff, perceived as disciplinarians, may unconsciously fall into that role. As they are repeatedly placed in conflict situations, their actions reinforce the very stereotype they are trying to escape, locking them into the "Black Bouncer" role. This cycle highlights how societal perceptions can limit personal growth, emphasising the need for systemic change in how all teachers are trained and perceived. It’s not enough to recognise these biases—there must be an active effort to dismantle them, ensuring that roles and expectations are shared across the teaching community, rather than assigned based on race or identity. When students or staff start seeing you as the go-to person for managing bad behaviour, it becomes harder to escape that role. The more you handle challenging situations, the more they come your way, and soon, you’re on the front lines of conflict all the time. One staff member once mentioned how the issue worsens when white colleagues deliberately assign Black to handle challenging behaviors. When things go wrong, it’s often the Black staff who face discipline, even though they were placed in the difficult role by the same white colleague. To make matters worse, the white staff then "parachute" into the situation, acting as savior. This is especially problematic, they noted, because it can severely damage the Black staff's morale and career.

Why Black Men Quit Teaching

Christopher Emdin, Associate Professor of Science Education, touches on this issue in his New York Times op-ed, “Why Black Men Quit Teaching.” He highlights that Black male teachers, while often seen as “powerful role models,” are also burdened with the expectation of acting as disciplinarians who offer "tough love." This expectation overshadows their potential in academics and mentorship beyond behaviour management. Emdin asserts that simply being Black and male does not fix the challenges faced by minority students and that Black teachers should not be pigeonholed into roles based on outdated perceptions of discipline and authority. Emdin writes, “Instead of fixating on Black male teachers, we need to examine how teachers are trained, their beliefs about young minority men, and how they engage their students.” This idea directly aligns with my experiences. The expectation that I, as a Black man, would naturally take on the role of disciplinarian—of the Black Bouncer—limited my ability to contribute meaningfully to academic spaces. Schools need to train all teachers, regardless of race, to acknowledge their biases and learn strategies to engage with students from different backgrounds.

The Impact on Mental Health and Well-Being

Over time, the constant pressure of being the "Black Bouncer" takes a serious toll on mental health. Always being on high alert and fearing that the next situation could escalate to the point of risking your job creates chronic stress. The need to constantly manage difficult incidents leaves little time for breaks, as you're often writing reports or patrolling high-risk areas during what should be your downtime. The physical strain of continually stepping into conflict, blowing the whistle, shouting, and adopting a stern demeanour can lead to stress-related health issues, such as headaches, fatigue, anxiety, and a general sense of being overwhelmed. These ongoing demands, combined with the emotional weight of being seen primarily as an enforcer, can result in burnout and a diminished sense of purpose. For Black staff in these roles, this stress can become overwhelming, making it hard to maintain passion for the job. Schools must acknowledge the impact on mental and physical well-being by fair workloads, and ensuring that Black staff are not disproportionately placed in stressful situations simply because they are perceived as being better suited to handle conflict.

A Shift in Focus

Realising this, I knew I had to shift my focus. The "Black Bouncer" role was consuming my time and energy. I didn’t want to become pigeonholed as the head of year, behaviour specialist, or pastoral lead simply because of my ability to manage difficult situations. I had more to offer than just being the enforcer. I began focusing on the academic side of my work. While pastoral care came naturally to me, I wanted to invest my energy in something that challenged me intellectually and allowed me to grow in different ways. This shift also helped me redefine my role within the school and avoid the trap of constantly being the person who swoops in to "fix" behavioural problems.

Breaking the Cycle

As Emdin suggests, Black male teachers should not be seen solely as disciplinarians. Schools must stop relying on Black staff to manage difficult behaviours because of their race. Instead, they should train all educators to meet students' unique needs and create environments where students feel cared for, rather than just controlled. For Black staff in schools, breaking out of the “Black Bouncer” role requires a conscious effort. It’s not enough to be good at managing behaviour—there needs to be space to thrive academically, intellectually, and in leadership positions beyond just pastoral care. Senior leadership teams need to recognise the emotional and physical toll of constantly managing conflict and offer pathways for Black staff to develop in other areas. Pastoral care is vital, and Black staff can play a crucial role in it, but it shouldn’t become a one-dimensional career path. Schools must ensure that Black staff are not only seen as behaviour managers but as educators, leaders, and role models in all aspects of school life.

If you are Black and working in pastoral care, that’s perfectly fine—it’s a valuable and important role. However, be cautious of stereotypes or being cast as the hero or enforcer. This can create a self-fulfilling prophecy where your potential is limited. Behaviour management is everyone’s responsibility, not just yours.