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A group of adults gathered outdoors at café-style tables, listening as a person in a teal sweatshirt stands and speaks to the group, gesturing with one hand, while others sit and watch attentively in a public plaza setting.

Jeff Whittle addresses an overflow crowd at a community meeting. | Photo by Megan Dombrowski

When Data and Reality Diverge on Student Behavior

January 5, 2026

When Data and Reality Diverge on Student Behavior

National data may show improvements in student behavior, but educators’ daily experiences tell a different story—highlighting gaps, burnout, and the need for better support.

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By Jeff Whittle

At a recent town hall meeting in Macomb County, Mich., I asked a retired teacher why she left the profession. Without hesitation, she said student behavior and disrespect: “I didn’t want to retire, but I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Her words echoed what I’ve heard from educators nationwide. After more than 30 years in special education, I’ve seen student behavior change, in both general and special ed, and not always for the better. In both well-resourced and struggling districts, educators are reporting the same troubling trends. Student behavior across grades has become more volatile.

The Disconnect

Yet, national data tells a different story. Reports show declines in bullying, fighting and staff victimization. On paper, things look better. But in reality, teachers are leaving. Paraprofessionals are overwhelmed. School bus drivers have quit mid-route. And future educators are being warned away from the profession, not just because of pay but because of behavior. Our data collection hides the real picture.

This disconnect is dangerous. It erodes trust. It silences the voices of those who live this reality: that the decline in students’ social skills started years before the COVID-19 pandemic. More teachers, paraprofessionals and bus drivers are reporting severe anxiety—even post-traumatic stress. The simple act of walking in to work (and it’s work that we love), while carrying that emotional weight, is debilitating.

And when we report severe behaviors or try to discuss what’s happening, we’re met with: “You knew what you signed up for.” That response is gut-wrenching. It’s dismissive. And it’s wrong.

Even before that town hall meeting, I had spoken at legislative coffee hours and conferences on this issue. Every time, my comments were met with affirmation and applause because educators recognized the truth. Afterward, they would share their own stories.

We school employees love our students. We know these incidents are complex and layered; that’s why we call ourselves “a union of professionals.” We don’t claim to have all the answers. But enough is enough.

Neither are we demanding blanket suspensions or expulsions. We understand the nuance. But when classrooms are literally destroyed, when staff are injured and repeatedly disrespected but nothing happens — or worse, when they’re blamed — then we need solutions.

We Must Be Heard

At the very least, we need to speak about this issue openly and honestly, in safe spaces. And be heard. Many new educators are afraid to make waves. Veteran educators simply try to get through the day. And you probably already know that when these behaviors erupt, all learning stops — not just for the student who’s acting out but for every child in the room, and often in surrounding rooms and hallways.

And what about the trauma to students who witness this behavior? When the incident is over, they’re asked to carry on as if nothing happened, although many are left unsettled. In “classroom clears” — situations where behavior becomes so dangerous that staff and students must evacuate for their safety — kids are asked to gather their things, move to another space and resume learning as though the disruption never happened.

But when classrooms are literally destroyed, when staff are injured and repeatedly disrespected but nothing happens — or worse, when they’re blamed — then we need solutions.

Then there is the property damage. At the end of one school year, my teacher and I calculated that about half of our classroom materials had been ruined by repeated acting out. Books were torn, manipulatives destroyed, windows broken, drywall and posters shredded and supplies trashed. These weren’t just objects; they were the tools meant to support learning. Their loss didn’t show up in any report but illustrated our reality.

Hiding In Plain Sight

Last year at a national meeting of educators, I asked about rising incidents of misbehavior. The presenter, although thoughtful, was beholden to the data. When I pointed out that reality doesn’t match the numbers, we couldn’t move past it, which only proved my point. We educators know how important data is. However, there is more to it than meets the eye.

Surveys show that teacher shortages are worsening, with student behavior often cited as a top reason for departures and early retirements. The numbers may capture suspensions or criminal acts, but they miss the daily grind of disrespect, defiance and emotional dysregulation that wears us down.

This is a national crisis hiding in plain sight. When policymakers rely on narrow definitions of misconduct, they miss the reality that classrooms are being disrupted in ways that don’t show up in statistics. And when educators’ voices are excluded from shaping policy, the gap between data and reality grows wider.

How To Make It Right

If we want to retain great educators, we need to listen to them. We need social supports. We need to tease apart the data so that teachers, paraprofessionals, bus drivers and other staff are no longer invisible. And we need to respect their expertise. Here’s what our leaders must do:

  • Pay attention to educators and school staff, not just the numbers.
  • Disaggregate the data by disability, setting and role.
  • Invest in trauma-informed training, behavior specialists and mental health services.
  • Respect the expertise of educators, especially in special education and support roles.

We can’t fix what we refuse to see. And we can’t retain great educators if we don’t support them.

To my fellow educators: You are not imagining this. You are not alone. And your voice matters. Together with your local union, document what’s missing. Speak up in numbers too large to ignore, because burnout thrives in silence. Challenge the narrative, because your truth is valid. Enlist the support of parents, because ignoring the problem doesn’t do their children any favors. You may be heartened by how much parents back you up.

If you can, attend school board and community meetings, legislator office hours and coffee hours. Tell the truth. If speaking to a group feels difficult, talk with elected officials or staff privately.

This is our moment to reclaim the truth. Not to shame or blame, but to improve our children’s education.

Jeff Whittle is a special education paraprofessional in Eastpointe, Mich., with more than 30 years of experience in Michigan public schools.

Republished with permission from AFT Voices.

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The AFT was formed by teachers more than 100 years ago and is now a 1.8 million-member union of professionals that champions fairness; democracy; economic opportunity; and high-quality public education, healthcare and public services for our students, their families and our communities. We are... See More
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