Black Boys Are Being Pushed Out of School Long Before College Is Even an Option

By Dr. RB | June 2, 2025

In March, The New York Times reported that 1 in 5 young Black men aged 20 to 24 are disconnected from both school and employment. For many, that was a wake-up call. For those of us who’ve spent our lives advocating for Black boys, it was yet another reminder of a system that continues to fail them — systematically, repeatedly, and from the very beginning.

The same article noted that Black men comprise only 19% of the student body at Howard University — a historically Black institution that should be teeming with our brilliance. But the absence of Black men in college isn’t the beginning of the problem. It’s the predictable consequence of an educational system that pushes them out long before they ever get the chance to opt in.

We didn’t lose these young men after high school. We started losing them in pre-K.

Early Displacement, Lifelong Consequences

According to the U.S. Department of Education, Black children represent about 18% of preschoolers — yet they account for nearly half of all preschool suspensions. This isn’t about behavior. This is about bias. It's about a system that labels Black boys as dangerous before they even know how to spell their names.

We see it every day: implicit bias, adultification, and unchecked fear fueling disciplinary actions that other children wouldn’t face for the same behaviors. Terms like “disruptive” or “defiant” become coded tools for exclusion. What begins as early surveillance quickly becomes lifelong stigma.

When the system treats you like a problem from the start, you eventually believe that you are.

Special education misplacements, suspensions, and expulsions are disproportionately handed to Black boys — not as educational support, but as management strategies to control their presence. These aren't neutral missteps. They are acts of harm.

And the consequences are devastating. A decade ago, suicide rates for Black boys aged 10–14 surged by 144%. We cannot talk about dropout rates without naming what they really are: psychological, emotional, and spiritual pushouts. Our boys are not “opting out.” They are being driven out — in silence, in pain, and in plain sight.

The Cost of Absence — and the Power of Presence

Representation in education matters. It heals. It humanizes. It gives our boys someone to reflect their value back to them. Yet only 6% of public school teachers are Black — and just 1.7% are Black men.

Still, where they are present, Black male educators often serve as the heart of the school building. They become mentors, protectors, lifelines. I know, because Black women in education saved me. They saw me. They told me I belonged. They refused to let me disappear.

But we cannot build a sustainable future for Black boys on the backs of a handful of heroes.

And let’s be honest: why would young Black men want to return to the very schools that traumatized them — to work in systems that never made space for their wholeness? Until we make our schools places of healing rather than harm, recruiting more Black male educators will remain a noble idea with shallow roots.

We Must Build Schools That Deserve Black Boys

The question isn't “How do we fix Black boys?”The real question is: What kind of schools — what kind of society — are we building that continues to harm them?

We need to start from the ground up. That means:

• Culturally affirming curricula that reflect their stories and strengths

• Restorative discipline grounded in dignity and accountability

• Healing-centered approaches to mental, emotional, and social well-being

• Assessments that highlight brilliance rather than measure perceived failure

Our boys are not broken. They are not burdens. They are not behavioral cases. They are builders of worlds — if we let them be.

The truth is: Black boys don’t hate learning. They hate being miseducated. They hate being unseen, unheard, and unvalued in systems designed without them in mind.

Let’s stop treating their absence in college as a mystery when their erasure started in preschool. Let’s stop wringing our hands about “achievement gaps” while ignoring the opportunity gaps we created. Let’s build classrooms, communities, and cultures that say clearly and consistently: Black boys matter here.

Because they do.

And until our schools reflect that truth, we will keep reading headlines like the one in The New York Times — and pretending to be surprised.