In 1977, the Supreme Court’s decision in Ingram v. Wright marked the formal legalization of corporal punishment in schools. The court stated that the Bill of Rights’ 8th amendment ban on cruel and unusual punishment applies only to convicted criminals and does not apply to public schools, nor the practice of corporeal punishment in schools. The court wrote, “The openness of the public school and its supervision by the community afford significant safeguards against the kinds of abuses from which that Amendment protects convicted criminals.”

Three years later, I entered a system spiraling out of control, where safeguards and openness failed to protect students like me from unimaginable abuses of power. The echoes of that traumatic era continue to reverberate, intertwining with my experiences as a teacher and propelling me toward a commitment to reform.

The school I entered was a breeding ground for fear and humiliation. A dodgeball game turned into a daily ritual of physical and verbal abuse, and the vice principal wielded a wooden paddle with disturbing enthusiasm, publicly spanking students while encouraging mockery from onlookers. Even at the 6th-grade dance, I fell victim to the arbitrary exercise of power, receiving a public spanking for a perceived dress code violation.

These traumatic events, etched into my memory, formed the backdrop of my decision to become a teacher. Despite my aversion to the traditional education system, I resolved to prove that it could be done better. Little did I know that the scars of my own experiences would resurface, shaping my approach to teaching.

In my classroom, the specter of power struggles loomed large. The need to control an overwhelming number of students amplified the fear of loss of control and inadequacy, reminiscent of the harsh tactics employed by my own tormentors. Studies have shown that power heightens existing conditions, and within the classroom, the historical experiences of teachers acting harshly are magnified.

The internal conflict was palpable, but I refused to succumb to the systemic obstacles that held teachers back from meaningful relationships with students. I embarked on a journey of self-coaching, finding alternative ways to give students attention and time beyond the constraints of the system. Regular home visits, afterschool programs, and even walking students home became integral to my teaching practice. While these efforts felt successful, the time commitment remained impractical for most teachers.

My commitment to reform faced its litmus test during a parent-teacher conference when a mother insisted I resort to corporal punishment to control her son. This moment crystallized the corruption inherent in the power struggle, prompting me to reject fear-based tactics. The echoes of my past experiences fueled a determination to build trust rather than perpetuate a cycle of fear.

As I stepped into my role as a teacher, I carried the weight of my past experiences, a heavy burden that fueled my determination to disrupt the vicious cycle of fear. Yet, within the confines of an overpopulated public school classroom, I faced the daunting reality of the power struggle. The system’s design, rooted in a teacher-to-student ratio exceeding 30:1, perpetuates a broken structure where individualized attention becomes an unattainable luxury.

This struggle, felt by educators across the nation, is not merely a personal challenge but a systemic flaw. The overwhelming number of students demands control, leaving little room for the nurturing relationships students need. It becomes a choice between maintaining order and losing oneself in the system or risking chaos and potentially failing as an educator.

The consequences of this power struggle extend beyond the classroom, seeping into the very psyche of teachers who grapple with the daily battle for control. Fear becomes the driving force, eclipsing the joy of teaching, and creating a chasm between educators and students. The strain is evident, but the fault lies not with the individuals caught in this struggle, but with a system that perpetuates a damaging status quo.

In the heart of education reform lies a fundamental truth: the overpopulated public school classroom, with its oppressive teacher-to-student ratio, serves as the epicenter of our broken practices. It is a crucible where the power struggle flourishes, leaving educators trapped between fearfully asserting control and losing themselves in a system that prioritizes quantity over quality.

As we navigate the complexities of reform, we must shift our focus to the root cause—the flawed system design. Blaming individual teachers, parents, students, or administrators is a diversion from the real battle. The call to action is not a condemnation of those caught in the struggle but a rallying cry for systemic change.

Our democracy, robust and resilient, grants citizens the power to demand reform. We must advocate for a shift in the paradigm, urging policymakers and educational leaders to prioritize smaller class sizes. By dismantling the barriers that prevent teachers from forming genuine connections with their students, we pave the way for a transformative education system.

In the quest for reform, let us remember that change is not only possible but imperative. It’s time to dismantle the power struggle, eliminate the 30+:1 teacher-student ratio, and usher in an era where every student receives the attention and mentorship they deserve. As we untangle the knots of the broken system, we rediscover the essence of teaching—being present, forging connections, and cultivating a love for learning that transcends the confines of a crowded classroom.

This journey is not without its challenges, but within the struggle lies the potential for transformation. Reforming education demands a shift toward healing relationships among teachers, students, parents, and administrators—a shift from fear to trust. As we navigate the overhaul of education on the horizon, this concept should guide our designs for new schools and inspire teachers to lead with their hearts, fostering a learning environment founded on trust, understanding, and the unwavering belief in the power of reform.