Barking at female staff and blocking doorways,. teachers warn of rise in misogyny and racism in UK schools.
A raw account of what it’s like inside UK classrooms right now, from those on the frontlines.
It started as a small thing. A weird sound from a boy at the back of the room. The kind of noise you’d expect in a zoo, not a classroom. At first, I thought he was clearing his throat. Then he did it again — a loud, sharp bark. Like a dog. Right at me.
His friends laughed. I stood there, stunned.
That wasn’t the first time something odd had happened. But it was the moment it hit me: this isn’t just teenage nonsense anymore. Something has shifted. Something dark.
I’m a secondary school teacher in the UK. I’ve been in the classroom for over a decade. I’ve seen my fair share of cheeky students, disruptive kids, even the odd fight. But lately — and I say this with real worry in my voice — the atmosphere has changed. And not in a small way.
The Barking Was Just the Beginning
There’s a new boldness in some of the boys. A swagger that wasn’t there before. They don’t just misbehave — they perform. They walk into class already smirking, already plotting. And the target? Nine times out of ten, it’s female staff.
I’ve seen a female colleague — an amazing teacher, really sharp, always on top of her class — nearly in tears after a group of boys refused to move from a corridor. They formed a line, shoulder to shoulder, and just stood there, blocking her. One of them leaned in and said, “Make us.”
And no, they weren’t kidding.
You think, Alright, maybe it’s just one school. Maybe we’ve got a particularly tough year group. But then you talk to other teachers — in Leeds, in Bristol, in London, even in small villages — and they all say the same thing:
“It’s like the boys have been radicalised online. They treat us like enemies, not teachers.”
Misogyny Isn’t New — But This Is Different
Let’s be real: schools have always had issues with sexism. Girls get catcalled in corridors. Female teachers have always had to deal with stupid comments about their clothes or voice. But what we’re seeing now? It’s deeper. More organized. Almost ideological.
I had a Year 10 boy tell me, flat-out:
“I don’t have to respect you. Women shouldn’t be in charge.”
No grin. No laugh. Just dead serious.
Where does that come from? Honestly, if you haven’t heard of Andrew Tate, count yourself lucky. But our boys have. Oh, they’ve heard of him. They quote him. They idolize him. They think he’s saying the truth no one else dares to say.
Tate calls women property. Says depression isn’t real. Claims men should dominate. And our students — literal children — are eating it up.
Some of them come into class parroting him. Others quietly agree. And when you try to push back, you’re met with eye rolls, smirks, or straight-up defiance. One kid told me, “You’re just jealous you’ll never have that many followers.”
I mean… what do you even say to that?
And Then There’s the Racism
It’s not just women feeling the heat. Teachers and students of colour are reporting more open racism too. Kids making “jokes” about accents. Saying the N-word like it’s casual slang. One of my colleagues, who’s mixed race, overheard a student say, “I don’t trust teachers who aren’t British.”
She’s from Birmingham.
What’s wild is that the kids don’t even flinch when they’re called out. Some of them genuinely think they’re doing nothing wrong. “It’s just banter,” they say. “You’re too sensitive.”
Banter. That word again. The shield they hide behind.
No Support, No Training, Just Silence
You’d think schools would be all over this. You’d think there’d be a plan — assemblies, policies, backup. But honestly? A lot of us feel totally abandoned.
Leadership teams don’t want the drama. They want peace. Quiet. Good Ofsted reports. Not headlines. So they brush it off. They tell us to de-escalate. They ask us not to “trigger” students.
One senior leader actually told a colleague: “Don’t make it about gender. Just say the student was disrespectful in general.”
Imagine that. Being told to erase your own experience because it’s inconvenient.
Girls Are Checking Out
Meanwhile, the girls in our schools are shrinking. Not literally, but emotionally. They’re withdrawing. Pulling back. Choosing silence over confrontation.
I overheard a group of Year 11 girls talking quietly in the library. One of them said, “Don’t wear that top. You’ll get comments again.”
Another one said, “Just laugh it off. It’s not worth the drama.”
That broke me a bit. Because they’re right. If they report it, nothing really happens. A warning. Maybe a call home. And then tomorrow, the same boys are back at it.
I had one bright, opinionated girl stop contributing in class altogether. When I asked her why, she said, “Every time I talk, they make some sexist joke or groan or say ‘feminist alert.’ It’s just easier not to speak.”
And that’s what’s scary. These girls are learning, early on, to stay small.
What Can We Even Do?
Honestly? Some days I don’t know.
But here’s what I do know:
- We can’t stay silent. We need to keep talking, even if it feels like shouting into the void.
- We need parents on board. A lot of them have no idea what their sons are watching. They think TikTok is just dance videos. It’s not.
- We need school leaders to stop prioritizing optics and start protecting staff.
- We need boys to be challenged, not coddled. Being 15 isn’t an excuse to dehumanize others.
- And we need each other. Honestly, the only reason some of us haven’t quit yet is because we’re leaning on one another.
So Yeah — They Bark at Us
And they mock us. And they ignore us. And sometimes they make us afraid to walk into our own classrooms.
But we’re still here. We’re still teaching. Still showing up. Not because it’s easy. But because it matters.
Because for every boy who’s absorbed this toxic nonsense, there’s another who’s confused, angry, and in desperate need of guidance. And for every girl who’s going quiet, there’s one waiting for a space where she can speak freely again.
We have to be that space. Even when it’s hard.
Especially when it’s hard.
