Rethinking School - Issues with the Institution. How the school environment is contributing to the rise in homeschooling.

Week 7 – of our Rethinking School Series

Last week, we explored the sheer volume of homework. How much work is truly necessary, and how much is simply overwhelming for young learners? We will also consider the complex issue of how much homework is sufficient to be beneficial.

This week, we focus on another challenge that many families encounter in mainstream education: the school environment and how the institution itself contributes to disengagement and rethinking school.

In today’s post, we turn our attention to the behaviour of schools, their policies, and the attitudes of teachers. I aim to keep a balanced perspective, speaking both as an educator who has worked at the chalk face and as someone who understands teenagers—their thinking, their world, and, sometimes, how they don’t help themselves. I’ve heard countless stories from families who turned to homeschooling after difficult experiences, and while what has been said in staff room will stay there out of professional courtesy, they often echo what our homeschoolers report.

That said, I have great respect for the dedication of many colleagues. Despite facing rudeness, threats, and even physical harm from both students and parents, they continue to go above and beyond—often working evenings, weekends, and holidays, running events and clubs without pay, and even buying resources with their own money to ensure no child goes without.

We must acknowledge the vital role dedicated educators play in helping students gain the skills and knowledge needed for success.

However, many would agree the current education system is in disarray—hampered by political decisions, council planning, funding shortfalls, and flawed inspections.

These blogs do not focus on the children who thrive because of and thanks to the many great teachers out, but on those failed by the system or, in some cases, by the people within it. This week, I’ll share stories that show how these failures drive families to rethink school and towards homeschooling.

Uniforms

The next two case studies focus on school uniforms. Proponents argue uniforms foster a sense of belonging, unity, and preparation for professional life, where specific attire is the norm—whether it’s a barrister’s gown, a soldier’s fatigues, or a nurse’s scrubs. Historically, standardised clothing also signified community, simplified daily routines, and made it easier to identify group members—whether in schools, religious orders, the military, or sports teams.

Uniforms can reduce peer pressure and bullying over clothing, and research suggests they improve discipline, lower classroom noise, and enhance focus. For teachers, they make identifying students easier, particularly on trips.

However, unlike the workplace where employers provide uniforms, families must purchase school attire themselves. This shifts the cost burden and limits schools’ control over quality and wear. Critics also point out that high academic performance linked to “smart” uniforms may simply reflect the advantages of families who can also afford private tutoring, rather than the benefits of a smart uniform itself.

My issue with uniforms is not only about their existence—it’s about how they’re chosen and enforced. One summer, when I was a school based teacher - temperatures hit 38°C, male teachers were allowed to ditch jackets and ties. Female staff? No mention of removing tights. The staffroom that night was… tense.

For younger pupils, uniforms should be simple, practical, and easy to put on—able to survive playground football, art class mess, and endless washing. The only real rule? Label everything.

Some items, like school ties, are outdated relics. Once used to wipe sweat, they now serve no purpose and can even be safety hazards, Notably, there is no specific profession that mandates women to wear ties yet school girls are still made to wear them. Many workplaces have dropped them entirely. Schools should too.

Then there’s the blazer rule. Forcing teenagers to wear both jumpers and blazers—or even just blazers—on hot days ignores the realities of puberty, sweat, and comfort. I once saw students stream out of school into 32°C heat, pink-faced and drenched, only to rip off blazers and ties the moment they turned the corner. That wasn’t about smartness—it was about branding and control, not the students’ well-being.

Banning jumpers from Easter to autumn half-term ignores the reality of cold, wet days—especially when Easter is early. A blazer alone often isn’t warm enough, and in winter, the jumper–blazer combo doesn’t cut it either. A proper coat is warmer and more practical, particularly for students outside at break or walking long distances home.

Teenagers don’t need to be told when to add or remove layers; they’re perfectly capable of regulating their own temperature. Even infants develop a basic sense of this early on. While some autistic students may need extra guidance in hot weather, this is not a universal issue.

These uniform rules are just one more example of the system prioritising control and branding over common sense.

Case Study 1

In the final half-term of his last year at school, one student had a sudden growth spurt. His trousers, which once rested on his shoe laces, crept up to expose his ankles. His family couldn’t afford to replace them. After inspection, teachers ruled his uniform “inappropriate” because it was an inch too short. The punishment? Two weeks in isolation. The last two weeks of his school life in that school!

Case Study 2

A smart, independent young woman joined us after leaving school over a uniform dispute. That morning, she passed two teachers on gate duty without issue, attended three lessons where no teacher raised a concern, and then, at lunch, was stopped by the deputy head for a “uniform violation.”

When she pointed out that five other staff members had no problem with her attire, he extended her time in isolation. She went straight to the school office, requested to see the uniform policy, and asked staff to check if she was in breach—they said no. She then called home and walked out, refusing to return.

When her parents later asked the deputy head what was wrong with her uniform, he couldn’t say. When asked if she had challenged him rudely, he admitted she hadn’t. So why isolate her for the rest of the week? He had no answer—only defensiveness.

We all know bodies come in different shapes and sizes, and children grow quickly. Yet some schools enforce rigid uniform rules that fail to account for this. Parents may buy perfectly fitting trousers or skirts, only for them to become too short within weeks. (And to be clear, I’m not supporting the choice to roll skirts so high they no longer meet modesty standards: though skirt length should be agreed with students, not imposed on them.) When families can’t afford immediate replacements, students may face scrutiny or even isolation as punishment, despite having done nothing wrong - except grow! This isn’t defiance; it’s financial reality. No child should be penalised for an ill-fitting uniform.

Haircuts

Haircut rules often spark conflict in schools. While intended to promote neatness and safety, they can impose limits on length, style, and colour—sometimes banning extreme cuts, highlights, or “unnatural” shades. Policies must not discriminate on the basis of protected characteristics like race or sex.

In primary school, hair care is simple: wash regularly, comb for head lice, and tie back long hair. The challenges arise in secondary school, when teenagers use hairstyles to express their identity. Schools should respect cultural and religious needs, making reasonable exceptions. The next two case studies highlight how contentious this can become.

Case Study 3

One of our learners, bullied in primary school for her bright red hair, dyed it brown before starting secondary. For two years, no one knew her natural colour—until a trick of the light in Year 9 revealed faint roots. She was sent to isolation and told she could not return until the dye was removed.

Her parents explained the history of bullying, but the school refused to reconsider. She spent half a term in isolation, then returned after the autumn break—only for the bullying to resume within weeks. By Christmas, she had joined our homeschooling community.

Case Study 4

Some schools set minimum hair length rules, often above a grade two. One autistic student, who always wore a neat short-back-and-sides, was placed in isolation the day after a routine haircut. The school’s policy stated hair must be “suitable for a professional office,” which his clearly was.

To challenge this, I photographed ten professionals—including a bank manager, accountant, HR administrator, office manager, CEO, and even the county council’s senior social worker—each with a similar style. Despite the evidence, he spent a week in isolation. The experience left him feeling targeted, self-conscious about his disability, and disillusioned with the school, which never apologised or acknowledged its mistake.

Interactions

The next three case studies highlight what happens in school. Many of our learners didn’t leave mainstream education because of grades, it was the day-to-day reality of school life, inconsistent discipline, and policies that put children at risk.

Case Study 5

In one English class, students took turns reading aloud. One boy, who had an EHCP, was exempt from this becuase of his disability yet the teacher repeatedly called on him. A girl in the class reminded the teacher of the exemption and offered to read the passage for him. The teacher refused and insisted the boy read. She warned, “If this continues, none of us will read.” The class stayed silent for the last ten minutes.

Later that day in the playground, the teacher approached her, grabbed her water bottle  she was drinking from, so forcefully he damaged her teeth, and began berating her until another staff member intervened. The parents wanted to involve the police, but the school persuaded them not to press charges. The teacher was placed on two weeks’ sick leave. On his first day back, he again asked the boy to read aloud. The girl stood up and walked out.

Case Study 6

While I was a class teacher, I taught a boy born with a congenital condition affecting his bowel control, particularly during flatulence. In our small primary school, we accommodated him by placing his classroom near the toilets, and over time he learned to manage his condition independently.

When he moved to secondary school, his EHCP allowed him to leave class without permission to use the nearest toilet and provided a locker for spare clothes. He adapted well and avoided incidents that could cause embarrassment.

However, because there were no major accidents, the school decided he no longer needed these allowances—and withdrew both the toilet access and the locker.

Would you like me to continue? No - thought not!

The embarrassment was intolerable for him. From that day, he refused to step back in the school.

Case Study 7

At one of my last schools, a single student’s severe behavioural issues dominated an entire class. His violent outbursts included throwing chairs, overturning tables, slamming doors, and physically attacking staff—kicking, punching, spitting, and pulling hair. Everyone learned to keep their distance.

When these episodes erupted, the class was evacuated to the hall while the teaching assistant tried to calm him. The disruption was frequent and prolonged, affecting not only his learning but that of 29 classmates. The school couldn’t expel him, had nowhere to isolate him, and there was no alternative placements in the county. It was deemed he was safer in school than out.

By Key Stage 2, ten children had been withdrawn by their families, with the school making no effort to replace them. Despite extra provision to help those affected catch up, the disruptive student remained—and so did the problem.

Many teachers know this reality: some students simply shouldn’t be in mainstream education. Special schools have the staff, space, and smaller class sizes to meet complex needs, but there aren’t enough places for every child who requires them.

We hear the same from families who are rethinking school and turning to homeschooling—not from the disruptive students, but from the polite, eager learners who can’t fully engage because teachers are tied up managing disruptive behaviour. These average-ability students don’t get the praise reserved for top achievers, nor the attention given to troublemakers. Instead, they sit quietly, unnoticed, unchallenged, and increasingly disillusioned. For them, the choice becomes moving to another school, often with similar problems or with fees attached, or leaving for homeschooling.

Some of our young men join us after feeling pressured to mimic bad behaviour just to avoid becoming targets themselves. Simply being nearby during a fight can get them swept up, punished, and unfairly labelled as troublemakers. For them, homeschooling offers a way to stay clear of conflict altogether.

For many young women, the constant, aggressive behaviour management in mainstream schools—at the gates, in corridors, classrooms, playgrounds, and even around toilets—felt intimidating and exhausting. Compliant students found themselves shouted at from morning to afternoon for no reason other than being present.

Children model the behaviour of the adults around them. When teachers rely on shouting, it can normalise aggression as a form of communication, leading to anxiety, low self-esteem, school refusal, and long-term behavioural issues. We recognise the pressures teachers face, but the impact on students, especially girls, can be deeply damaging.

This week, we delved into another reason why many families opt to leave mainstream education: the school environment and its inherent contributions to disengagement. The established rules surrounding identity, the constant obsession of pupils as part of an identical community regardless of size, shape or difference, and the emphasis on that conformity which is creating a sense of exclusion and not inclusion that is intended.

Next week, we will focus on a group of home schoolers who have left main stream education because they did not feel safe due to bullying. We will look closely at how bullying has manifested and the schools response.