Confronting Dark Truths in the American Classroom by Ranita Ray (book cover is in image) exposes how marginalized children in the public school system are impacted by the prejudices and behaviors of those who are charged with caring for them.

While this book only covers one case study in a single school, I hope it opens up a conversation and more research on how Ray explains "slow violence" experienced in by students in schools impacts the development and success of our children.

The narration by Lipica Shah was so well done that I finished this book in one day. The writing by the author was accessible, and the book and audio were so well aligned, I could easily move between the two.

Thank you @stmartinspress, @macmillan.audio, and @netgalley for the opportunity to read the ARC and listen to the ALC. All opinions are my own.

Pub Date: Aug 05 2025
Rating: 4 Stars

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I chose this to review as an ARC because I work in education as a paraprofessional in a relatively diverse school and am sincere about confronting my own biases. While as a whole I think that the concerns the book raises are legitimate, the cherry-picking of data that seemed to support the author’s experiences in one school felt jaded. The representation of most teachers choosing their path because it was the only option available to them or it being just a job rather than a passion feels unrealistic-I can’t imagine any teachers staying in their jobs in the current climate for any reason other than passion for teaching. That said, the presentation of stories from the school along with data was compelling. I will continue to look into the footnotes as I go for my own education.

i provided feedback on the audio version.

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This one is a hard one to read for many reasons, not the least of which is Ray's analysis of public school teachers (using Clark County in Las Vegas, Nevada where she did her sociological research).

Her book title refers to the distress teachers and school districts cause students generally white teachers teaching in underserved school districts with little resources and the majority of students who are from marginalized groups. There's animosity, frustration, and demeaning behaviors. There are little resources, exhaustion, and even fewer avenues to pursue. While it's not storytelling, but academic, it is about telling all the details which makes it feel plodding.

For any educator, it's a hard lens to view the system with. I am the type of teacher Ray writes about, a white woman teaching in a district to students who do not look like me. I would be hard-pressed not to reflect of my practices and thoughts. We all have bias, and it's in confronting that bias that we can start to pave the way. But I also recognize that Ray presents the book in a way that nothing really changed for her because she had that view going into her research. We all know that every family, every workplace has toxic people or culture- it's what we do with it that makes the difference. This is not a feel good book. And ironically, the pandemic which completely derailed public school education is where the book ends. And for that reason I'm also a little annoyed- Ray talks about how her plans were to continue to follow her third, fourth, and fifth graders hopefully up to high school but then like the teachers who abandoned their jobs, she also abandoned her post and decided to write with what she had. I do want to be defensive, for a brief moment, that this is life. People's situations. Education. We're all in it together and this is a call to action that we can do better. Be better.

Slow Violence by Ranita Ray is a great read especially for teachers and administrators.
I found Rays studies to be honest they were heartbreaking and realistic.
I was ultimately sucked in because I was intrigued and found myself shocked.
All in all it was compelling.

Thanks to NetGalley and St. Martin's Press for access to this title. All opinions expressed are my own.

I decided that I needed to plug in some nonfiction in the reading schedule this week. Over the last five days, I have explored sociologist Ranita Ray's thorough account of her observations in a Las Vegas classroom from 2017 to 2020. Of course, her study came to an abrupt halt with the COVID-19 shutdowns. As is recounted in the publisher's description, "She was there to conduct research on the lack of resources and budget cuts that regularly face public schools. However, a few months into her immersion, a disturbed Ray recognized that that greatest impediment to students was the “slow violence” that preys on their minds, bodies, and spirits at the hands of teachers and administrators who are charged with their care."


I am a teacher, but not one in the United States. However, the situations and conversations that Ranita Ray explores throughout her book can also be found here in Canada. I would also concede that there are people in my profession who shouldn't be in the classroom. Some of the teachers that the author gets to know and observe are very emotionally immature. For the record, they are people that I wouldn't want to have lunch with at school. The whole white history month episode. Cringe. I was also curious how much pedagogical instruction teachers in that school district received. Because there are so many resources out there to support classroom teachers. I suppose those questions would have been outside the realm of the author's research.

At the end, when the author provides an update on where all the educators are now, I didn't care. I was relieved; some of them decided to leave the profession. I was more interested in what happened to all those wonderful students that she met in the classroom.

Because the text is heavily focused on the research, the pacing is slow, and it is a little dry, but I am assuming the writer wanted to keep it this way because the subject is emotionally draining.

I do feel like the book ends, leaving me aware of the points the author wanted to make, but not sure of what audience is being addressed here. I have noticed other reviewers mention it would be a great book for educators and administrators. Someone else, I believe, mentioned perhaps people interested in the U.S. education system. I just hope other readers can be receptive to it. It's a taboo conversation, and we need to start having it. Everywhere.








Publication Date 05/08/25
Goodreads Review 05/08/25

Author Ranita Ray monitors Las Vegas classrooms in elementary and middle school to witness the interactions between students and teachers. What she learns is both subtle and shocking. The teachers and students accept her presence in their classrooms over the years, as she sits quietly watching their behavior with and among one another, and even think of her as a friend. Yet Ray finds that the racially mixed classrooms, with their mostly young white teachers who are not dedicated to teaching as a career path, often disparage students they find troublesome and have little empathy for the parents who love their children and want the best for them. The title Slow Violence is appropriate.

This was an extremely timely book. As a former educator, I luckily did not see any of this happening in my school - while I was there at least. I think this is a must read for all individuals looking to enter the field of education at any level, individuals involved in educational policy, and anyone who is interested in social justice within schools. My only complaint is that it was incredibly slow moving. It did take me about a week to get through and I’m a generally fast reader. I might have enjoyed it more if the chapters were shorter so it at least felt like it was moving a bit more quickly. Overall, I highly recommend this read.

Thank you to St. Martin’s Press and NetGalley for sharing this powerful and discomforting book about education, Slow Violence: Confronting Dark Truths in the American Classroom.. Ranita Ray, a sociologist, spends several years following students in Las Vegas schools as they interact with their teachers and gradually experience the kind of institutional violence and power differentials that their teachers apply seemingly to harm rather than help them. I typically enjoy reading books about education, even ones that often challenge our assumptions and understanding of the purpose of schools, such as Eve Ewing’s excellent Original Sins, Aaron Kupchik’s insightful Suspended Education, and Betina Love’s powerful Punished for Dreaming, to name a few recent books. Ray’s book would fall into a similar category of a critical examination of policies and practices that inhibit student success, while also highlighting the kinds of power differentials teachers often wield and their seeming indifference to make change and begin to advocate for their students. Ray writes in her conclusion that “it is difficult for many of us to challenge the perception of universal altruism among teachers,” and I felt this kind of dissonance while reading the book. Not only did her observations and conclusions make me upset, but they also caused me to reflect on my own teaching experiences and those I’ve observed, thinking back to when either I witnessed or engaged in these types of behaviors that contributed to the slow violence that students experience. Although I cannot say that this kind of behavior has never happened, I will admit that after some experience teaching and working with student populations much different from my own background, I became more flexible and understanding in my teaching and approach to accommodations in the classroom. Furthermore, I’ve also been lucky to work with other like-minded colleagues who shared similar educational philosophies and approaches that attempted to be student-centered and supportive of student learning. Nevertheless, I’ve witnessed instances of the kind of slow violence that Ray explains from both teachers and administrators, and not just towards students, but towards teachers and staff who were deemed as not team players or not on board to help students. Although I question some of the generalizability of Ray’s conclusions based on her work in 2 schools in Las Vegas, I can agree that often power, policies, and pedagogy work against students whose backgrounds may be culturally incongruent with teachers and administrators. Nevertheless, there are steps and strategies that schools and teacher education programs can take to help strengthen the teaching corps and better prepare them for the diverse student bodies they will work with in American schools. I know from my teacher education, I was underprepared to work with the kinds of diverse populations in many American schools, and often fell into the apprenticeship of observation, relying on teaching the way I was taught, which is not appropriate for students from different generations and cultures. It wasn’t until I worked with other teachers, observed their classes, and reached out for help about either student issues or teaching practices that I was able to develop some more engaging practices that focused more on student learning and helping to make students feel like they had a say in their learning in our classes.
However, I’m digressing, and Ray’s book offers much to critique and question in her ethnography of these students’ experiences. Ray begins explaining her methods for her research, which took place between 2017 and 2020, right before the pandemic, and her definition of slow violence, which reflects the kind of psychological and emotional violence over physical violence. She also includes an important caveat that the conclusions she drew were based on her observations, conversations, and scholarly knowledge. In the prologue, Ray provides some background about her own experience as a multilingual learner who was threatened and punished for speaking her mother tongue in school. It’s this memory that enables Ray to feel more empathy and understanding for the students she observes than her own teacher, having experienced that kind of power differential and disregard for her identity, interests, and culture that the students at Ribbon Elementary and Doreena Middle School experienced with their teachers and administrators. Although the teachers are presented as seemingly progressive and advocates for diversity and student success, as the school year progresses, we learn, through Ray’s observations, that their motives and actions are inconsistent with what we would think about teachers. Ray offers some further insight into understanding these teachers, noting that for some of them, teaching was a second or third career option, and not something that always took precedence in their future plans. This point about the teaching profession is also an important consideration since there is always a need for qualified teachers, and Ray frequently stresses about the lack of diversity in the teaching corps, which is primarily comprised of white women and men who frequently teach students whose ethnicities, cultures, languages, and backgrounds are different from their own. These differences may allow for biases and assumptions to influence instructional decisions, grades, and even future opportunities for learning. Ray’s observations of the teachers show how they frequently let their assumptions about the students and their families influence the type of work they received and how they interpreted the students’ achievement or motivation in class. Although Ray frequently notes how the school is under-resourced, with as many as 40 students in a classroom and limited access to paraprofessionals and other in class aides, it also seems like the nature of teaching has changed along with the expectations about the roles that teachers are expected to play in students’ lives. While I was shocked to read about some of the assumptions that teachers made about the lives of their students, it also seemed like some of the teachers were unprepared or had no background to possibly support the kinds of challenges that some of their students experienced. For example, one student who is featured as a star student in the class, lost her 2 month old brother, and her disengagement and withdrawal from class and socialization seemed swift and in need of some kind of intervention. Although her teachers reached out, I was surprised that the school didn’t do too much more for her after this devastating loss. Furthermore, I’m not sure how many teachers are able to navigate and support students through this kind of grief. As a teacher who has experienced loss, I think that I can be empathetic to students who also experience loss. However, it would seem like the school or even counselors within the district might offer some support for teachers to then support students. I worked in a school where we experienced the loss of students in close succession, and we basically stopped everything to reach out to students (and other colleagues) and make sure that everyone’s emotions were considered. It just made me think about how teachers do more than just teach—they are often expected to emotionally support students, interpret their feelings, and consider their changes, socially, emotionally, academically, and identity-wise. Although some may view teachers as “instructors”, the work of a teacher is much more complex and demanding, and often requires some skills and attributes that are not always the focus of teacher education and professional development. Beyond this kind of emotional support, teachers are also expected to be something like a technician, where they need to assess students, examine their results, and then devise strategies and supports for their students, especially those who are at opposite ends of the learning curve. I’m not sure how that is possible with 40 students who require varying levels of support and enrichment, but this is part of the new reality for teachers and their work. Regardless, Ray’s observations also made me wonder what happened in the teacher meetings for the 4th and 5th grade teams that she followed. Ray seems privy to some of the teacher conversations in the lounge, where the teachers engaged in disparaging the parents and families of their students, but I wondered whether there was any kind of shared strategies and data analysis that was happening across the teams.
Ray’s observations also made me question the administrators at these schools. In Ribbon, Dr. Geertz seemed almost oblivious to the issues occurring within the classrooms. One of the only male and Black teachers in the school left his 5th grade class after being scrutinized for his harsh treatment of female students. Although I was wincing at the ways in which he responded to and disciplined some of the female students, I also saw this as maybe an opportunity for some professional goals and either the principal or another teacher coach to come in and support this teacher with some strategies and measurable goals for improving his interactions with his students. Although I know that teacher observations do not always happen in schools, I was surprised by how independent and unsupported these teachers were. It seemed like the schools were confirming that assumption that teaching is a isolating job, where teachers shut their doors and just work with their students. Ray also explained that she felt conflicted about not intervening when she witnessed the slow violence in the classes she observed, and as a researcher, she’s correct not to step in. Not only would it influence her research conclusions and potentially damage her relationship with these teachers, but as an outside observer who was in the school to observe the students, I’m not sure that the teachers would have accepted her observations or suggestions. If anything, it seemed like the entire culture of the school was deviating from the messages and slogans posted around the campus. I wondered whether the school leadership was aware of this, and whether they participated this kind of slow violence through their own assumptions as well.
Ray’s observations are descriptive and detailed, and she provides some useful connection to research when necessary, which helps to situate and understand the behaviors and consequences we read about in the book. I really appreciated this aspect of her scholarship and analysis, since it allowed readers to see that much of what we are reading about in this school is not necessarily an isolated incident, but is potentially happening in other schools and to other students in the US. Still, I was shocked to see how some of the teachers didn’t really understand basic elements of teaching or connecting with their students. For example, in 5th grade, the teacher planned a unit around Civil Rights in the 1960s, reading a recent book that takes place in Alabama in the 1960s. The students made their own connections with the Colin Kaepernick and other events in 2017, but the teacher seemed to disparage these astute connections the students were making. Rather than listening and questioning them to explain their connections further, she dismissed their connections. It was really unclear what the focus of the lesson was, and whether the students were working on reading skills, history, or what the objectives for the lessons were. I can only imagine how confused the students must have felt. I wondered whether this teacher knew about learning objectives and how to structure a lesson. Furthermore, I was shocked to read about how many teachers used candy to motivate students. This 5th grade teacher apparently kept a candy stash and used candy as a reward, which I’ve always viewed as something teachers should not do. Not only are extrinsic rewards like this something that will eventually demotivate students (or make performance contingent on these kinds of rewards), but also giving sugar to students seems unhealthy. The schools I’ve worked in along with my kids’ schools never allowed candy for students, but it seemed like a regular practice for these schools. Some 5th grade students organized a distraction to snatch some of the candy from the teacher, and when she found out she basically held it against these students for the rest of the year, assuming that they were criminals. Another teacher in the middle school seemingly gave candy to students no matter what they did, even when they disobeyed him or gave incorrect or off-task responses. I just wondered about what message he was offering for his students. It was incredibly shocking to read about this kind of reward for academic work. Why not offer some praise or positive feedback? Why not try to acknowledge their students’ efforts by noting what they did well?
Also of concern was the kind of deficit approach that many of the teachers took about their students that seemed to be informed by their biases and assumptions and was further fed by their interactions and gossiping in the teachers’ lounge. I learned pretty early in my teaching career that the lounge was not a fun place to be, and that it was often a site of complaints and commiserating rather than any kind of productive work. I think this could be true of much work, not just education. However, it’s more personal and emotional since teaching is such an emotional and time investment. However, I think I’ve always learned that it’s important to identify what students bring to the classroom and not what they are lacking. Identify their strengths and interests, utilize their experiences and skills, rather than harping on what they are missing. It’s a simple lesson that any teacher education program should emphasize for their pre-service teachers—do not take the deficit approach. Nevertheless, it seemed like these teachers all assumed that the students lived in poverty, had nothing, and the parents were often standing in the way of progress (although they never offered any examples or evidence). Parents who were interested in their students’ learning were chastised for being too involved, while other parents who maybe worked multiple jobs or had other responsibilities like child or elder care were deemed indifferent to their children. There were assumptions running wild, and while it is natural to want to draw conclusions and make attributions about reasons for involvement or lack thereof, again, this seemed like a place where the administration should step in and offer suggestions and methods for involving more parents in a proactive way, whether it is through hosting parent/child activities, or finding ways for parents to be involved in the class (which there were). Regardless, I was shocked to read about how much the teachers assumed the students were in trauma, and that this trauma was the main reason why students were not succeeding or achieving. Mr. B, the 6th grade teacher, seemed to be a self-appointed trauma expert (he wrote his thesis on student trauma), and based on Ray’s observations, appeared to lower expectations for students due to their collective trauma. Furthermore, the principal also acknowledged students’ trauma and how it influenced their learning. This led to both a humorous and terrifying assembly in 6th grade where I didn’t know whether to laugh or cringe at the message and assumptions that kids are bad whose friends will eventually lead them to destruction. Yet all of the teachers seemed amazed at the message.
As Ray notes, this is not an easy book to read mainly because it challenges our own assumptions and cherished beliefs about teachers and the work they do. While I’ve known some teachers who engage in this kind of slow violence, thankfully, I’ve known and worked in schools that tend to be more supportive of both their students and teachers. That’s not to say that this kind of slow violence doesn’t happen. I agree with Ray’s conclusions about the need to diversify the teaching corps and prevent the kind of slow violence she witnessed. No student should experience that kind of bias and incongruity in their learning. However, I couldn’t help but question some of the conclusions about the teachers’ own motivations in this book, especially since Ray drew these conclusions based on observations and overheard conversations and not necessarily based on interviews with the teachers or asking about their methods or instruction. Furthermore, it didn’t seem like she interviewed students to ask about their own experiences with learning or school either. I wonder if she may have reached some different conclusions about her observations if these data were included in the analysis. In her “Afterword”, Ray notes that there is a difference between schooling and education. This distinction reminded me of Ewing’s book in particular in that schools in the 20th century were often sites of assimilation and control, a means to shape, condition, and train future workers for the kind of manual labor that was needed in the early 20th century. As society and the economy began to change, other’s views and philosophies about school also shifted, with some viewing education as the potential for a social equalizer. Although we are still a long way off from making this aspiration a reality, it’s still possible to support this idea and reinforce it with pre- and in-service teachers. While reform has taken education down some wrong paths, I agree with Ray’s idea that we need to “insist on a more honest conversation about the stark power differential between teachers and students”, and especially those “power relations that oppress Black, brown immigrant and trans people coincide with this fact that teachers have absolute authority inside the classroom and students…have close to none.” While it may not completely address the entirety of this situation, providing more student-centered approaches to learning that also engage students in positions of leadership and responsibility within the classroom are a way to start. Ensuring that teacher education programs, whether they are for undergraduates or alternate route candidates, stress these kinds of democratic approaches to education and acknowledge these power differentials is a good place to start. Furthermore, ensuring that teachers are supported and have regular observations and quality professional development that focuses on culturally congruent teaching strategies and methods is another way to support teachers in supporting their students. While this is challenging and at times disturbing book, it is a necessary and important read, especially for educators, but also for the general public. As Ray explains in both her introduction and afterword, there are attacks against teachers from both the right and the left today. We frequently hear stories about teachers who engage in inappropriate lessons about slavery or immigration, often bringing harm to students. When I was in college studying to be a teacher, I remember watching the “Blue Eye/Brown Eye” experiment as a method to teach about discrimination, but also questioning what kind of harm this brought to students, some of whom attacked and harassed their classmates. Although there were good intentions to teach about discrimination from an experiential perspective, it brought harm to the students. Teachers should also be more aware of their methods and think more about what their students will learn from these activities and assignments, to fully consider the implications and consequences of their lessons. Being a reflective practitioner should be a prerequisite for teaching, and schools need to do more to reinforce this essential aspect of teaching. Nevertheless, Ray’s book challenged my assumptions and made me think and reflect about my own experiences as both a learner and a teacher. I recommend this book even though it is a challenging, difficult, and at times upsetting read.

Pre-Read Notes:

Racism is alive and well in the US and sometimes the worst perpetrators aren't even individuals, but institutions, like education, medicine, and the voter system. These books are always worth a read, to see the data collected, organized, and made meaningful.

"Not everything is lost. Teachers have agency. When teachers like Mr. B. spoke to children without making examples of them in public view of their peers, without shaming them for what language their families spoke or where they lived, by treating them as human beings with flaws and strengths, and giving them a little leeway for being children, it clearly made a difference. Though, I wondered whether teachers and school officials like Mr. B. and Ms. White— who didn’t erode the children’s spirits but still trusted the same demeaning rhetoric, like all their students came from traumatized families and were traumatized themselves— could harm the children." p273

Final Review

(thoughts & recs) This was a hard book for me to read, because it's brilliant, and achieves this while being about a heart-breaking subject. Ranita Ray directly addresses teachers and administrators' abusive, and maybe worse, thoughtless, behavior toward vulnerable students--Black, brown, and disabled students--that she herself witness while collecting her data. These are teachers who consider themselves good at their jobs and caring of their students, who spend their own money to supply their classrooms, and yet they were also capable of choosing their own convenience over the emotional health of their students, again and again.

Honestly, I hope educators of all stripes pick up this book. It can make a difference.

I recommend SLOW VIOLENCE to fans of expositional nonfiction, social science, and books about social justice.

My 3 Favorite Things:

✔️ "Jahmir had been assessed and scored high. 54 This test, from what I gathered, wasn’t a regular intervention but depended on funding the school district and school received. Teachers and staff at Ribbon sometimes commonly referred to the questionnaire as the “trauma scale” and the teachers thought themselves heavily trained in “trauma management.”" p46 Teachers are not "heavily trained in trauma management". I mean, I'm a daily driver of cars, but that doesn't make me a car mechanic, a design engineer, or a race car driver.

✔️ This book is incredibly well-reaearched, but the pace is a slog because it's dry. I think the author chose to write in this still voice because her subject is emotionally draining -- the harm minority children experience in schools horrifies me.

✔️ This book really fights for these kids, but I resent the suggestion that trauma dehumanizes people. Trauma is so common as to be universally human. I think she meant to suggest that stigma dehumanizes the children the teachers *are diagnosing themselves*, obviously incorrectly. Ray is an extremely good researcher and writer and I wish she had been more careful with her language here.

✔️ "I had watched lively, fun-loving children like Reggie, Jada, and Nazli become dispirited. Destroyed. Even today, as I think of Sophia’s pants going dark with urine when I close my eyes, I flinch. I can feel Andrés’s humiliation and the way his love for Kaepernick was shattered. I shudder when I think of the sock hitting Miguel." Every teacher and school administrator needs to read this book with an open heart.

Notes:

1. Content warnings - racism, institutional racism, ableism, institutional ableism, school shootings (mention), public shootings, shame, humiliation, public and group punishment, trauma, PTSD, mental illness, CPS, armchair diagnosis, emotionally immature teachers, grief, death of a child, death of an infant,

Thank you to the author Ranita Ray, St. Martin's Press, and NetGalley for an accessible digital arc of SLOW VIOLENCE. All views are mine.

It’s always a joy to read the work of scholars who are deeply committed to understanding human nature—especially those who strive for meaningful change. Change doesn’t come easily; it requires acknowledging hard truths, sitting with discomfort, studying the issues in depth, and then courageously sharing the findings. In this book, the author examines the concept of slow violence as it manifests in elementary and middle school environments.

She doesn’t just theorize from a distance—she sits in classrooms, observes interactions between students, teachers, staff, and administrators, and enriches her findings with supporting research. I hadn’t encountered the term slow violence before reading this, but when I saw it, I took a guess: perhaps it referred to the gradual physical, mental, and emotional toll on children. And I wasn’t far off.

Slow violence, as explored here, reveals itself in the way children are spoken to, how they’re perceived by peers and adults, and the burdens they carry from difficult home environments into their school lives. These long-term, often overlooked harms can have immediate and lasting effects on a child’s academic performance and overall development.

As I read the firsthand accounts of daily life in these classrooms, I was struck not only by the challenges students face, but also by the emotional weight teachers carry into their workspaces. It’s clear that our school systems must be re-evaluated if we hope to serve both children and educators more justly.

This research is vital. It deserves to be revisited again and again to keep these urgent issues front and center—in our minds and in our hearts. If you care about children, teachers, and the state of education in the U.S., this book belongs on your shelf—and it should be read often, not just owned.

"Slow Violence" is a timely read. Trump's dismantling of the Department of Education exposed many of the flaws in a beaurocratic and bloated public education system. Ranita Ray, a researcher, spent time in Las Vegas public school classrooms. The particular school was in a lower income neighborhood.
The air conditioner was regularly out, the teachers were overworked, and the administration was largely absent. Nothing too new here.
What I found most compelling is the harm overworked and undermotivated teachers can do to children. The author observes classrooms and reveals issues of specific teachers and students. The focus is dynamic and draws in the reader. The reader becomes privy to person information and even llunchtime talk (which, as a former teacher, I know usually gravitates to the negative). .There is hope, though.. Teachers step in and help a particular student.
The scary thing is how dependent marginalized students are on the individual bias, emotional health, and skills of their teachers. There are no "throw-away" children. However, budget constraints, teacher burnout and bias, along with socio-economic and family issues can damage a child's growth and potential - painful and lasting damage.
I recommend this book to anyone interested in the state of our public schools. It is an important look at both hardworking teachers and powerless children facing obstacles both at school and at home.

6/10

“Slow Violence” is about the US public education system, particularly as it relates to lower income children of color. The general premise is that the racism and bias within the school system slowly demeans children and destroys the belief in themselves and their opportunities to succeed in life.

The author, a sociologist who sat in classrooms to follow a group of students from 4th to 6th grade, is a woman of color. The study took place in two schools from 2017 to early 2020.

This is a really compelling read if you’re interested in the education system.

My mother was a teacher, my wife was a teacher and is now a school administrator. I agree that there is racism and sexism and other -isms in the education system with some teachers.

I don’t agree that it’s every teacher.
Though the author gave data that supports her premise (eg the prevalence of white teachers in non-white schools), it is tough to make the leap from stories of one school to a critique of the entire public school system.

Without spoiling anything, the end of the book (the afterword) took a surprising turn. The author brought up a compelling premise that wasn’t mentioned anywhere else in the book. I wish it was.

Regardless, it’s a worthwhile read, especially for teachers and administrators.

#netgalley #slowviolence

Slow Violence by Ranita Ray is a searing and necessary exposé that shines a powerful light on the everyday harm inflicted on marginalized children within the American public school system. Through immersive ethnographic research in a Las Vegas elementary school, Ray uncovers not just the systemic neglect we’ve come to expect, but the more insidious “slow violence” enacted through microaggressions, harmful stereotypes, and emotional mistreatment by educators themselves. The stories of students like Nazli, Reggie, Nalin, and Miguel bring painful clarity to how well-intentioned institutions often fail—and even damage—the very children they claim to serve.
Awarding this book four stars, Slow Violence is an urgent and emotionally resonant work that challenges dominant narratives around education reform. Ray’s compassionate yet unflinching analysis provides a fresh, human-centered lens on systemic injustice, pushing the conversation beyond test scores and funding toward the lived realities of students. While the book’s intensity and academic framing may feel dense at times, its insights are vital. It’s a sobering call to educators, policymakers, and the public: true reform must begin with how we see and treat our most vulnerable learners inside the classroom.

This book is a must read for anyone working in education. The author writes in an easy to read style that draws you in. It makes it easy to read and process quickly. On the other hand this book can take awhile to read because the stories are so painful. This book is basically a case study that follows several students through 4-6th grade. The author shows the damage even well meaning teachers can do when they fall into the trap of racist and trauma tropes. If this book makes you uncomfortable or defensive then you need to read it.
Thank you to Netgalley and the author for an ARC in exchange for my honest review.

Unmasking the Silent Erosion: A Review of Ranita Ray's "Slow Violence"
Ranita Ray's "Slow Violence" is a searing and essential exposé of a deeply troubling reality within the American public education system. Moving beyond familiar discussions of funding and achievement gaps, Ray shines a harsh light on the insidious "slow violence" – the routine indifference, racism, and emotional abuse – that insidiously corrodes the learning and well-being of marginalized children. This is not just a book about broken systems; it's a visceral account of the human cost of those failures, told through the heartbreaking experiences of individual students.

Ray's immersive research in a majority-minority fourth-grade classroom in Las Vegas provides a powerful and unsettling foundation for her analysis. What began as an investigation into resource scarcity evolved into a profound recognition of a more pervasive and damaging force: the subtle yet devastating ways in which the very adults entrusted with care can become agents of harm. Through vivid and poignant narratives, Ray introduces us to children like Nazli, Reggie, Nalin, and Miguel, whose bright potential is systematically undermined by the prejudices and thoughtless actions of educators.

Nazli, grappling with profound grief, is met with a callous demand for "grit" instead of empathy. Reggie, a curious student, is unjustly labeled a predator, his future trajectory irrevocably altered by a snap judgment. Nalin, a recent immigrant, is reduced to a harmful stereotype, her individual strengths and struggles rendered invisible. And Miguel, a bright but restless boy, is misdiagnosed and misunderstood, his true needs ignored. These are not isolated incidents, Ray argues, but symptoms of a systemic indifference that disproportionately impacts vulnerable students.

What sets "Slow Violence" apart is Ray's ability to connect these individual stories to broader systemic issues. Bolstered by rigorous social science research and infused with an empathetic and passionate voice, she articulates how these daily microaggressions and acts of neglect accumulate, slowly eroding a child's sense of self-worth, their trust in authority, and their potential for academic and personal growth. Ray compellingly argues that this "slow violence" is a significant, yet often overlooked, contributor to the very inequalities the education system purports to address.

Drawing parallels to character-driven narratives like "Invisible Child," Ray masterfully centers the lived experiences of these children, forcing readers to confront the human impact of systemic failures. She moves beyond abstract statistics and policy debates to reveal the emotional and psychological toll exacted on young minds within the very spaces meant to nurture them. "Slow Violence" is a necessary intervention in the conversation about education reform, urging us to look beyond surface-level solutions and confront the deeply ingrained biases and practices that create hostile environments for marginalized students.

Ultimately, "Slow Violence" is a call to action. Ray makes a powerful case that genuine educational reform must begin with a fundamental shift in how we understand and value the experiences of children in the classroom. By unflinchingly exposing the "slow violence" that pervades our schools, Ranita Ray provides a crucial starting point for forging new approaches that truly foster the well-being and flourishing of all young learners. This is a vital and urgent book that demands to be read by educators, policymakers, parents, and anyone concerned with the future of our children and the promise of equitable education.

In Slow Violence, sociologist Ranita Ray sheds light on the systemic neglect and everyday harm faced by students in underfunded, minority-majority school districts. What begins as a study on budget cuts and resource deprivation in public schools soon becomes a deeply personal, on-the-ground account of the students themselves.

Ray follows a group of fourth graders at Ribbon Elementary in Las Vegas, tracking their journey through the school system until COVID-19 abruptly ends the study in sixth grade. Instead of focusing purely on policies and data, Ray brings us face-to-face with the lived experiences of these children, exposing the verbal abuse, neglect, and racial bias that shape their educational environment.

She describes this phenomenon as "slow violence"—not a single, catastrophic event, but a daily erosion of student potential, a chipping away of their confidence and aspirations through poor teaching methods, rigid school structures, and a system that sets them up to fail. In the classrooms, she witnesses racism in action, demoralizing discipline tactics, and a sense of resignation among both students and teachers.

At its core, this is capitalism at work—where public education functions less as an institution for learning and more as a way to manage and sort labor for a future workforce. Schools in wealthier districts operate like launchpads, while schools like Ribbon Elementary are left to scrape by, expected to “do more with less” in a never-ending cycle of budget cuts and policy failures. Ray’s work exposes not just the failures of individual schools, but the broader issue of how we run education in a society that prioritizes profit over people.

While the book is disturbing and powerful, it feels unfinished—both because COVID-19 cuts the research short and because it lacks a strong discussion of solutions. The stories Ray tells are compelling, but what happened to the students and teachers after the study ended? How can we fix the system that so thoroughly failed them? Without these answers, Slow Violence remains an important but frustratingly incomplete account of educational inequity.

A necessary but hard read, Slow Violence is a stark reminder of the harsh realities faced by students in underfunded schools. It exposes the problems with unflinching honesty but leaves readers wanting more—more resolution, more follow-up, and more pathways to change.

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