My childhood school in Milford Haven hit the headlines yesterday after an alleged assault involving a 15-year-old pupil and a teacher. Most public reactions jump straight to political blame game, decrying the lack of discipline in schools, criticising authorities for not giving teachers the power to abuse students, rather than genuine concern or curiosity about what really happened (I’m no fan of authority, still). One commentator called out the ‘numpties who sit at the back of the class’ as most in need of ‘discipline’. I sat there myself, largely to avoid such narrow thinking. Only one commentator suggested more investment in mental health support for pupils and teachers alike. It shocked me.

Some claim a knife, others a non-specified brandished weapon. Most state attempted murder. One outlet claims the teacher has left the hospital already. And while details remain sketchy, knee-jerk reactions will prevail, too many rushing to judgment or assumptions about who is at fault. Underlying issues like bullying, abuse, or unaddressed trauma can drive desperate actions, and these deserve careful investigation.

What prompts a teenager to allegedly attack a teacher? I left that school with a profound dislike for many of the teachers—not all. I swallowed most of the bitterness or exorcised demons through writing about my experiences. Having witnessed first hand the sadistic pleasure some teachers took from corporal punishment, it’s easy to see why students break. It’s absolute desperation or severe mental breakdown that drives people to act.

I became a teacher out of circumstance, but I fell in love with the profession. My time as a student at Milford Haven school formed my function: I would endeavour to be better than my teachers. And in nearly two decades of teaching, half of that time with teenagers, I never once had an issue with discipline— frustration yes, but if you have to discipline a child, you’re not doing your job. Something in the dynamic is wrong. My classroom functioned on mutual communication, self-discipline, and healthy, animated respect for students. Respect fosters respect.

Mother taught, too—decades of service. Mount Estate was a tough gig. Every town has one. But behind the headlines are hard-working families doing their best to dig themselves and their community out, day by day. Unruly toddlers, some with violent dispositions. I went there, too. But it wasn’t kids that broke my mother. The system did. Systems piling extra workloads on teachers, little support, no extra pay or incentives.

Until I see facts, I’ll hold judgement, but one issue is certain, the student in question needs help, not demonisation. Stop blaming individuals and start questioning the systems that keep letting kids—and teachers—fall through the cracks.