Adultification Bias: School Punished My Black Daughter for Defending Herself

By Ruth Jones, for Six Brown Chicks

This happened in Jacksonville, Florida, because, of course it did. Our neighborhood, (middle-class), is 94 percent white. I worked hard to get here, in a blue-ribbon, public school district to give my daughter the best education I could.

I had a choice, stay with near my mom in a terrible neighborhood with a crime-ridden school, or work two full-time jobs to bring my Nyomi here. I thought I did the right thing but I was wrong.

My Nyomi is 12. Short for her age, but with flawless chocolate skin. Straight A’s since kindergarten, involved in the school band, always helping her classmates. Nyomi got long box braids with strands of pink on the ends for her birthday then all hell broke loose.

These two white girls started picking on her, calling her names like “charcoal” and “midnight,” mocking her for her dark skin. It wasn’t just words; it escalated to pushing and shoving in the hallway. Nyomi tried to ignore it, but as her momma, I could see the hurt in her eyes every day she came home.

Then came the day that broke me. Nyomi was in the school bathroom during lunch, minding her business, when those same two girls cornered her. They jumped her—punching, scratching, pulling her braids out. My baby fought back to defend herself, because what else was she supposed to do? Stand there and take it?

The school staff broke it up, and next thing I know, all three girls are suspended for fighting. But here’s where the injustice really stings: those two white girls got a slap on the wrist—a measly 3-day suspension. My Nyomi? Nine whole days out of school.

Why the difference? Because after the fight, when the principal was questioning them, Nyomi wouldn’t stay silent. She spoke up, explaining how she’d been bullied for weeks, how it was about her skin color, how she was the victim. But the principal told her to “shut up” and stop “talking back.” Talking back? That’s code for a Black girl daring to have a voice in a room where she’s already been silenced.

I sat in that principal’s office, fuming, demanding answers. “Why is my child being punished more severely when she was the one attacked?” I asked. They mumbled something about school policy on “disruption” and “defiance.” Defiance? For standing up for herself? Meanwhile, the bullies who started it all get to come back quicker, like nothing happened.

[This isn’t just bad luck; this is the ugly truth about how schools in places like Jacksonville—and honestly, across America—discipline Black girls harsher, says Dr. Carletha Hughes, pediatrician and author of Baddies: The Viral War Destroying Black Girls. “Studies show it, statistics prove it: Black students, especially girls, get suspended at rates way higher than their white peers for the same behaviors,” Dr. Hughes says. It’s like they’re seen as threats just for existing, for being “too loud” or “too sassy” when all they’re doing is surviving.”

Dr. Hughes advises parents to take notes on all encounters, gather the facts about the incident, reasearch the school’s policy handbook and request a formal hearing with the school board on the matter. “Fight for your child; this is an act of love.” ]

Nyomi’s grades have slipped. Heartbreaking. Before this mess, she was thriving—top of her class, excited about learning. Now? Her grades have slipped to Cs.

She’s withdrawn, doesn’t want to go back to school, and I catch her staring at herself in the mirror, questioning her own beauty because of what those girls said. The suspension kept her out longer, making her miss key lessons, and the emotional weight of it all has her struggling to focus.

As her momma, I’m doing everything—tutoring, therapy sessions, affirming her every day that her dark skin is a gift, not a curse. But how do you heal a child when the very institution meant to educate her is complicit in breaking her spirit?

Update: Ignored and Infuriated!

After pouring my soul into that principal’s office and getting nowhere, I took it higher— I filed a formal complaint, detailed every bit of the bullying, the racial bias in the suspensions, and how my Nyomi’s been suffering. I was told that the school acted within its right to suspend my child 3x longer than her bullies, and ‘if you feel you need legal representation you should do so.’ The board member added, ‘Her suspension is over so what you’re doing here is just another distraction from Nyomi’s education.’

I withdrew Nyomi from that school, got an apartment near my mom, and enrolled her in the other school. Guess what? Nyomi is thriving. She has new friends. My happy daughter is back.

I’m sorry if I let you down by not suing the school board, I wanted to, but my daughter’s mental health—and mine—wasn’t getting any better. Leaving was the best option. I realized a blue ribbon school district doesn’t mean sh!t if the students and administrators are actively harming your child.

Sometimes, the best option is to walk away.

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