It’s been labeled “persistently struggling,” “out-of-time,” a “Renewal” and now a “Rise” school.

But to teachers, JHS 80 in the Bronx is an educational hellhole.

Despite receiving millions in extra dollars and services, the 655-student Norwood school suffers from out-of-control students, filthy, unsafe conditions and thuggish administrators who try to keep the horrors under wraps, insiders have told authorities.

When the city Department of Education recently announced it would close or merge 14 low-performing schools in its “Renewal Program,” which has spent $582 million in three years, JHS 80 escaped the ax. Instead, the DOE named it one of 21 “Rise” schools that have improved enough to leave the Renewal program in June. Yet only 20 percent of JHS 80 students passed the state English exams and 15 percent passed math last year — both well below the citywide average.

Beleaguered staffers cite a litany of woes under principal Emmanuel Polanco that belie the DOE’s claims of success:

Violence and fighting are rampant; unqualified cronies — including a paraprofessional who has acted as a dean — serve in key positions; disruptive students face few consequences; textbooks have been replaced by laptops, which allow students to e-mail each other, play Minecraft, and view sex sites during class; and mold, rusty pipes, peeling paint and grime abound in the rat-infested building.

“It’s an ugly school,” said a parent, Leslie Cruz, whose daughter told The Post she was assaulted in an altercation with Polanco.

In what teachers call a cover-up, Miguel Benitez, a teacher Polanco named dean last month, warned the faculty about posting reports of student misconduct and disturbances on Skedula, a DOE online system.

The reports are read not only by the principal, but “the chancellor’s office” and superintendent, Benitez said at a staff meeting which a teacher videotaped and shared with The Post.

The higher-ups will “come after” the school’s management, and question teachers’ performance, with reason to say “gotcha,” Benitez warned.

Writing his cellphone number on a board, he said, “Please do me a favor, before you write anything online, let me know.”

Benitez, reached on his phone, angrily denied making the statements.

“That’s a lie,” he said.

The worst incidents include a horrific attack and alleged cover-up.

The DOE says it is investigating a November incident in which two eighth-grade boys allegedly lifted a sixth-grader by his arms and legs, and dropped him on his head, causing him to pass out and convulse.

A staff member told the FBI and the DOE that administrators delayed calling an ambulance, then forced the eighth-graders and a teacher who witnessed the cruelty to give statements calling it an accident.

“They lied to the parents,” the distraught staffer told an FBI hotline. “Someone’s child is going to die if nothing is done.”

Kids have cut themselves and others — during class, source said.

“Look, I’m bleeding,” a girl told her stunned teacher in February, showing a cut with blood running down her hand, a report says. She and other students said a boy had slashed her with a pencil-sharpener blade.

Teachers are routinely cursed and assaulted. During a science class in November, a paraprofessional was helping a special-needs student when a classmate picked up a plastic tweezer, and pinched her nipple, a staffer reported. The students also threatened to pinch the aide’s butt.

And discipline is often mishandled.

Polanco appointed his close friend, teacher’s aide John “Chucky” Perez, to act as a dean for nearly three years. Deans must be certified teachers, preferably with guidance expertise.

Last year, Polanco, an underling and a security guard “slammed” then-seventh-grader Hailey Lopez, who is Cruz’s daughter, on the ground, she and her mother claim.

A teacher who witnessed the brawl reported it to DOE investigators.

Lopez told The Post she was waiting for her mother after school when they brutally wrestled her to take her cellphone from her purse. Polanco has banned cellphones, and staffers constantly seize them.

“[They] threw me on the ground,” she said. “I was crying the whole time.”

Cruz said when she threatened to sue, the school said Hailey had to repeat the seventh grade. The family refused, and Hailey spent a month in a holding room for misbehaving kids.

“They wanted to cover it up. That’s how bad it was,” Cruz fumed. The DOE said, “We are looking into it.”

JHS 80 students get no textbooks. They stare at laptops from 8 a.m. to 3:40 p.m. each day. Glitches and crashes often occur because the building is not properly equipped for technology, staffers say.

Teachers try to police the screens, catching kids who use Google Chat, listen to music, play games, download photos of scantily clad women, and look up answers on the Internet.

Classrooms can get so noisy and unruly it drowns out teachers’ voices, said seventh-grader Adriana Alvarez.

“It’s hard for some of the teachers to project their voices when the microphone doesn’t work,” she said. “It’s not easy for [learning] to happen.”

In winter, steam-spewing classroom heaters are surrounded by electric wires plugged into extension cords. After hours last February, teachers were surprised when workers showed up for asbestos repairs, saying staff and parents were never notified.

The school’s $11.2 million budget has been padded for three years with Renewal funds. Last year alone, it received an extra $763,690, the Independent Budget Office said. The DOE has also paid ex-Superintendent Sandy Kase $1,400 a day as a “leadership coach” at JHS 80.

In addition, the DOE awarded a $1.2 million, two-year contract to Aspira of New York to provide mental-health services, plus academic and arts programs. Raki Barlow, a former Aspira director, told The Post that Polanco wanted the group to spend nearly all the money on a certain vendor, and had Aspira abruptly dismissed Dec. 31. The DOE said another community group took over.

Several teachers have begged for help from union, city, state and federal officials, calling Polanco — who starred in a seedy 2014 rap video as “El Siki” — a bully who boasts of friendship with Chancellor Carmen Fariña and instills fear in his faculty.

“President Trump, you seem to be my last hope,” a desperate staffer wrote to the White House, which replied that it was unable to intervene.