Seclusion Rooms in Minnesota

Minnesota, It Is Time to End the Use of Seclusion, Not Increase It


Minnesota’s Seclusion Working Group had an opportunity to move the state toward ending the involuntary seclusion of children in schools, and missed it. Instead of aligning Minnesota law with federal civil rights guidance and the lived experiences of students and families, the Seclusion Working Group Final Report to the Legislature preserves seclusion as a tool, embeds it more deeply within special education processes, and delays meaningful change by another decade. This would be regression, not progress.

What Seclusion Really Is

Under Minnesota law, “seclusion” means confining a child alone in a room from which egress is barred, typically by an adult locking or closing the door or physically preventing the child from leaving. This does not include removing a child from an activity to a location where the child cannot participate in or observe the activity. This definition is narrower than federal civil rights guidance, which focuses on whether the student is involuntarily confined and not free to leave, regardless of whether an adult is present or the door is physically locked.

Photo courtesy of Mid-Minnesota Legal Aid

The Minnesota Disability Law Center (MDLC) suggests the United States Department of Justice (DOJ) definition in its report, Children In Confinement: Seclusion in Schools, emphasizing that seclusion is “the involuntary confinement of a student alone in any room or area” where the student is alone and not free to leave or believes they are not free to leave. DOJ guidance makes clear that seclusion can occur in a variety of spaces, including padded rooms, utility closets, areas blocked off with gym mats, or empty offices, if the student is alone and barred from leaving.

Federal Civil Rights Data Collection (CRDC) guidance similarly defines seclusion as the involuntary confinement of a student in a room or area, with or without adult supervision, from which the student is not permitted to leave. Students who believe or are told by a school staff member that they are not able to leave a room or area should be considered secluded. Minnesota’s law includes “barred egress” and references a room and doors in its definition. The current Minnesota definition is therefore out of step with federal standards and risks undercounting and minimizing the true scope of seclusion by focusing on rooms, doors, and staff behavior rather than the child’s forced isolation. 

In practice, seclusion is involuntary confinement or solitary confinement, and getting a child into a seclusion space almost always begins with some form of physical restraint. You do not “invite” a child into a locked room; you force them there. Children are often transported by multiple adults, held, carried, or dragged, and then prevented from leaving the room or area. Once inside the seclusion space, the child may continue to be physically restrained or pinned away from the door if they attempt to escape. MDLC’s monitoring indicates that seclusion rooms in Minnesota schools are generally small, closet-like spaces, often with cinder block or padded walls, concrete or tile floors, drains for handling bodily fluids, and bare, beige surfaces. These are not therapeutic environments; they are purpose‑built containment cells.

Photo courtesy of Mid-Minnesota Legal Aid

The physiological and psychological responses are predictable. Children in seclusion frequently scream, beat on the walls or door, call for loved ones, and sometimes bang their heads or bodies against the walls. Children sometimes urinate, defecate, or vomit while secluded, a sign of extreme stress and loss of bodily control, not an “intentional strategy” to manipulate staff to let them free. After prolonged confinement of 15, 20, or 25 minutes or more, adults may look through the observation window and conclude that a child has “calmed down” because the child’s body appears limp, their head is down, or the child is quiet. This is not calm; it is a shutdown response, a collapse into immobilization that is characteristic of overwhelming fear and helplessness.

Some students experience dissociation. Some lose track of time, surroundings, or even their own bodies while locked in these rooms. Federal data shows that seclusion is overwhelmingly used on young children with disabilities and more often on Black and brown students. In the data we have examined, we find that autistic students (including nonspeaking autistic students), those with emotional or behavioral labels, and students in more restrictive settings are much more likely to be forced into seclusion cells. This pattern is consistent with DOJ findings that seclusion and restraint practices discriminate on the basis of disability and deny students equal opportunities to participate in or benefit from education.

Seclusion is not a therapeutic intervention; it is solitary confinement for children in school buildings. It should have no place in a system that claims to be trauma‑informed or neurodiversity‑affirming.

Emergency Use and “Imminent, Serious Physical Harm”

Minnesota law permits seclusion only in an “emergency,” defined as a situation requiring immediate intervention to protect a child or another individual from physical injury. Importantly, the statute clarifies that an “emergency” does not include a child who fails to respond to a task, hides under a desk, or refuses a direction unless failing to respond would itself result in physical injury.

Federal guidance and many state laws go much further, stating that seclusion should be used only when a child’s behavior poses an imminent danger of serious physical harm to self or others, when other interventions are ineffective, and that it must be discontinued as soon as the imminent danger has dissipated. “Imminent, serious physical harm” mirrors the definition of “serious bodily injury” in the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA), which means:

  • A substantial risk of death;
  • Extreme physical pain;
  • Protracted and obvious disfigurement; or
  • Protracted loss or impairment of the function of a bodily member, organ, or mental faculty.

When we apply this standard honestly, almost all of what is currently labeled “emergency use” in Minnesota schools would not qualify. MDLC’s Legal Aid report shows that seclusion usually lasts between 30 seconds and three hours and is frequently used in Level 3 and Level 4 settings on children whose underlying needs are sensory, communicative, or trauma-related rather than truly life‑threatening to themselves or others. MDLC also documents that many registered seclusion rooms are cluttered with furniture, toilets, or mattresses that must be hurriedly removed before a child is locked inside, raising serious doubts about whether the situation met any genuine definition of “immediate intervention.”

The Seclusion Working Group’s own report acknowledges that while reported seclusions have decreased as the 2023 ban took effect, physical holds have increased dramatically from 13,289 in 2021‑22 to 19,097 in 2024‑25. Staff injuries during physical holds have likewise increased, whereas injuries during seclusion have declined. This dynamic suggests that seclusion is part of a broader crisis-management system that relies heavily on coercive, force‑based responses rather than prevention, supports, and true last‑resort standards tied to imminent serious harm. We have also seen other states, such as Maryland, completely eliminate seclusion and simultaneously reduce physical restraint use and referrals to law enforcement. It is possible. 

If we take the federal “serious bodily injury” definition seriously, most Minnesota seclusion incidents should never have occurred. Instead of tightening standards to match federal guidance, the Working Group chose a path that keeps seclusion available and normalizes it through IEP processes. This is a mistake that will lead to trauma and harm for our most vulnerable children in Minnesota. 

Misunderstanding, and the Pain of Acknowledging Harm

The Working Group heard testimony from parents on both sides of the issue: those whose children were deeply harmed by seclusion and those who believe seclusion benefited their child or prevented law‑enforcement involvement. One former student described seclusion as “a four-by-four room with a thousand-pound magnet door” that felt “claustrophobic” and “horrible.” A parent recounted a child who tried to strangle himself with a window-blind cord in a seclusion room and vomited all day from terror, leading to long‑term distrust of school.

Photo courtesy of Mid-Minnesota Legal Aid

Other parents, including some whose views are closely aligned with Minnesota Senator Judy Seeberger, testified that seclusion “successfully addresses” dysregulated behavior, prevents police involvement, and serves as a crucial tool in their child’s IEP. Senator Seeberger’s legislative efforts have sought to expand the use of seclusion under specified conditions rather than to prohibit it.

It is important, especially for families, to distinguish between seclusion and supportive spaces. Seclusion is forced isolation, where a child is prevented from leaving or believes they are not free to leave. Seclusion is not a voluntary break in which a student chooses to step away to a quiet space, with the understanding that they can exit when ready. Seclusion is not a true sensory room, as MDLC documents. A sensory room is a larger, colorful space, often with soft lighting, sensory tools, and adult support, where students can typically come and go with staff while maintaining autonomy.

MDLC’s report notes that every school with seclusion rooms also had separate true calming rooms and that some districts confusingly label seclusion rooms as “calming rooms” despite their design and use as locked spaces. This conflation perpetuates the misconception that seclusion is merely a “quiet room” or “time away” for self-regulation.

Photo courtesy of Mid-Minnesota Legal Aid

For parents who have been told that seclusion kept their child and others safe, or who saw short‑term reductions in aggressive behavior, confronting the reality of seclusion’s harm can be emotionally excruciating. Acknowledging that your child was locked alone for extended periods, panicking, crying for you, urinating or vomiting in fear, or slipping into shutdown or dissociation is not just an intellectual exercise; it can be a profound psychosocial injury. Parents may understandably cling to narratives that frame seclusion as necessary, even beneficial, to avoid the unbearable pain of realizing their child was subjected to solitary confinement in their school.

Systems often reinforce this defense. Staff and administrators may describe seclusion as a “safe room,” emphasize its protective intent, and downplay the child’s subjective experience. The Working Group’s Final Report echoes this narrative by emphasizing “complexity” and “nuance” rather than clearly identifying seclusion as a harmful, non‑therapeutic practice that can be abusive. When professionals and policymakers signal that seclusion is a legitimate tool, parents are more likely to interpret their discomfort as an overreaction.

We can hold compassion for parents in this position while still being clear: seclusion is not a quiet room; it is not a co‑regulation space; it is not a therapeutic break. It is forced isolation behind a door (or other boundary) that a child cannot leave, often preceded by physical restraint and accompanied by profound fear and stress. The fact that some children say they “prefer” seclusion over holds or police involvement does not make seclusion acceptable; it simply underscores how few humane options the system has offered them.

Legal Aid Report vs. the Working Group

The Minnesota Disability Law Center’s Legal Aid report, “Children in Confinement: Seclusion in Schools,” offers a stark, evidence‑based picture of seclusion as it exists today. It documents:

  • 194 registered seclusion rooms in 100 school buildings across 50 districts in 2024‑25, with 40% of rooms located in just four districts.
  • Concentration of seclusion in Level 3 and Level 4 settings serving only children with disabilities.
  • Physical environments that resemble cells more than classrooms: small size, concrete or tile floors, drains, bare walls, observation windows, and sometimes damaged or mold‑stained surfaces.
  • Some “registered seclusion rooms” are used for storage or as independent workspaces; others are cluttered with furniture and objects that render emergency use implausible and noncompliant with the law.
  • There is no accurate public list of seclusion rooms; the state’s registry is incomplete and outdated, leaving families and communities in the dark.
  • Overall, the use of seclusion is decreasing, but extreme variability across similar settings: one Level 4 school with 35 seclusion rooms (one for every 2.8 students) and another nearby Level 4 school with no seclusion at all, highlighting that seclusion is a function of local culture, not student “need.”

Legal Aid also situates seclusion in a broader civil‑rights context. It notes federal investigations’ findings that seclusion and restraint discriminate against students with disabilities by denying equal educational opportunities and violating the ADA’s integration mandate and IDEA’s least restrictive environment requirement. The report identifies 11 states that have fully banned seclusion for all students and notes pending federal legislation, the Keeping All Students Safe Act, that would prohibit seclusion nationwide.

By contrast, the Seclusion Working Group’s Final Report is framed around “balance” and “nuance,” repeatedly emphasizing staff testimony that seclusion is an “important tool” and presenting parent voices in favor of seclusion alongside those opposed. The report:

  • Reiterates Minnesota’s narrow statutory definition and does not recommend aligning it with DOJ/CRDC definitions that emphasize the child’s freedom to leave.
  • Highlights declining seclusion counts but places substantial weight on districts and staff who defend seclusion as necessary for safety and argue that eliminating it could increase injuries or law‑enforcement involvement.
  • Frames many documented violations of statute as primarily “procedural”, for example, parent notification issues or IEP meeting delays, rather than as evidence that seclusion itself invites misuse and abuse.
  • Treats alternatives like Ukeru and seclusion‑free models (e.g., Minneapolis) as optional enhancements rather than as models for an outright ban.

Most concerning, the Working Group’s recommendations move seclusion deeper into the special education infrastructure instead of out of it. The final recommendations:

  • Require explicit parental consent and IEP team involvement to include seclusion in a child’s IEP or behavior plan, with the involvement of mental health professionals and an informed consent process.
  • Create a data‑driven accountability framework that triggers adoption of “alternatives” only when districts exceed thresholds, rather than requiring a systemic phaseout.
  • Support funding for alternatives and mental health services, but do not tie that funding to a firm timeline for ending seclusion.
  • Through the adopted “chair’s recommendations” and Minnesota Administrators for Special Education (MASE) proposals, allow continued use of seclusion for students in grades 1–12 in Level 3 and 4 settings until at least July 1, 2036, contingent on future appropriations and evaluations.

In other words, instead of embracing MDLC’s clear trajectory, reduced seclusion use, emerging seclusion‑free districts, strong civil‑rights concerns, and viable alternatives, the Working Group largely legitimizes seclusion as a specialized, IEP‑driven emergency option for another decade.

Seclusion Has No Place in an IEP

The Working Group relies heavily on the idea that seclusion can be safely managed by embedding it within the Individualized Education Program (IEP) process, which requires explicit consent, mental health participation, data review, and periodic reevaluation. While these guardrails could reduce some misuse, they fundamentally misrepresent the purpose of the IEP and the nature of seclusion.

Photo courtesy of Mid-Minnesota Legal Aid

An IEP is designed to provide specially designed instruction, supports, and services that enable a child with a disability to access a free appropriate public education in the least restrictive environment. It concerns individualized supports, accommodations, and educational programming, not crisis control or coercive containment.

Too often, the IEP “consent” the Working Group envisions is not a free, informed choice but the product of pressure and misinformation. Parents describe being reassured that seclusion rooms are therapeutic spaces or dignified supports, even as Legal Aid’s photographs and monitoring show them to be bare, concrete, or padded cells designed for containment rather than care. Families who raise concerns are frequently minimized or gaslighted, told they are overreacting, that their child is uniquely dangerous, or that, without agreeing to seclusion, their child cannot remain in a less restrictive placement and may have to move to a more segregated setting. Others are warned that if they withhold consent, staff may have “no choice” but to call law enforcement when their child becomes dysregulated, framing seclusion as the only alternative to police involvement instead of investing in real preventive upstream supports and de‑escalation. In this context, embedding seclusion in IEPs does not empower families; it entrenches an unequal power dynamic in which parents are steered toward accepting a harmful practice under the threat of worse consequences for their child.

Photo courtesy of Mid-Minnesota Legal Aid

Seclusion is an outdated crisis-management tactic intended for use when all other measures are perceived to have failed. It is not instruction, not support, and not a service; it is the temporary suspension of a child’s autonomy under extreme distress. When we write seclusion into an IEP, we risk:

  • Normalizing its use: Once seclusion is listed as an approved strategy, staff are more likely to view it as an acceptable response rather than a last resort to be avoided.
  • Increasing frequency: MDLC and parent advocates note that “once seclusion is first used, it’s like a dam is broken”; it becomes easier to use repeatedly, especially if the behavior is perceived as “noncompliant.”
  • Shifting blame: When seclusion is written into the IEP, repeated use can be framed as the child’s “needs” rather than a failure of the environment or of the supports provided.
  • Complicating advocacy: Families who later oppose seclusion may find that its inclusion in the IEP is used against them in disputes, as evidence that they once consented and that seclusion is therefore “appropriate.”

The Working Group’s recommendations acknowledge some of these risks by requiring mental health professionals to participate and mandating more frequent reviews when seclusion is used. But they do not step back to ask the more fundamental question: should a tool that looks like solitary confinement ever be memorialized in a document meant to guarantee a child’s right to education and inclusion?

The answer should be no. Seclusion is inherently incompatible with the spirit of IDEA’s least restrictive environment and the civil‑rights obligations enforced by DOJ and OCR. It belongs, if at all, in emergency protocols subject to external oversight and rapid elimination, not in the core plan that defines a child’s educational entitlement.

What the Working Group Got Right and Wrong

The Working Group did identify and endorse several important directions:

  • Expanded staff training on trauma, de‑escalation, and alternatives to seclusion.
  • Stronger data collection, including public reporting and correlation with outcomes like law‑enforcement involvement, injuries, placements, and suspensions.
  • Direct funding for alternatives (such as Ukeru), school‑linked mental health, related services, and multi‑tiered systems of support.
  • Recognition that misregistration, poor room conditions, and noncompliant seclusion environments are systemic problems requiring oversight.

These are meaningful steps and reflect substantial work by disability advocates and members, including MDLC’s representatives, who advocated vigorously to prevent rollbacks and to keep at least the current birth‑through‑grade‑3 ban intact.

However, these positives cannot outweigh the core failures:

  • The Working Group does not recommend aligning Minnesota’s definition of seclusion with DOJ/OCR guidance focusing on involuntary confinement and the student’s freedom to leave.
  • It endorses a framework that permits seclusion for grades 1–12 in Level 3 and 4 settings until at least 2036, rather than moving toward a comprehensive ban.
  • It embeds seclusion into IEP processes, risking normalization and increased usage under the banner of “team decisions” and “explicit consent.”
  • It treats seclusion as a tool to be refined and regulated rather than as a harmful practice to be phased out, despite clear evidence of trauma, disproportionality, and viable alternatives.

In short, the Final Report represents incrementalism in the face of a practice that should be categorically rejected for children in schools. It asks Minnesota’s most vulnerable students—children with disabilities, disproportionately Black and multiracial—to wait another decade for the basic guarantee that they will not be locked alone in a room at school.

Where Minnesota Should Go from Here

MDLC’s Legal Aid report provides a roadmap for a different path. Eleven states have already banned seclusion for all children in public schools, demonstrating that education systems can function, and children can be safe, without solitary confinement. Minneapolis Public Schools has operated without seclusion since 2011, relying instead on sensory rooms, mental health teams, and positive behavioral supports. Intermediate districts such as 287 have made clear, deliberate choices to operate seclusion‑free, even while serving students with significant support needs.

We believe Minnesota should:

  • Expand the current prohibition to a full, all‑grades ban. The existing ban on birth through grade 3 seclusion must not be weakened, rolled back, or carved out. Instead, it should be extended to all students, across all grades and settings, with a clear timeline short enough to matter to students in school today.
  • Align state definitions with federal guidance. Minnesota’s statute should adopt DOJ/OCR language that recognizes seclusion as involuntary confinement in any room or area where a student is not free to leave, or believes they are not free to leave, with or without adult supervision. This will prevent definitional loopholes and ensure accurate data. Including meeting the federal data reporting requirements.
  • Keep seclusion out of IEPs. IEPs should never list seclusion as a planned intervention. The law should explicitly prohibit the inclusion of seclusion as a service, support, or strategy in any IEP or IFSP.
  • Make a deep investment in alternatives and mental health. The Working Group’s own evidence on Ukeru, school‑linked mental health, and seclusion‑free districts shows what is possible when we invest in staff training, sensory environments, co‑regulation, and relational safety. These investments should be direct, sustained, and tied to a clear seclusion‑ban timeline.
  • Strengthen accountability and transparency. Families and communities deserve to know where seclusion rooms are located and how frequently they are used. If seclusion is not fully banned, the Minnesota Report Card should include seclusion data for each district and school, disaggregated by demographic characteristics, and correlations with injuries, law‑enforcement involvement, and placement changes.
  • Center the voices of those most harmed. The stories collected by MDLC, Solutions Not Suspensions, and the Multicultural Autism Action Network, students who describe seclusion as “stifling” and “horrible,” parents whose children stopped eating or attending school, families who turned to homeschooling after repeated seclusions, must drive policy, not be balanced away by appeals to “complexity.”

The Alliance Against Seclusion and Restraint strongly supports MDLC’s Legal Aid report, parents and families who have bravely shared their stories, self‑advocates who are naming seclusion for what it is, and educators who are building seclusion‑free schools in Minnesota today.

We urge Minnesota families, advocates, and educators to:

Children in Minnesota deserve schools where safety is built through relationships, supports, and inclusion, not through locks, magnets, and concrete rooms. The Working Group’s Final Report may treat seclusion as a complex “tool.” The lived reality and the Legal Aid evidence tell a simpler truth: seclusion is solitary confinement, it is deeply harmful, and it has no place in any child’s education.

Author

  • Guy Stephens

    Guy Stephens is a passionate advocate and a nationally recognized expert on restraint and seclusion. He has presented at conferences and events across North America and regularly speaks as a guest lecturer for undergraduate and graduate courses. Guy currently serves on the board of directors for The Arc of Maryland and PDA North America. Guy believes that we can do better for all children and adults; if we can, we must. Guy understands that we must embrace neurodiversity and neuroscience to create safe and inclusive environments and ensure equal rights and opportunities for all.

    View all posts
Posted In: , ,

Discover more from Opening Doors to Safer and More Inclusive Schools

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading