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

Seclusion Rooms in Minnesota

Seclusion Rooms in Minnesota

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:

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:

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:

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

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:

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:

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:

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:

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 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.

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