Viewing pictures of seclusion rooms and plywood seclusion boxes, videos of small children surrounded with mats or blocked into small spaces, quite literally turns my stomach. When I see these things, I imagine the horror the child must feel, enclosed, with no idea when, or really if, they will be released. The United States Department of Justice defines seclusion as 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). Seclusion is the involuntary confinement, which means that children are often physically restrained and transported to seclusion rooms. These practices can have a lasting negative impact on the child who is being secluded. In fact, there is ample evidence of significant harm to students due to these practices, including serious physical injury, lifelong emotional trauma, and even death.
In discussions of seclusion, or in debates/arguments, some will talk about the feelings of staff and teachers who seclude and restrain students. Professionals advocating for the elimination of seclusion and the reduction of restraint sometimes share that they participated in these tactics and the toll it took on them. We know that in at least one instance, a school staffer committed suicide after being exposed. “None of the Children at the School Are Safe” — ProPublica
But what about the children outside the box? What impact does sitting in a classroom hearing a fellow seven-year-old screaming for help have on a child? Oddly, perhaps, thinking of these children, the children outside the box, brought to mind the story of Kitty Genovese. Kitty Genovese was murdered in New York in 1964. Her attack and death took approximately half an hour. Subsequent investigation revealed that 38 neighbors failed to come to her aid, which led to the theory known as the bystander effect (though more recent analysis suggests that most of the 38 didn’t have a full picture of the full time frame). This event shocked a nation, was used internationally as an example of American cruelty, and was a psychological case study. Imagine being attacked and murdered, and no one comes to your aid. Imagine living knowing you listened to the murder of another human and took no action.
I can’t help but think that by allowing seclusion in schools, we as a society are conditioning children to ignore the suffering of other human beings. How can it be otherwise? Imagine being eight years old and listening to the screams of a classmate inside a plywood box in your classroom. Imagine what recess or lunch might be like following such an experience, having ignored the child sobbing for their mother, or perhaps having seen them emerge smelling of urine when they’ve lost control of their bodily functions. How do these children outside the box carry their experience? With guilt and sadness, possible shame? With coldness, nothingness, acceptance of othering? How do the children outside the box carry their experience into adulthood and their community?
The reality is that seclusion doesn’t just affect “those kids” or a few staff. Seclusion reflects and affects our society.
