The Kids We Tuck Away

This week I’m putting my regular content down to talk about something close to my heart, and close to this community. My heart is with those affected by the shooting at Silver Rail Elementary school last Thursday.

I knew Griffin J. John II, the shooter, although only a little. My kid was in a special education program, called Tamarack, at Silver Rail Elementary from 2017 to 2020. Griffin was in the program, too. I won’t guess at his life or why he did what he did. I am horrified by what Griffin did. What I do know is that program, and that it heavily impacted my kid.

My kid struggled in school from the start. It was too loud, bright, chaotic and overwhelming. In kindergarten they learned that being loud or out of control meant being sent home, which was what they wanted, so they acted out. From there they got sent into increasingly restrictive programs, until finally sent to a school where kids were physically restrained, put into isolation rooms, and fights and bullying were part of every day. When an adult did real harm, it was swept under the rug. My kid was 7 years old, hopeless, lonely and so angry. They were beginning to act like a caged animal. I wish I could say it got better.

We built a system that isn’t designed for children who struggle. When a kid is too loud or disruptive, we tuck them away in another room, another program, another school. Even among kids who struggle, we sort. The quiet ones tend to stay included. The noisy, messy ones get put in contained classrooms, kept apart from the rest of the school, and asked to talk about what hurts. We call it support. Mostly it is containment. In the rooms I saw, nothing changed about the reasons the kids got there. The only goal was changed behavior. These programs are full of angry, lost kids supported by exhausted, struggling parents. Many don’t have good outcomes.

In my experience, kids made to obey out of fear don’t learn what we hoped. They learn that power wins, and they build resentment and a hunger for revenge. Their chance at an education dwindles and disappears. Chances for success disappear. Anger is a sign: a boundary was crossed, something was unfair, something was lost. If a child’s anger isn’t investigated they learn no one is going to help. They are on their own.

Behind many hurting kids is a family stretched too thin: a single parent working too many hours, money that never covers it, burnout, neurodivergence without support. Schools can’t cover all of that, and the safety nets have thinned. Teachers aren’t the enemy. They are doing the impossible with too few hands.

So here is how we catch kids, and their families, before they fall through the cracks.

In the classroom:

Stop sending kids home as the consequence. It teaches a child that acting out is the way out, and leaves them alone with the problem.
Give them a calm place with a trained adult who stays. A child in a big feeling needs a person, not an empty room or a restraint.
Give each struggling child one trusted adult, across years. Trust takes time, and a child who starts over every September never gets to finish.
Keep them in the whole school. Lunch, recess and activities with everyone else, so they belong to the school and stay connected to friends.
Start the day with a 2-minute check-in. “How are you coming in today?” is how you learn about the dog that died or the parent who moved out before it shows up as behavior.
Teach every child conflict and repair. Say what happened, take accountability, make it right. Struggling kids aren’t the only ones expected to learn compassion.
Bring support into the regular classroom. Help should come to the child, so getting help doesn’t mean being sent away.

For families:

Put an advocate in every school. Someone who can connect a family to food, housing and care, so a hard home gets help before it becomes a crisis.
Call home with good news, too. A parent whose phone only rings when there’s trouble starts to dread it.
Shorten the wait for help. Support that takes months to reach arrives after the damage is done.
Ask what a child is coming home to, with curiosity, not judgment. Most parents are doing the best they can, and often it’s not enough.

The rest of us can be the adult who stays: a coach, a neighbor, a mentor, a friend. You don’t need a degree to say, I see you, and I’m not going anywhere. Draw them in, keep them close, don’t push them out.

I don’t know exactly what Griffin needed. But whatever it was, he didn’t get it. I know what those rooms did to my kid, and I saw what it did to others. I also saw whose kids get sent to these classrooms, and whose don’t. In my experience it followed race, income, and which parents had the time, money and clout to push back.

Most hurt kids never hurt anyone. They carry it. When it festers, it can lead to withdrawal, addiction, compulsive behaviors, depression, eating disorders and, rarely, violence. Those are outcomes we can prevent. That is reason enough to change things.

If you’re a parent or teacher who has lived this, I’d like to hear from you. If you or a child you love is struggling, call or text 988, any hour.

Questions or thoughts? Write to Mary@Myco.Vision.