Untracked. Unchallenged. Unjust: The Quiet Crisis of Informal Exclusion in B.C. Schools

We often imagine school exclusion as something formal, including suspensions, expulsions, and disciplinary letters. Visible. Documented. Regulated. But some of the most harmful exclusions don’t happen in policy, instead, they happen quietly, behind closed doors, disguised as compassion.

More and more families are being asked to take their child home for the day or keep their child home for the day. Sometimes it’s framed as a mutual agreement. Sometimes, as a way to avoid putting a black mark on a student’s record. A gesture of kindness. An alternative to suspension. A compassionate compromise. But make no mistake—this is exclusion, and it is harming some of our most vulnerable learners.

These hidden exclusions aren’t tracked. They don’t show up in suspension data or district reports. They bypass the legal safeguards outlined in B.C.’s School Act, including the right to a board appeal and the obligation to provide an educational program for suspended students under age 16. When a child is sent home informally, none of these protections apply. Parents are offered no transparency, no formal notice, and no real way to challenge the decision. It’s quiet. It’s convenient. And it keeps the suspension statistics looking clean.

Worse still, these absences are often coded in attendance systems as “parent/guardian excused,” suggesting that the decision was voluntary. But many parents are pressured into agreement. They’re told their child is too dysregulated, too disruptive, or simply “not having a good day.” They're made to feel like removing their child is the only option. But this isn’t support. It’s offloading. It’s a system protecting itself rather than meeting the needs of the students it serves.

And who are these students? They are overwhelmingly disabled. Neurodivergent. Living with trauma. They are the ones the system isn’t designed to include. When the system lacks the capacity or willingness to support them, it quietly removes them.

Sending students home may seem like a softer alternative to formal suspension, but the damage it causes is far from mild. When a student is removed from class—even temporarily—they are not just losing learning time. They are being socially excluded. They are being separated from their peers, denied access to their education, and sent a clear message: you don’t belong here.

This kind of exclusion can have serious and lasting consequences. Students who are repeatedly sent home often experience increased feelings of shame, anxiety, and disconnection from school. It contributes to academic decline, reinforces a sense of failure, and can worsen underlying mental health conditions. For students with disabilities, neurodivergence, or trauma histories, this disruption can be particularly harmful, and recovery is not always easy.

Research shows that social exclusion can trigger the same areas of the brain as physical pain. In other words, being left out or removed doesn’t just feel bad—it can be neurologically and emotionally injurious. When used as a disciplinary tool, exclusion may appear less severe than physical punishment, but its impact can be just as harmful. The result is not increased compliance or improved behaviour—it’s withdrawal, mistrust, and often, a downward spiral in both well-being and academic engagement.

If the goal of discipline is to foster learning, responsibility, and social development, then this isn’t discipline at all. It’s abandonment.

We must start calling this what it is: systemic avoidance disguised as care. If a child is being sent home because their needs aren’t being met at school, that’s not kindness—it’s failure. Families deserve transparency, proper documentation, and the right to challenge those decisions. Instead, schools often respond by tightening codes of conduct to justify exclusion, making it easier to discipline rather than support. But what if, instead of focusing on control, we focused on care? What if we asked what support the student truly needs and committed to working together to meet those needs with compassion and accountability?

Sending a child home without documentation, without recourse, and without meaningful support is exclusion. And inclusion isn't real until we stop finding quiet ways to push students out.