For nearly 25 years, I’ve represented children in Santa Barbara County schools — many of them navigating abuse, neglect, or simply struggling to fit into a system that wasn’t built for them. Over time, a troubling pattern has become clear: Our schools offer two very different experiences — one for students who fit in, and another for those who don’t.
For those who fall outside the mold — whether due to racial bias, trauma, neurodivergence, mental health challenges, or unmet needs — there is often a third and dangerous path. Instead of addressing root causes of behavior challenges with a science-backed approach as required by law, schools suspend and expel vulnerable children further to the margins and directly into the School-to-Prison Pipeline. This approach doesn’t improve school safety. It makes things worse. As the American Academy of Pediatrics affirms, there is no record of a school shooting ever being prevented by a suspension or expulsion.
This divide further fuels low expectations, something proven to drag down student performance and foster a culture of exclusion. When schools are truly inclusive, the research is clear: students thrive when they feel safe, supported, and connected. In those environments, they show up more, learn more, and make better choices. Quality education is our most powerful tool to break the cycle of poverty and close equity gaps; it must be available to all children.
Our current education system lacks both transparency and independent oversight. School performance data is based on self-reporting, leaving room for manipulation and misrepresentation. A local example: Aliso Elementary School in the Carpinteria Unified School District was recently named a “2025 California Distinguished School” — an honor supposedly reserved for schools closing the achievement gap. But is Aliso’s self-reported data even valid, and even if it is, should we be celebrating?
Aliso Elementary School reported in 2023–2024 academic gains for just 147 students — all from grades 3–5 — despite reporting overall academic performance well below state standards and extremely high suspension rates. These tested students represent less than half of the school’s total enrollment of 335; approximately 160 students were excluded from testing entirely.
Even more concerning is the discrepancy between testing rates and absenteeism. Aliso reports a 19 percent chronic absenteeism rate overall, which jumps to 25 percent for students with disabilities. Yet, among the 3rd- to 5th-grade students who were tested, the school reports a significantly lower 16 percent absenteeism rate. Which students were selected for testing? And who was left out? Are we seeing true academic progress, or carefully curated data?
When a child exhibits symptoms of a behavioral disability, the school is legally required to formally assess the child’s unique needs and address them through the IEP [Individualized Education Program] process using positive behavior interventions scientifically proven to remedy maladaptive behaviors.
The science works extremely well when implemented by staff properly trained and supported … but it costs money. Instead, schools often go without ever offering such evaluation or documenting the child’s needs. Instead, children are left suffering with worsening behaviors impacting the school climate for everyone. The schools document children as “behavior problems” to justify punitive and exclusionary measures such as suspensions and expulsions, and sometimes include law enforcement — a tactic terrifying to anyone.
In a recent case in the Carpinteria school district, a boy with special needs was suspended for five school days for being late to class. In another, a student with anxiety and ADHD was suspended repeatedly for refusing to remove a piece of clothing that he needed to feel comfortable in public — a fact that had been communicated repeatedly to the school disrtict.
Suspensions and expulsions are proven to increase truancy, which begs the question of what the Carpinteria district’s goal is here.
If nearly one in five children are chronically absent at Aliso, do students feel safe and supported at school? Isn’t this a reflection of deeper issues — school connectedness, safety, and trust? These factors aren’t even considered in Distinguished School criteria. Nor are expulsion rates or whether students feel mentored and valued. The core question remains: Can we trust self-reported data from schools to tell the full story?
When we reward schools for marginal gains based upon data lacking transparency, while ignoring widespread academic underperformance and exclusion, we send the wrong message. It appears schools are deciding who they want to educate, and who gets left behind or kicked out. True accountability means asking hard questions: Who gets included in the data? Are families keeping their children home out of fear or concern? Are reported gains representative, or just carefully curated? If literacy is foundational to democracy, what does it say about our system when we award distinction to schools that fail to educate most of their students? Until we demand independent and meaningful metrics — beyond test scores and self-praise — we can’t claim to be closing the achievement gap. We’re simply covering it up.
Schools face real challenges — but they also hold incredible promise. Demanding what works and confronting what doesn’t give educators the tools to create safe, supportive, and empowering spaces for every child. Children are the heart of who we are — and who we’re becoming. The status quo is too costly. Every day in a child’s life has the power to be the day that changes everything. Our schools must be capable of that responsibility, and we must support them in becoming so. We have a long way to go.
