Hey,
If you found your way here, maybe it’s because something happened at school that didn’t sit right. Maybe you searched for “why did my whole class get punished” or “it wasn’t my fault but we all lost recess.” Maybe a grown-up sent you here. Or maybe you just wanted to understand.
If so—hi. I’m really glad you’re here.
Because what happened to you? It shouldn’t have.
Maybe it felt confusing at first.
You were just doing your best—or having a hard moment.
Maybe your leg was bouncing, or you called out without meaning to, or you were trying to hold it together after someone else made you feel small.
And instead of helping you, the teacher punished everyone.
They said something like:
“If this keeps happening, no one gets the field trip.”
Or: “We were going to do something fun, but someone made a bad choice.”
Or they just sighed, looked tired, and said, “I guess we’re done here,” and shut everything down.
And you could feel it—eyes, whispers, pressure.
Whether they said your name or not, it landed on you.
That feeling in your chest? That’s called being made to carry something that wasn’t fair.
It’s called collective punishment, and it’s when everyone gets punished for the actions of one or a few people.
But here’s what most schools don’t say out loud:
Collective punishment is wrong.
Even though it happens a lot, that doesn’t make it okay.
Even though some adults defend it, that doesn’t make it fair.
And even if you were the one struggling, you didn’t deserve to be used as an example.
You are not a lesson.
You are a human being. With feelings. With reasons. With needs.
And your needs are not bad.
Your brain is not bad.
Your body, your voice, your energy, your sensitivity—they are not too much.
What’s too much is asking a child to pretend nothing happened.
To act like it didn’t hurt. To keep trusting people who punish first and ask later.
To sit in a room full of classmates and feel the weight of everyone’s disappointment like it belongs to you.
So if you’re feeling upset, confused, angry, ashamed, numb—those are normal feelings. And they are trying to protect you.
And now that you’re here, let me tell you something important:
You’re not alone.
Lots of kids have been through this.
And some of us—parents, advocates, former students—are working to make it stop.
If you want something to do about it, here are a few ideas:
💬 Talk about it
Find a grown-up you trust. That might be a parent, teacher, support worker, therapist, or someone online who helps kids with school stuff. You can say:
“I was punished in a way that didn’t feel fair.”
📝 Write or draw what happened
Sometimes school moves so fast you don’t get a chance to understand what’s really going on. Drawing or journaling helps you slow it down and make sense of your story.
✋ Say what you needed
Maybe you needed a break. Or a fidget. Or for someone to ask what was bothering you. What you needed matters. And it’s okay to say, “That would have helped me.”
🧠 Learn your rights
In BC, every student has the right to be accommodated. That means teachers are supposed to adjust things so your learning needs and disability are supported—not used against you.
⚖️ Imagine justice
What would real fairness look like? A better classroom rule? An apology? A chance to speak your truth? You’re allowed to imagine something better—and even ask for it.
🧍🏽♀️🧍🏻♂️ Know you’re not the only one
Lots of kids—especially neurodivergent kids—have stories like this. And some grow up to become teachers, writers, changemakers, law reformers. You don’t have to be silent or small.
🌱 Heal on your own terms
Maybe you want to bounce on a trampoline, scream into a pillow, listen to your favourite song, or snuggle a pet. What feels good to your body counts. Joy is resistance.
The truth is: school should be a place where you’re safe.
Where differences are understood, not punished.
Where no one teaches your peers to resent you.
Where your hardest moments are met with care—not control.
If that’s not what you got, I want you to know:
It’s not your fault.
It’s not the end.
And it’s not the whole story of who you are.
You’re allowed to take up space.
You’re allowed to be different.
You’re allowed to feel hurt.
You’re allowed to be powerful.
And we’re working—for you, with you, because of you—to make schools worthy of your trust again.
Thanks for finding your way here.
We see you.
—Just a Parent
