Sometimes, as school leaders, it takes the case of an individual to frame our thinking around exclusions. 

For me, I can’t help but think of Sean, a Year 10 student who, following years of disengagement and disruptive behaviour, was permanently excluded from a school I used to work in. The final straw came when he was caught in the playground one lunchtime with half a bottle of vodka in his school bag.

Sean’s family background was complex: his dad was in prison and he had been known to social care since he was a baby. His childhood and early adolescence had been chaotic, and shaped by the poverty he was born into.

The most vulnerable in society

The news this week that excluded children like Sean are the most vulnerable in society is no surprise to anyone who works in education.

A report, published this week by Social Finance, showed that children with experience of social care were more likely to experience all forms of exclusion. Fifteen per cent of vulnerable children experienced 58 per cent of multiple fixed-term exclusions, and children with special educational needs and disability were eight times more likely than their peers to be permanently excluded. 

Add to this the shameful statistic that black Caribbean children and those of mixed white and black Caribbean ethnicity are almost three times more likely than their peers to experience exclusion, while Gypsy/Roma and Irish Traveller children are excluded at even higher rates (2019 Timpson Review of Exclusions), and you begin to get the picture. 

It doesn’t end there, though. Excluded children are also twice as likely as their peers to be in the care of the state, four times more likely to have grown up in poverty and 10 times more likely to suffer recognised mental health problems (Making The Difference IIPR Report). 

‘Detrimental to his classmates’ education’

Despite the vulnerability of our excluded young people being well reported, it is clear that our current education system is not equipped to break the cycle of disadvantage.

In Sean’s case, I recall the discussions at the time about the impact his behaviour was having on other pupils. I remember a meeting in which he and his mum were told that keeping him in school would be detrimental to all his classmates’ education.

I wanted to believe the school’s argument that a placement at the local pupil referral unit was actually in his best interests, that smaller class sizes and intensive support would help to get him back on the right path. 

I, like Sean and his mum, heard the words “This doesn’t have to be the end of the road for you,” but still suspected that it might be.

As a school leader, I have always believed in inclusive education and supporting children to stay in mainstream schools as far as possible. On the rare occasions that this is not the most appropriate place for a child, I would argue that we have a moral obligation to ensure that the alternative is exemplary, and specifically tailored to meet their needs.

All too often, though, children are removed from mainstream education with no clear plan for ensuring that they are supported to meet their potential. Indeed, we know that, historically, the outcomes for children excluded from school are poor. Too often, school exclusion leads to social exclusion. 

‘Intent to supply’

The tragic reality is that excluded young people are much more likely to be unemployed, to develop severe mental health problems or go to prison. No school leader wants that for the children in their care.

Following his permanent exclusion, Sean would often be seen hanging around the gates of the school at the end of the day. Seeing him standing at the gate for an hour or more, waiting for his friends, was a regular reminder that - in Sean’s eyes, at least - he had been abandoned and rejected by our school. That, as he had been told in that meeting, he was less important than everyone else. 

The fact is that he was right.

Just over a year later, I heard from one of Sean’s cousins that he was serving a sentence in a young offenders’ institute. The reasons were vague, but the words “intent to supply” were ones that the cousin remembered. The same cousin came to inform me later that year that his sentence had been extended, following an assault on another young person.

Sean’s story is one that has stayed with me for years. We should have fought harder for him. His future was mapped out from birth, and we didn’t do enough to ensure that he found a different path.

Intervention is vital

The children’s commissioner for England published a report last week stating that children who miss learning goals at the age of 5 face a greatly increased risk of exclusion. 

Primary school had been a challenge for Sean: he would almost certainly have been one of those children to miss the learning goals at 5. But his learning difficulties were so often attributed to his disruptive behaviour, his poor school attendance and the lack of parental support. 

The reality is that, had he been assessed, he would undoubtedly have been found to have undiagnosed special educational needs or disabilities. His adverse childhood experiences and history of trauma would have meant that his social, emotional and mental health needs were complex.

For children like Sean, early intervention and assessment is vital. Sean was always known to social care and a more joined-up multi-agency approach could have only been beneficial. Maybe this would have meant that he would have received an education, health and care plan, with associated funding. Perhaps he would have been assigned a mentor, received therapeutic support and worked with specialist teachers to improve his literacy.

Undoubtedly, we need a whole-system approach to address the issues of rising school exclusions. Much can be learned from Scotland, where exclusions of all kinds have steadily and significantly declined since 2016-17.

With an approach that focuses on early intervention and prevention, young people in Scotland can only be excluded from school in the most extreme circumstances. Scottish councils are duty-bound to provide a school education to all excluded pupils - whether that is in another local school, a school in a different education authority or at an alternative location to school. Alongside the reduction in exclusions, Scotland has seen a parallel decrease in serious youth violence.

Would Sean’s story have been different had he been supported to stay in mainstream education? We’ll never know for sure, but all the evidence suggests that more can and should be done for children like him.

Gerry Robinson is a headteacher, leader in inclusive education and educational activist. She tweets as @gerryrobin5on