According to her mother, Karmin Baldassari was a force. Brimming with enthusiasm and affection, this child effortlessly illuminates a space. That was prior to the second grade at Saugus, Massachusetts’ Belmonte STEAM Academy. Lori-Ann Baldassari, her mother, still finds it difficult to discuss what transpired there over the course of several months without her voice becoming tense.
Karmin’s weight and appearance were made fun of by her classmates. Before she could eat it, they threw away her lunch. When she eventually reached her breaking point in class one afternoon, she turned around and stepped on a boy’s foot after a substitute teacher refused to give her the sensory break she was entitled to under her own school support plan while nearby boys kicked at her. She received a one-day suspension from the school.
For a moment, it’s difficult to ignore that series of events. A 7-year-old with anxiety and ADHD was repeatedly provoked, denied the support she was due, and punished when she did respond. Baldassari claims that although the suspension was later lifted, it was too late. She said to reporters, “That one day did change her forever.”
What transpired went beyond a family’s dissatisfaction with a single school’s choice. It became a focal point in a long-running debate among Massachusetts lawmakers about whether or not young children, especially those in the early elementary grades, should be suspended at all. Child development advocates and education reformers are increasingly of the opinion that suspending a second-grader causes a great deal of long-term harm but very little behavior correction.
When schools were considering using suspension as a disciplinary measure for older students in more serious circumstances, it made some intuitive sense. However, when it comes to 7-year-olds, especially those with documented emotional and behavioral needs, it begins to resemble abandonment rather than discipline. This perspective has been largely supported by research, which indicates that early-grade suspensions are associated with increased mental health issues and long-term academic disengagement. Karmin’s situation appears to closely match that pattern.
Lori-Ann Baldassari filed a formal state complaint, something that many parents in her situation don’t feel empowered to do. The complaint exerts pressure on a system that frequently resolves these conflicts in secret, behind closed administrative doors. It remains to be seen if that complaint results in any institutional change. However, it has a weight that it might not have had at a different time because it emerged during Massachusetts’s active legislative debate.
As this develops, it seems that the Saugus case is significant not because it is extreme but rather because it isn’t. It’s likely that stories similar to Karmin’s occur in hundreds of schools each year, but in more subdued ways that never make it to a reporter’s inbox. A youngster becomes overburdened. A signal is missed by a teacher. Removal is the most familiar tool available, so an administrator reaches for it. Uncertain of any other choice, the family takes it in and moves on.
Reforming discipline is a real challenge. Schools are actually in charge of maintaining law and order. Teachers encounter situations for which they are unprepared, especially substitutes who frequently enter classrooms without any prior knowledge of the needs of individual students. Many of these situations might be avoided before they worsen with improved training, improved staff-family communication, and more explicit procedures for students with support plans.
However, the notion that sending a 7-year-old home for a day teaches her anything useful is becoming harder to defend. Karmin’s tale might represent the experiences of a single family. However, everyone needs to find a solution to the reform debate it is fueling.
