“Walk into any classroom in California, and you’ll see so many kids filled with promise,” says a public school teacher in the Oakland school district. But for too many students, especially “Black, Brown, disabled, homeless, and foster youth,” that promise is derailed by a system that treats misbehavior as a criminal offense instead of a chance to grow, she explained. This is the reality of the school-to-prison pipeline: policies and practices that push children out of classrooms and into jail cells.
You can see its effects across the state of California, but especially in Oakland. A former student from the Oakland Unified School District recalls, “A student talks back or wears the ‘wrong’ hoodie, and suddenly they’re out of class for days.” This is most likely the student’s second or third suspension, so they continue to fall behind, miss class, and be labeled a “problem” for the school district. “Over time, school feels less like a place of opportunity and more like a revolving door of punishment,” the teacher added. Many kids will disengage entirely, some will even drop out, and because of this, a lot of children end up entangled in the juvenile justice system.
For years, California schools relied heavily on punitive discipline, including suspensions, expulsions, and the presence of police officers on campus. In many districts, these tools weren’t applied evenly. In Oakland, for example, Black students were just 26% of the school population but made up 73% of student arrests in 2015. That same year, Oakland schools made over 9,000 calls to law enforcement. And the punishment doesn’t end at the school doors. Suspensions and expulsions have been shown to increase the likelihood of dropping out and entering the justice system, particularly for students who already face instability outside the classroom, such as homelessness, poverty, and foster care. Foster youth in California, for instance, lost up to 121 days of instruction per 100 students due to suspensions, compared to a statewide average of just 10 days. However, California is pushing back.
In 2023, the state passed Senate Bill 274, which bans suspensions for “willful defiance” across all K–12 grades. This means students can no longer be removed from class for things like refusing to remove a hat or using their phone at the wrong time. It might seem like a small change, but it carries big impacts, one being that it will remove vague, subjective disciplinary measures that have historically disproportionately targeted students of color, LGBTQ+ students, and youth with disabilities.
The Los Angeles Unified School District, however, has been way ahead. Back in 2013, LAUSD became the first district in the state to ban willful defiance suspensions for younger students. Since then, suspension rates have dropped, and more students have remained in class. While other states have taken steps to reduce suspensions, California remains ahead of the curve. A 2023 Education Week survey found that fewer than a dozen states have implemented statewide bans similar to California’s, and many school districts nationwide still rely heavily on punitive measures. But numbers only tell part of the story. Schools are now turning to solutions that aren’t just reducing harm but are rewiring the system.
One of the most positive shifts is the move toward restorative justice. In this new model, students aren’t punished and suspended/expelled. Instead, they’re brought into a structured dialogue that includes the people affected by their actions, e.g, classmates, teachers, and staff. They talk, listen, and reflect on their actions. They work toward repairing the harm they’ve caused rather than simply being labeled as harmful.
Schools across the state are training teachers and staff in restorative practices. At her school, the former student recalls when they began using dedicated coordinators to run “restorative circles,” where students can talk through conflict and reflect on their behavior. “These practices didn’t just keep us in the classroom,” she said, “they gave us the tools to handle our emotions, resolve conflict, and feel accountable without being alienated.”
Another notable program, the Oakland teacher pointed out, is the spread of social-emotional learning (SEL). “These programs teach skills that every student needs,” she said– skills like managing stress, communicating clearly, and building healthy relationships. SEL curricula are being integrated into classrooms from kindergarten through high school, particularly in districts that are seeking to transition away from reactive discipline and towards more proactive support.
California is also rethinking what education looks like for its most marginalized youth. Alternative and court schools, often viewed as the last stop before incarceration, are being more scrutinized. Historically, these schools have lacked oversight, academic rigor, and student support. But starting in 2025, a statewide initiative will take place. The focus is on smaller class sizes, trauma-informed teaching, individualized instruction, and real pathways back into traditional schools.
Programs supporting foster and homeless youth are also expanding. More districts are using case managers to track and support these students, ensuring they’re not overlooked. Community organizations are partnering with schools to provide mentorship, tutoring, and other essential services, including housing referrals and transportation assistance.
Oakland offers one of the clearest examples of change. In 2020, after years of organizing by Black parents, youth advocates, and civil rights groups, the city eliminated its school police force. This was a massive change; it was replaced with investments in mental health counselors, restorative justice staff, and a culturally responsive curriculum. The move was historic but also controversial. It was a willingness to imagine schools without armed officers as the first line of discipline. That vision is spreading. California’s commitment to ending the school-to-prison pipeline isn’t just about banning suspensions or hiring counselors. It’s about changing what children and even society believe schools are for. Are they places where students are punished or where they are cultivated into becoming the best versions of themselves? Are missteps treated as threats or as teaching moments?
All of this change doesn’t mean the work is over; it’s far from over. Disparities still exist. Resources are still uneven, and many communities are skeptical of all the change taking place. But the direction is clear. Every time a student is given support instead of suspension, every time a conversation replaces a call to the police, every time a classroom becomes a place of learning instead of exclusion, it is one step closer to breaking the cycle.
