At the young age of 5 years old, I was introduced to the concept of neurodivergency. My elementary school participated in mainstreaming, a practice in which students with special needs are integrated into general education settings. So, in my kindergarten class there were a few neurodivergent students.
I could tell that they were different, but I also understood that this was perfectly okay. We played and learned together, which reinforced the importance of inclusion and acceptance.

I arrived at high school with a passion for work in special education and was accepted into a program known as “PE Partners”, a physical education class made up of neurotypical and neurodivergent students.
My experiences in this program were incredibly positive and meaningful, except for the day a young neurodivergent student became incredibly agitated and began to get physically violent. The boy was autistic, which hindered his ability to regulate his emotions and physical outburst. During this specific outburst, the boy had to be physically restrained by an aide. She held him down on the ground, arms restricted, as he screamed and cried and begged.
The scene was traumatic to say the least.

Considering how distraught I was, I can only imagine how difficult that moment must have been to process for a student with an intellectual disability. The worst part is, at the time, there was really no other option to deescalate the situation. If he had not been restrained, he could have been a serious harm to himself or others. There needs to be more options for responding to such crises.
Students in special education are particularly vulnerable to experiencing mental health crises. They have higher levels of emotional, behavioral, developmental, and trauma-related needs. For instance, one report notes that students eligible for “emotional disturbance” in Connecticut face very high rates of suspension and removal, suggesting gaps in behavioral-health supports. Furthermore, there has been a sharp rise in restraint and seclusion incidents in Hamden and Clinton schools. Officials link this increase to post-pandemic trauma, behavioral escalations, and disruptions in special education programs.
As schools struggle to manage increased emotional and behavioral challenges with limited resources and support systems, a mental health crisis among children in special education grows.
I advocate for a mandate which requires dedicated, embedded mental-health professionals in every special education classroom or setting statewide. This can include school psychologists, counselors, and licensed social workers. It would be funded by the state and tracked by student to clinician ratios.
Existing Connecticut policy requires districts to adopt behavioral intervention plans and includes behavior assessments under recent legislation in special education. Additionally, the state’s “School Health and Sanitation” guidelines emphasize that districts should provide early and ongoing mental health screening, crisis intervention, staff development, parent-school linkages and community-based linkages.
I believe that we can take this focus on mental health in special education a step further. My suggested legislation would require each education classroom, or wing, to have at least one full-time licensed mental-health clinician dedicated to students with IEPs or other special-ed designations. While professional guidance currently recommends about one full-time school psychologist for every 500 students and one counselor for every 250, the reality is that many schools face ratios of 1:1,000 or worse. Thus, students with special needs are often left without consistent mental-health staffing.
When schools have dedicated mental health professionals embedded in special education settings, they can intervene early, provide screenings, link to community care, train staff in de-escalation, and create proactive support, ultimately helping to prevent mental health crises. Inevitably, the occasional crisis will still occur but studies show trauma-informed supports substantially reduce the use of restraints and seclusion.
A similar legislation has been successfully implemented in Sacramento County, California. They launched a county-wide initiative under the state’s Mental Health Student Services Act to place a full-time mental-health clinician in every public school. This model has expanded prevention, early intervention, and crisis services for more than 250,000 students and has been credited with transforming schools into “centers of wellness” by strengthening daily mental health support, not just emergency response.
This mandate would move the special education system from largely reactive discipline and punishment to proactive support and prevention. Rather than falling back on restraint, seclusion, suspension or exclusion, policy must promote services that prevent escalation. There is a lack of dedicated mental-health staffing in schools that needs to be corrected. I believe it can lead to measurable improvements, like reduced restraints, improved school climate, and better access to mental health for a vulnerable population. Supporting these students can improve well-being and educational outcomes.
We owe it to every child, especially those with special needs, to create schools where mental health is not an afterthought, but rather a foundation. No child should have to endure the trauma of physical restraint simply because our system lacks the resources to support them better. By embedding dedicated mental health professionals directly into special education classrooms across Connecticut, we can transform schools from places of crisis to places of care, growth, and true inclusion.
Emme Turner is a senior at Sacred Heart University, majoring in health science, and will be returning in the fall for her master’s in occupational therapy.

