NewsNation’s Nick Smith says outrage is spreading in upstate New York after allegations surfaced that school staff were using wooden “timeout boxes” on special-needs students.
Smith reported the boxes were described as wooden structures lined with a padded mat, and they were allegedly used as a “behavioral calming measure.” The claims, he said, have exploded into a national story – big enough that even New York Gov. Kathy Hochul weighed in, calling the situation “alarming and entirely unacceptable.”
According to Smith, the school district’s board of directors responded by closing the campus after launching an investigation. Smith also reported that the superintendent was placed on at-home duties, and other staff members were put on administrative leave pending further notice.
That combination – campus closure, superintendent sidelined, staff pulled from duty—signals officials believe the allegations are serious enough that normal business can’t continue while they sort out what happened.
And if you’re a parent hearing this from the outside, it’s hard not to read those moves as: “We think something went very wrong.”
“Don’t Call Them Boxes,” A Parent Says
In Smith’s first report, he interviewed Chrissy Onientatahse Jacobs, identified by NewsNation as a parent and a former Salmon River School District board member.
Jacobs immediately pushed back on the language people were using. Smith said when he referred to “boxes,” Jacobs told him she doesn’t like that word because it “minimizes the damage and the trauma” families say they experienced.
Jacobs told Smith she calls them what she believes they are: “child-sized holes.”
That phrasing is sharp, and it’s not an accident. Jacobs’ whole point, as presented by Smith, was that soft language can act like a pillow over a hard truth. If the public hears “timeout,” they might picture a corner seat or a calm-down chair.
Jacobs was telling Smith: stop picturing that. Picture confinement.
Smith reported Jacobs said she obtained images of the wooden structures after a concerned community member – someone connected to the school – forwarded them to her while resigning.
Smith relayed Jacobs’ description that this person essentially told her: you have permission to share, because “we need all the help we can get.”
That detail matters because it frames the leak as an act of conscience, not gossip. In Smith’s reporting, it sounds like someone inside the system felt they couldn’t fix it quietly and decided outside pressure was the only lever left.
How The Boxes Were Allegedly Used
Smith pressed Jacobs on what was known about how these wooden structures were used, and whether anyone had seen a child inside.
Jacobs told Smith that, according to what she had learned, one of the boxes was allegedly built with one specific student in mind. Smith also reported Jacobs named Principal Allison as part of what she was hearing through sources.
Jacobs told Smith she had come to believe a behavioral specialist brought into the district was pressuring staff to use the boxes.
And Jacobs didn’t stop there. In Smith’s reporting, she claimed staff were also pressured to use closets or bookshelves to “corral” children.
If that’s true, the boxes aren’t the whole story—they’re just the most visible and most shocking symbol of a deeper problem: adults improvising containment instead of building supports.
Smith asked the obvious question most people were thinking: how does something like this happen with so many adults around? How does nobody stop it?
Jacobs’ answer to Smith wasn’t about one bad choice in one classroom. She framed it as what happens when a community becomes dehumanized.
Smith quoted Jacobs describing it as a “direct relation” to what happens when you dehumanize a population – eventually, she said, people become “statistics on a paper for funding.”
That’s a broad claim, but it explains the emotional force behind this story. Jacobs wasn’t just alleging misconduct. She was alleging a mindset.
“Really Lazy Education,” An Advocate Says
In Smith’s follow-up report, he interviewed Dr. Sarah Konwahahawi Herne, a community advocate with a doctorate in education.
Smith opened by describing a community calling for accountability, transparency, and swift action after learning the school was allegedly using wooden boxes to confine special-needs children.
Herne’s first reaction, as Smith aired it, was blunt: disbelief – followed by disgust.
Herne told Smith it looked like “really lazy education,” and she called it “inadequate,” “disgusting,” and “uncalled for.” She said leadership must be held accountable.
Smith raised an argument some people try to make in cases like this: maybe the intent was to keep a student safe, or to separate a child who was more “active” from other students.
Herne didn’t deny that schools sometimes need de-escalation spaces. In fact, she told Smith there are circumstances where you can create a calm space to remove a student from overstimulation.
But Herne laid out conditions, as Smith reported them: parental consent, and a plan embedded in something like an IEP or another educational plan for the student.
Then she drew a hard line: Herne told Smith that in this situation, there was no parent consent, no transparent process, and no responsible communication about what was being implemented.
She also described what she saw in the images. Smith reported Herne saying the boxes showed signs that disturbed her—scratches, saliva, duct tape, and general wear that suggested the boxes weren’t symbolic or unused.
Herne used extremely strong language in Smith’s report, calling it a “torture device,” and she said children were placed in it for being disabled and for behavioral issues.
That’s an allegation, not a proven fact, but it reflects the level of alarm and anger in the community Smith was reporting on.
Who Gets Blamed When A System Fails?
Smith asked Herne a question that sits at the center of almost every school scandal: who’s accountable?
Herne’s answer, as Smith presented it, was not limited to a single teacher or a single classroom. She said accountability should extend to the superintendent, the board, and the state – everyone involved in allowing such a practice to exist.
She also widened it beyond the district. Herne told Smith that if anything like this is happening elsewhere, it needs to be stopped “nationwide.”
Smith then linked her comments back to how the images became public. Herne said, in Smith’s report, that Jacobs posted the picture after it was disclosed by a former teacher who had “enough” of the system and went public.
Herne also supported Jacobs’ refusal to accept the “timeout box” phrase. She told Smith she rejects that soft terminology and compared the idea to putting a child “in a crate.”
Even if someone tries to argue there was no malicious intent, the optics – and the alleged experience of the children – are so severe that “intent” almost becomes a sidetrack. The real question becomes: why was confinement treated like an acceptable tool at all?
The Language War Matters Because Kids Live Inside It
One thing Smith’s reporting makes clear is that this isn’t only a fight about a wooden structure. It’s a fight about what adults are willing to call normal when the children involved can’t always speak for themselves.
Jacobs, in Smith’s interview, kept circling back to language – because language sets the public’s emotional temperature. “Timeout” sounds like a strategy. “Child-sized holes” sounds like a warning flare.
Herne, in Smith’s second report, leaned into the same point from a different angle: de-escalation is real, but it has rules – consent, planning, transparency, dignity.
And that’s where this story feels so chilling. If the allegations are true, then the kids most likely to be placed in these boxes were kids least able to clearly report it afterward—especially if some were nonverbal, as Herne described to Smith when talking about families recognizing triggers and disclosures in different ways.
This is why the investigation matters. Not for PR. Not for politics. For the simplest reason: school is supposed to be the place where vulnerable kids get more protection, not less.
Nick Smith reported this story as still developing, with investigations underway and staff placed on leave. The public will eventually learn what investigators confirm, what policies were violated, and what consequences follow.
But even before the final report lands, the question hovering over everything Smith aired is brutally basic: how did adults ever decide a wooden enclosure belonged anywhere near a classroom?
For extra info, check out the NewsNation reports here and here.
Mark grew up in the heart of Texas, where tornadoes and extreme weather were a part of life. His early experiences sparked a fascination with emergency preparedness and homesteading. A father of three, Mark is dedicated to teaching families how to be self-sufficient, with a focus on food storage, DIY projects, and energy independence. His writing empowers everyday people to take small steps toward greater self-reliance without feeling overwhelmed.
