There’s a story in our family about a relative a hundred years ago who was put in what was called then the “cloak room” for punishment. In those days you went to the cloak room for a day. He had to go to the bathroom so he peed into the teacher’s umbrella.
Nobody sued the school system.
I spent a whole school year with my desk moved into the cloak hall. Nothing wrong with me today . . . well, mostly.