Letter: When inclusion is insufficient

Letter to the editor

All over the United States, families with children who have disabilities face a question that rarely comes up in policy discussions but is always on their minds: What will happen to my child when I am no longer here?

Parents often start worrying about this right after their child is diagnosed, whether it’s autism, a cognitive disability, or another condition. This concern shapes every choice they make about their child’s education. Families want more than just academic learning; they want to know if the school system will help their children live with dignity, independence, and purpose.

Children with disabilities did not choose their situation. Like everyone else, they deserve to be treated as equals and seen as valuable members of society, not pushed aside.

While national debates often center on homeschooling, school choice, and fewer students in public schools, the needs of students with disabilities are often overlooked. For many parents, the main worry isn’t whether the system works well, but whether it works at all.

For students with complex physical, cognitive, or developmental needs, the stakes are even higher. They rely on special support, like therapy, behavioral specialists, IEPs, and structured settings that help them grow both academically and socially.

Federal laws like the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) promise all students a free and appropriate public education. On paper, the United States has one of the strongest legal systems in the world to protect students with disabilities.

But how these protections are put into practice can vary widely from one school district to another.

In recent years, many districts have indicated that financial pressures, coupled with declining enrollment and the expansion of school-choice programs, have strained their capacity to sustain specialized services. Programs serving general education students frequently receive greater attention, as reading and mathematics outcomes significantly influence state evaluations of school performance. Even though special education is protected by law, it doesn’t always get the same attention or resources as other programs.

For families with children who have disabilities, these gaps aren’t just policy issues; they affect daily life and shape their children’s future independence. Many parents report that private and charter schools often lack the trained personnel required to support students with complex needs. Although homeschooling is an option for some families, it may remove children from structured environments that provide essential therapies and opportunities for social interaction.

For students with autism, social interaction is key to their growth. Being isolated can make it even harder for them to communicate, manage emotions, and become part of the community in the long run. 

Countries such as Italy have established inclusive education systems in which specialized support is integrated into mainstream classrooms through trained educators and multidisciplinary teams. Iceland prioritizes early intervention and close collaboration between schools and families. In Israel, inclusion extends beyond the classroom, as young adults with disabilities participate in national service programs tailored to their abilities.

These examples teach us something important: real inclusion needs structure, enough resources, and accountability. Supporting special education isn’t just the right thing to do — it also makes sense financially. When students with disabilities get the help they need, they’re more likely to become independent and join the workforce. This helps communities grow stronger and reduces long-term social costs.

Genuine inclusion does not entail lowering. Real inclusion doesn’t mean expecting less. It means seeing that people with disabilities have both rights and responsibilities, just like everyone else. They possess a unique understanding of these realities. They navigate the system daily, advocating for services, coordinating therapies, and collaborating with educators and specialists to support their children’s success.

But often, what families go through doesn’t reach state and federal policymakers clearly enough. Education systems have many layers, and as information moves through them, families’ experiences can get watered down. As a result, decision-makers might not fully understand the urgency of these problems.

No one understands the needs and potential of special-education students better than their parents. Across the country, there are remarkable programs that help students develop their talents and independence, regardless of their abilities. Some focus on the arts, including music, painting, or writing. Others emphasize technology, culinary arts, sports, or creative fields such as graphic design. These programs reveal the remarkable potential that emerges when education is structured around a child’s strengths rather than their limitations.

My daughter reminds me of this every day. Five years ago, she was considered nonverbal. Now, she’s starting to speak up more in English and is also learning Spanish. Thanks to the educational programs she watched as a child, she’s picked up words from several other languages, too. Her story isn’t unique. It shows what can happen when we recognize a child’s abilities instead of underestimating them.

Public education remains one of the best ways to promote fairness in a democracy. To make this work, students with disabilities can’t be treated as an afterthought in policy talks that mostly focus on numbers or test results. Parents aren’t asking for special treatment; they just want a real partnership.

When we improve special-education programs, invest in trained professionals, and build structured places where children with disabilities can learn and grow, it helps not just those students but everyone in society. In the end, this isn’t about blaming the state or federal governments. Institutional processes can sometimes hide what parents and students go through every day.

That’s why families need to keep speaking about what their children really need. When policymakers hear directly from them, they can craft better policies that align with what’s happening in classrooms. This issue goes beyond just education policy. At its core, it’s about humanity.

Vailma Roca Fernandez, Alachua

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