How can segregated special schools still be a choice?

A lack of commitment to ending the binary education system of mainstream and special schooling has once again been justified by the argument of parental choice. Two alternate recommendations made by the Disability Royal Commission regarding the future of special schools leave parents, still, bearing the weight of deciding between two unacceptable schooling options for their children with disability. The vision and ethical leadership that are required to move Australia beyond an educational status quo continue to elude us.  In this post, Dr Glenys Mann revisits her 2022 blog on parental choice and the provision of special schools as an option for students with disability.

School choice is a defining feature of Australian education for many families. When it comes to choosing a school for children with disability, however, it is alarming that, even after a Royal Commission into the abuse and neglect of individuals with disability, segregated special schools remain on the menu, at least for three Commissioners (notably, those who do not have lived experience of disability).

The decision to maintain both mainstream and special schooling options is inconsistent with research evidence on outcomes for students with disability and for their peers, which is clear that genuine inclusion is superior.

The decision is also contradictory to Australia’s obligation to move “as expeditiously and effectively as possible” towards the full realisation of an individual’s right to an inclusive education (CRPD, General Comment No. 4., 2016, para 39). Despite the Disability Royal Commission (DRC) deliberations on its legal status, the spirit of General Comment No. 4 is clear in its expectations that this obligation:

…is not compatible with sustaining two systems of education: mainstream and special/segregated education.

It is worrying that in 21^st century Australia, with our wealth and knowledge, and, particularly, what we now know in detail about the harm that people with disability experience, special schools will continue to exist.

One justification that is often touted for the continuation of special schools is the rhetoric of parental choice. However, the evidence from the DRC is that parents of children with disability do not have viable schooling options to choose from. Parents do not willingly choose an enrolment option that is contrary to policy, legislation, international conventions, and a growing evidence bank about best educational practice for students with disability.

Compelling testimonies at multiple Royal Commission hearings confirm that parents decide on special school enrolments to escape or avoid the rejection, stress, and educational neglect that is possible in mainstream schools that are unprepared for children with disability.

It is understandable that parents want a school where their children are welcome and safe, and it is taken for granted that special schools fill this need.

But do special schools protect children from harm or does the choice between mainstream and special schooling leave parents caught between a rock and a hard place?

Some children with disabilities and their families clearly fear—or are already bearing—the consequences of systemic failures in the mainstream system.

However, parents’ experience tells us that special schools also fall far short of providing the academic achievement, friendship and preparation for life that families want and expect for their children.

While the deliberately detoxified language of “non-mainstream schools” has been used by some Commissioners to downplay the impact of special schooling, evidence presented to the DRC is clear that “segregated” schooling leads to “segregated” pathways when schooling is finished.

Evidence presented at the Disability Royal Commission confirms that special schools serve a useful function in a dysfunctional system in that they provide a pressure valve both for families and for schools. Children with disability and their parents look for reprieve there when enrolment in a hostile mainstream environment becomes too difficult to sustain, and some mainstream teachers gain reprieve when students they might be struggling to include move to special schools and are no longer their responsibility.

The view that special schools are a legitimate response to the trials of inclusive reform loses sight of the devastating impact of segregation on people’s lives. History is forever stained by the extent of abuse and neglect experienced by people with disability in institutionalised settings and we are horrified that practices such as those recorded in Christmas in Purgatory could have ever been condoned.

Yet condoned they were, and even rationalised by professionals who sought to maintain the status quo. The conditions of those times do not equate to our own today, however, the question of how the continued segregation (by whatever name) of our most vulnerable students will be judged by citizens of the future remains all too present.

Deinstitutionalisation reform was well underway by the end of the 20^th century. It is a matter of shame that some commissioners from the DRC, even without seeking evidence from special schools, continue to champion this, one of the last remaining examples of institutionalised thinking.

The DRC findings are clear. Neither mainstream nor special schools offer a genuine choice for parents.

Mainstream schools as they currently exist struggle to consistently provide what parents want. But special schools do not and can never offer an acceptable alternative, not even if co-located with mainstream schools or with programs to occasionally share experiences with non-disabled peers. These are flawed, simplistic suggestions for fixing complex problems and have had little success in the past.

Maintaining a dual system (ostensibly to keep all parents happy) dilutes our efforts for real change and distracts us from the critical work of making an authentic difference in the lives of students with disability.

For many years now we have recognised that a dual system ties up much needed resources and keeps the expertise of our special educators from where they are needed the most: facilitating the meaningful and valued participation of students with disability alongside their brothers and sisters and neighbourhood friends.

More importantly, while special schools exist, they need students to fill them. Increasing numbers of special schools, as reported by the DRC, mean increasing numbers of students on segregated pathways.  The message is very clear that this is the path on which students with disability belong.

Such a vision of how to prevent neglect and abuse and fulfil our moral obligations to these the most vulnerable of our students is short-sighted and reactive. This unwillingness to overhaul an outdated, dual education system keeps us in an endless cycle of review, predictable findings and impotent response, and locks students with disability in a no-man’s land whether they be in mainstream or special schools.

When it comes to avoiding harm and making a positive difference in the lives of children with disability and their future adult selves, our eyes must be firmly on the creation of inclusive schools.

Our hope lies with political and educational leaders who have the vision, creativity and courage to choose door number one: to close segregated settings, embrace the inevitable challenges of systemic transformation, and boldly reimagine schools where all students belong.

We know which way to go from here

Segregated schooling no longer has a place, and mainstream schools as they currently exist will not be enough. We know that schools must be different if they are to welcome all students and support them to thrive. We might not know all the answers yet to such a mighty endeavour, but we do have increasing evidence for the direction we must take. We have school leaders who are already taking us there.

It is time we all step bravely away from the special/mainstream dichotomy and stop laying the consequences of educational inertia on the already weary shoulders of parents of children with disability. This is not a choice they should still be asked to make.

 

Dr Glenys Mann is a Chief Investigator in C4IE’s Inclusion and Exclusion Program. She is a Senior Lecturer in the school of Early Childhood and Inclusive Education at QUT. Her background is in primary teaching, but she has also worked in advocacy and community organisations, and in early childhood and secondary settings supporting the inclusion of students with Down syndrome. Glenys’ research interests include the role of parents in an inclusive education context, the relationship between parents and teachers, and the inclusion of students with intellectual impairment.