色色啦

“We always have to be on guard to make sure she’s not hurting someone,” says the North York mom.

After registration at the local public school, Vaiman told administrators her daughter requires constant supervision. Instead, she says, they enrolled her in a regular mainstream classroom without sufficient support.

It was the beginning of a months-long struggle for a special education placement, one that many Ontario families face as schools strain to support students with different disabilities.

Vaiman explored multiple options 鈥� from schools with autism supports to specialized kindergarten classes 鈥� but they weren’t available for Milana. Despite reassurances from the board, she , contacting trustees, board officials, the ombudsman, even the Ministry of Education, with no resolution.

“A regular classroom is dangerous, for her and also for others,” says the mom. “I cannot take this kind of risk.”

Their story is part of a broader crisis unfolding in Ontario schools 鈥� one that affects students with special needs, their classmates and teachers, too. Parents and advocates say the problem isn’t the presence of kids with special needs in mainstream classes, it’s the lack of support.

As students head back to school, educators and parents warn that a lack of support isn鈥檛 just failing kids who need it, but entire classrooms. At the heart of this is a complex question: How do we best support students with high needs in a system聽that often lacks staffing, funding and resources?

The issue has divided parents of kids with special needs. Some prefer their children to be in smaller specialized classes with trained staff. Others favour inclusion in a regular mainstream class聽鈥� a growing practice by school boards since about 2000 鈥� though system-wide challenges can mean inadequate support.

Meanwhile, parents of children聽鈥� with and without special needs聽鈥� say all kids are affected when mainstream classes turn chaotic because students aren’t properly supported, which can result in behaviour issues and, at times, safety concerns. There may be lessons聽disrupted, kids lashing out violently, classrooms evacuated and teachers stretched to the limit.

All of this is playing out against a backdrop of rising school violence, with students of all kinds acting out for a range of reasons, and a cohort of children still recovering from the pandemic, both emotionally and academically.

This isn’t about students with disabilities being violent people聽鈥� that’s a harmful stereotype, says聽David Lepofsky, chair of the 色色啦 District School Board’s Special Education Advisory Committee (SEAC), made up of members from organizations that represent parents of children with disabilities or special education needs.听

“It鈥檚 unfair and wrong to mislabel it as ‘inclusion’ for a student with disabilities to be assigned to a class without the educational supports they need,” he says. “When any students with disabilities are not having their learning needs met, this hurts them, their classmates, the teaching staff, their families and our society.”

“Wherever you are for your child’s needs聽鈥� inclusion, special class, some combination of the two 鈥� the current system is horribly broken and is underserving tons of kids. That’s not just 色色啦, that’s across the province.”

‘You feel that you’re a burden’

Terms like special needs, disabilities and special education are often used interchangeably, but they don鈥檛 mean the same thing. Special needs is a broad term used informally to describe any need that isn鈥檛 typical, including physical, mental or learning challenges. Disability as defined by the Ontario Human Rights Code 鈥� it protects students from discrimination and ensures they receive accommodations 鈥� broadly covers all physical, sensory, mental health, learning and developmental conditions.

And special education refers to programs and services that support students with a range of learning needs, diagnosed or not.听 if their needs fall into one of five categories: behavioural (includes difficulty getting along with others); communicational (includes autism and speech impairments); intellectual (ranges from giftedness, to mild or developmental disabilities); physical (includes physical disabilities and blindness); and multiple (more than one exceptionality).

Advocates, however, say the categories are dated because they don’t include all disabilities that human rights law protects, excluding students with conditions like ADHD and mental health issues that fall short of behavioural problems. And while special education is often associated with some disabilities, it also includes students who are gifted, many of whom have no disability.

A , published in the spring, shows years of funding cuts and policy changes have left boards unable to provide adequate supports. It notes that as special education needs grow in number and complexity, resources and services have declined; teachers in specialized and mainstream classes feel overwhelmed; and the shift toward inclusion and closure of programs has reduced classroom support, increasing burnout and behavioural issues.听

At the TDSB, ; about 75 per cent are in regular mainstream classrooms, while the remaining 25 per cent are in specialized settings.

Nora Green, who represents on SEAC, opposes a “segregated” model, saying it’s key that students with special needs are supported at their local school. They’re more likely to build connections with people in the neighbourhood聽鈥� and that “dramatically changes people’s lives.”

Plus they learn from their peers, says Green, a retired special education teacher. She recalls a field trip to a grocery store where a mom, who volunteered to help,聽broke down in tears because her son had never behaved so well 鈥� he was copying classmates walking in a line.

A shift toward inclusion

Research shows inclusion , and when supported聽with proper training and resources, they often聽, compared with . 聽can also benefit from teaching strategies that聽.听

The 聽to see how well students are doing. At a board meeting in June, when TDSB staff proposed increasing the size of two different types of special education classes, Trustee Michelle Aarts criticized the “segregation” of students with special needs, especially racialized boys and low-income kids who are disproportionately represented. She noted students in contained specialized classes have lower graduation rates,聽do worse on standardized provincial tests, and the vast majority never return to an inclusive setting.

Leo Lagnado, who represents on SEAC, says both mainstream and specialized classrooms have value, but what matters most is ensuring the right supports.听For聽some students, “smaller specialized classes are actually the only places that they feel comfortable.”

He notes that research shows , with trained educators, predictable routines and sensory-friendly environments聽鈥� and that 聽can induce .

Often, students are included in theory, but isolated in practice. He recalls hearing about an autistic boy, whose teacher didn’t know how to manage his behaviour so聽he sat in the back reading books about cats. “No one would talk to him, no one would include him, he learned absolutely nothing, but hey, he was included because he was sitting there.”聽 聽

Lagnado believes boards are shifting toward inclusion mainly to save money, not because it’s best for students. In boards where intensive support programs have been cut, he says more kids are refusing to go to school. Others are being excluded, with principals asking parents to keep them home due to inadequate supports, or to pick them up early when they act out.听

John Weatherup, president of the 色色啦 Education Workers CUPE Local 4400, which represents support staff at the city’s public schools, says boards often delay formal assessments until Grade 1, fearing early labels 鈥� a decision he argues ignores where the need is greatest.

“If you catch these issues early then it’s less problematic in the later years. If you don’t catch it early, then it becomes a problem you won’t be able to solve,” says Weatherup, adding members say it’s particularly tough getting additional support聽in kindergarten.

He says as more students with needs are integrated into classrooms without the resources, reports from members of classroom evacuations are becoming more common. This is when students are temporarily removed for safety reasons, often because a child is in crisis and acting in a way that could hurt themselves or others. Rather than removing that student, staff may escort the rest of the students out to de-escalate the situation.

Nora Schramek grew desperate for change after her daughter Marilu’s kindergarten class became increasingly chaotic, with a few special needs students frequently acting out.

The longtime parent volunteer loved the school community, but felt she had to leave when Marilu started coming home with daily headaches from the constant classroom noise. It got so bad, Marilu would wear noise-cancelling headphones in class聽鈥� typically used for students with sensory issues, which she doesn’t have.

Schramek wrote to TDSB officials, urging them to find more support staff for the class. When nothing changed, she moved her daughter to another school in March 2025.

Similarly, Amanda Pires was concerned about her daughter’s Grade 2 class last year, which was routinely disrupted by a boy, whose violent outbursts led to classroom evacuations and kids getting hurt. Early on, Pires pushed for more support聽鈥� administrators won’t disclose if a student has special needs for privacy reasons, but Pires said it was evident the boy needed support.

In December, her advocacy ramped up after the boy pushed her daughter Leah to the ground, punched her in the back and pulled her hair during gym class. Days later, he slapped Leah in class.

Pires says she heard from other parents, whose children were in the boy’s classroom last year, that there were similar safety concerns then. In both cases, the board responded only after parent complaints, and only with temporary support. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a short-term Band-Aid solution,鈥� says Pires, noting once the support is pulled, problems return.听

As the school waited for temporary support for the boy, the principal moved Leah to another Grade 2 class. Even after the move, Pires kept writing to board and ministry officials pushing for change, saying that for classrooms to be truly inclusive, consistent and dedicated support is needed.听

The TDSB said in a statement it is “committed to providing equitable access to learning opportunities for all students,” and that if any parents or guardians have concerns about classroom placement for their child, “there is an appeal process to have the decision reconsidered.” The board added it is not able to comment on specific cases due to privacy.

Special education funding shortfall

This summer, Lepofsky, chair of SEAC, wrote to the education minister and the provincial supervisor overseeing the TDSB聽鈥� one of a few boards under provincial control聽鈥� urging them to better meet students’ needs. While more funding is needed, he said, money alone won’t solve the problems. The system must also become easier for parents to navigate because the different placement options, categories and jargon makes it hard to figure out what services and programs exist, how to advocate for their child, where to go when needs aren’t being met, and how to secure the necessary learning supports.

According to the , 71 of the province’s 72 boards last year spent more on special education than they received 鈥� a shortfall of more than $800 million. .

“This is not sustainable, and it should be addressed as a priority by the provincial government,” says Kathleen Woodcock, president of the association, which is calling on the province to work with boards to ensure all students have access to the supports they need.听

For the 2025-26 school year, the province expects to spend $3.85 billion on special education聽鈥� a 31 per cent increase since 2018, says a spokesperson for Education Minister Paul Calandra, noting 10,000 education staff, including more than 4,000 education assistants, have been added to support students.

Back in North York, Vaiman remains concerned about her autistic daughter’s placement for kindergarten. Milana just聽wrapped up an 聽initiative that聽helps autistic children transition to school for the first time. However, she won’t be starting anytime soon.

Vaiman refuses to put her daughter in a mainstream class at the local school, saying it’s not a good fit. The board told her Milana must first be enrolled at the local school before she can be considered for a specialized program 鈥� but the mom worries the process will take too long.

So Milana will stay at home, with her聽stay-at-home mom who relies on support from her parents.

“It’ll be exhausting,” says Vaiman, who may try home-schooling. But she adds, Milana聽“cannot thrive in a regular classroom 鈥� I am not looking just to get rid of her and put her somewhere she shouldn’t be 鈥� She can’t speak, but she can feel.”