The Trump administration recently unveiled the budget for 2020, showing a roughly 10% cut for the Department of Education. I know that such proposals are that, proposals, and that Congress has the discretion over whether to enact into law or not, in accordance with its constitutional role to appropriate money. But too often, political consideration trumps constitutional responsibility and fairness. With too much influence by special interests shaping legislation under the guise of doing the people’s work, many of our elected and appointed public servants make decisions that both contradict our constitutional principles and social values and harm citizens, particularly those who do not help advance their ideological agendas. Thus, the proposed cuts, while subject to Congressional approval, may disproportionately hurt disadvantaged communities and also reflect political calculation at the expenses of justice and democracy.
For all the justificable social media uproar over the now-reversed plan to cut funding to the Special Olympics, little attention has been given to special education. One of the services I personally benefited from that’s now under the knife is the American Printing House for the Blind, whose Braille and tactile materials were instrumental to my academic success but which now would face a reduction of about $5 million.
Another is the Helen Keller National Center for Deaf-Blind Youths and Adults, the nation’s only center providing comprehensive vocational and independent living training to deafblind youths and adults, whose budget would be slashed by $3.2 million, or an almost 25% decrease.
At the same time, the administration is requesting $5 billion in tax credit for companies and individuals that donate scholarship funds for private schools under the pretense of promoting opportunity and access using the disingenuous slogan “Education Freedom” or “School Choice”. But that proposal would entail using taxpayer money to indirectly pay for this credit because there would be $5 billion in lost revenue that could in turn add to the federal budget deficit and perhaps provide a pretext for more cuts to essential services.
But perhaps nothing is more consequential to student success than the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA). While the Education Department is seeking to fund IDEA programs at the same level as FY 2019, it is still considered a cut — and a deep one — because the statute since its enactment in 1975 stipulates that Congress allocate to states 40% of the cost of providing students with disabilities free appropriate public education; at present, only approximately 14% of that mandated cost-sharing is included in the current annual federal budget. But this is not just a problem for the Trump administration to deal with, because Congress has never met IDEA’s funding requirement, not even once providing just 20% of the statutorily required amount. Meanwhile, we have been laser-focused on enforcing all our immigration laws while doing little to improve the quality of an American education for all of our children as required by law.
Even so, much of the debate over immigration is based on unfounded fear that is conveniently exploited by politicians and special interests, cheered on by their allies in the media.
My journey to writing this blog began with IDEA. Having spent my early childhood in a futile quest to attend school or be successfully home-schooled in Eritrea, I immigrated to America.
Not long after I settled into my new home, my mother started the process of enrolling me in one of the public schools in Oakland, CA. After undergoing a battery of medical and other tests to ensure that I qualified for special education services within the Oakland Unified School District, as well as to identify my specific needs, I finally attended my first class that I ever attended in my life at the age of 12. I was enrolled in the Visually Impaired Program (VIP) with other blind students.
My teachers had the difficult task of meeting my needs not only because I was the only deafblind in the VIP classroom, but I also could neither read nor write in any language.
Braille was an alien system of code, the raised dots on a sheet of paper which I initially resisted touching.
I knew that my teacher was at times feeling hopeless. I could feel her growing frustration, but for the most part she clearly seemed undaunted. Weeks had passed before the teacher and her aide began to methodically instruct me in the mastery of Braille coupled with one or two English words at a time. Beyond their own creative teaching strategies, they had the tools, albeit rather limited in quantity and quality, at their disposal that the IDEA provided. While they frequently strained to help me, largely due to their inability to effectively communicate with me, they tapped into resources created by limited IDEA funding, as well as cobbling together lesson plans they funded themselves.
As mentioned above, IDEA plays an essential role in the successful transition from childhood to adulthood of American children with disabilities. But success is far from guaranteed, particularly if IDEA-mandated programs and services continue to be grossly underfunded. Although my teachers went the extra mile to help me navigate the educational jungle, there’s no denying that IDEA enabled them to lead me to where I am today in my journey. Indeed, the VIP program itself came into existence as a result of Congress enacting the IDEA.
Yet, the fact that the whole journey itself involved considerable effort and grit, and that I was never provided with sign language interpreters until way into high school as I was guaranteed under the law, doesn’t mean students are receiving appropriate supports and services.
For instance, the inadequacy of IDEA funding can be largely attributed to my mediocre math proficiency: while I could devour an inordinate amount of Braille books, even if my English was so-so, math learning demanded both acquainting myself with Nemeth Code and effectively communicating with teachers.
Furthermore, every student’s needs are different; hence, what worked for me may not work for others and the consequences of insufficient IDEA funding would have been more severe for other students. Together, these issues provide a clarion call to increase funding for IDEA, as well as updating the law to make it more consistent with today’s classroom and tomorrow’s progress.