Commentaries at the San Antonio Report provide space for our community to share perspectives and offer solutions to pressing local issues. The views expressed in this commentary belong to the author alone.
As a parent of a child with Down syndrome and a longtime advocate for the disability community, I’ve witnessed firsthand the life‐changing impact that strong public special education programs can have on children and their families. I’ve also seen the challenges, the hard‐fought gains, and the tireless work it takes to make inclusion more than just a word on paper. That’s why I’m deeply concerned about the push to implement a state school voucher program in Texas — especially as it relates to students with disabilities.
My son, Dante, is a joyful and curious child who loves learning. He receives special education services through our local public school, including speech therapy, occupational services, adaptive physical education and resource support. His needs are met through an Individualized Education Program (IEP), a legal document that ensures his right to a Free Appropriate Public Education (FAPE) under federal law. Like thousands of other families across Texas, we depend on the structure, accountability and comprehensive support that the public school system provides.
A school voucher program, in theory, promises “choice.” But for families like mine, what looks like choice on paper often amounts to exclusion in practice.
A few years ago, we explored the possibility of enrolling Dante in a private school in San Antonio. We hoped a smaller setting might offer more individualized attention or a different learning environment that could support his growth. But before we could even schedule a visit, the school declined to meet with us.
They told us, flat out, that they didn’t have the staff, training and resources to meet the needs of individuals with Down syndrome, which are outlined in his IEP. They had no special education program, no therapists on‐site and no inclusion model in place. We weren’t asking for anything extra — we simply wanted Dante to have access to the same opportunities as any other child. But the answer was “no.”
There was no conversation, no evaluation, no willingness to collaborate, just a door closed before it ever opened. As a parent, that moment was heartbreaking. It was a clear reminder that even with the promise of choice, families like ours are often excluded from the start.
This is the reality many families of children with disabilities face. Most private schools are not equipped — or obligated — to serve students with significant support needs. Unlike public schools, private institutions are not bound by the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA). They aren’t required to offer IEPs, hire specialized staff or provide therapy services. They can — and often do — deny admission altogether. That’s not real choice.
If we had chosen to use a voucher, we would have had to waive Dante’s legal protections. We would’ve lost the assurance that he’d receive the services he needs to learn and grow. And if the school had failed to meet his needs, we would’ve had no recourse. No due process hearing. No support. The safeguards that protect students with disabilities end where voucher dollars begin.
Supporters of vouchers often claim that parents can “shop around” for the best educational fit. But families like ours don’t have the luxury of shopping. When schools turn you away because your child requires too much support, the illusion of choice quickly disappears.
Meanwhile, public schools, the only system legally required to serve all children, would be left with fewer resources. Special education programs across Texas are already underfunded and understaffed. Diverting state dollars to private institutions will only deepen the crisis, especially in districts that are doing the hard work of inclusion and individualized instruction. When public dollars leave, the resources available to students like Dante simply shrink.
And it’s not just theoretical. In states like Florida, families who accepted special needs vouchers were forced to give up their IDEA rights. In Arizona, audits revealed misuse of voucher funds on non-educational expenses. We can’t afford to repeat these mistakes here. Texas already ranks among the lowest in the nation for per‐pupil spending. We need more investment in our public schools, not less.
Vouchers risk creating a two‐tiered system: one for students whose needs are easy to meet, and another for those who require more support—left behind in an underfunded system with growing demands. That’s not equity. That’s abandonment.
I understand the desire for families to have options. But the solution isn’t to dismantle the one system that’s legally required to serve all children. The solution is to invest in it—to make sure every campus is equipped to support diverse learners, to ensure every educator has access to training and resources, and to make inclusion the norm, not the exception.
Public schools, for all their imperfections, remain our best chance at delivering educational equity. They are the only institutions accountable to the public and required by law to serve every child—regardless of income, ability, or background. That’s a responsibility we should be strengthening, not undermining.
When we talk about vouchers, we must be honest about who benefits and who is left behind. My son and thousands of children like him across Texas deserve more than a promise of choice—they deserve a guarantee of access, support, and inclusion. That is only possible through a well‐funded, accountable, and truly public education system.
I urge lawmakers to listen to the families who rely on these services — not just the ones who can opt out of them. The future of special education in Texas depends on it.
