Emma Wordsmith
During the summer following middle school, George pleaded with his mother to drive him from their Brooklyn home to Lower Manhattan. He wanted to stroll around Stuyvesant High School, an imposing 10-story structure situated along the Hudson River.
Standing in front of the massive building, he endeavored to envision what it would be like to attend one of New York City’s most esteemed schools.
“I had this preconceived notion of Stuyvesant,” he reminisced about that summer three years ago. “I’ve always been drawn to grand things.” (George and his mother opted for pseudonyms to maintain privacy.)
George participated in gifted and talented programs, thriving in those settings, and seemed like the ideal candidate for Stuyvesant. Despite this, students like him were rarely seen at the school.
George grappled with a learning disability, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). In middle school, his Individualized Education Program (IEP) mandated placing him in a classroom that integrated students with and without disabilities, co-taught by two teachers: a general education or subject specialist, and a special education teacher. Furthermore, he received extra assistance, such as guided notes and specialized counseling, to aid him in staying organized and developing strategies to focus on tasks.
The necessary accommodations for George would complicate his aspirations of attending Stuyvesant.
In the city’s eight specialized high schools that rely solely on an exam for admission, students classified with disabilities represent a drastically low percentage of the population, significantly below the citywide high school average. The specialized high schools rank near the bottom in terms of accommodating students with disabilities, based on Department of Education data from the 2022-23 school year.
Part of this disparity can be attributed to the specialized schools not being mandated to reserve seats for students with disabilities. Over several decades, these schools have actively and passively dissuaded students with learning disabilities from enrolling, as per advocates, parents, and legal complaints filed on behalf of students. Data from the Education Department revealed that at certain specialized high schools, students with disabilities comprised barely over 1% of the total population.
Across all city high schools, one out of every five students requires special education support under an IEP. However, at specialized high schools, this figure stands at one out of every 50 students.
For the handful who do gain admission, some families narrate their struggles in securing legally mandated accommodations from school officials. They find it challenging to cope in an environment characterized by rigorous workloads and high standards.
Despite multiple requests for comments, teachers and administrators at specialized high schools declined to offer their insights.
“The admission criteria for these schools are prescribed by state law,” stated Education Department spokesperson Nathaniel Styer, refraining from addressing specific accusations. “If a student has services outlined in their IEP, those services are provided. If they do not have these services on their IEP, they are not entitled to them.”
While the lack of racial diversity at specialized high schools is usually blamed on the Specialized High School Admissions Test (SHSAT), it has also hindered access for students with disabilities. According to a June 2024 Independent Budget Office analysis of 2021 data requested by , students with IEPs were three times less likely to take the SHSAT compared to their peers without disabilities. Additionally, the acceptance rate disparity was stark, with test takers with disabilities being 11 times less likely to receive an offer than their non-disabled peers, reflecting a mere 0.6% acceptance rate.
Out of the over 3,600 students admitted to the eight specialized high schools, only 80 eighth graders with disabilities secured admission. Last year’s data painted a more dismal picture, as only 76 students received offers to specialized high schools, based on information obtained through a public records request.
Before the deadline for high school decisions, George’s parents engaged in a meeting with Stuyvesant’s assistant principal for special education and a social worker. The parents felt pressured to remove co-teaching from George’s IEP during the encounter. The school administrators argued that many Stuyvesant students typically outgrow these accommodations. Moreover, upon learning that George had been accepted to another institution, they hinted that he might fare better there.
“We sensed trouble on the horizon,” expressed Elizabeth. “It felt like there was a culture of denial: If you’ve made it to Stuyvesant, you must not require support.”
Nevertheless, George’s mother persisted. George became the initial student at Stuyvesant to partake in classes co-taught with a special education teacher. Both special education instructors on staff had to juggle classes and teach various subjects throughout the school day.
Throughout this process, as George embarked on his freshman year at Stuyvesant, he maintained hope for his future at the school.
In 2012, the city introduced a policy to allocate seats for students with disabilities at competitive high schools employing GPAs and other assessment metrics. Within a brief span, not only did the number of students with disabilities grow, but access to co-teaching classes and special education support classes became more prevalent at these elite schools.
However, this policy exemption extended to specialized high schools.
The limited presence of students with disabilities also reflects in the specialized high schools’ budget allocations. Based on school budget records acquired from the Education Department, specialized high schools allocate significantly less funding towards special education compared to other schools. Owing to the need-based nature of city funds for special education, a lower number of students with disabilities translates to reduced funding for hiring teachers and providing services.
Bronx Science possesses only one dedicated special education instructor, while Stuyvesant has merely four, as per budget data. These figures come despite both schools serving approximately 3,000 students. In contrast, schools with similar student counts, such as Bayside High School or Susan E. Wagner High School, each boast 30 or more special education instructors. Smaller selective schools like Beacon (around 1,500 students) and Townsend Harris (about 1,300 students) have 14 and 20 special education specialists, respectively.
In the previous academic year, out of the 18,000+ students at specialized high schools, a mere 76 students had co-teaching listed in their IEPs, and 108 participated in special education support classes, per DOE data from a freedom of information request.
According to families and advocates, several school officials have rejected the provision of co-teaching classes. Additionally, some schools attempt to persuade parents to eliminate sections of their child’s IEP, or prolong discussions in the hope of parents relenting or opting for a different educational institution.
Advocate Jenn Choi, who has represented parents in IEP meetings at multiple specialized high schools, asserts that it is simpler for administrators to urge students to remove costly accommodations from their IEPs or dissuade them from attending the school altogether.
“We must remember that students aren’t demanding lower standards. They seek access,” Choi highlighted. “These students simply require alternative teaching approaches.”
Given the constrained funds for special education, specialized high schools might need to redirect resources from other programs to hire adequate staff for supporting special education efforts. Choi contended that with the current funding model, the issue will persist.
“‘It was a sudden dose of reality for him,'” recalled Maria Torres Quiles, whose son was informed by Brooklyn Tech special education educators in 2019 that they would not furnish co-teaching services. “‘He was completely shattered,'” she added.
Opting not to engage in a battle with Brooklyn Tech for services, Quiles chose to enroll him at Manhattan’s NEST+m High School, another competitive institution, instead.
Following a stroke in 2019 while still in middle school, Sandra Cheng’s daughter, a recent graduate of Stuyvesant with an IEP, lost her ability to read and speak, coupled with paralysis in half of her body. Despite the debilitating experience, she accepted an offer from Stuyvesant before her stroke.
During the initial year of the COVID pandemic lockdown, Cheng supported her daughter by reading and writing for her at home.
Upon her daughter’s return to in-person classes, educators began challenging or disregarding the accommodations outlined in her IEP. Some Stuyvesant officials suggested that her daughter withdraw and have the Department of Education cover the expenses for private special education. Others insinuated that seeking accommodations amounted to cheating or gaming the system.
Cheng, an alumna of Stuyvesant herself, attributed the resistance from teachers to a broader cultural issue at the school. She believed that in an attempt to maintain high standards, teachers exhibited inflexibility and expected students to match the rigorous pace.
Nonetheless, Cheng observes a gradual shift at Stuyvesant. Parents of children with disabilities have united within the broader parent association, advocating for collective changes. The school recently appointed a new assistant principal for special education.
While Cheng’s daughter navigated school life post-stroke, George embarked on his freshman year, encountering uneven adherence to his IEP from different teachers, as per Elizabeth.
Elizabeth described George’s initial year as a cycle of burnout followed by frantic efforts to catch up. George struggled to maintain a high enough GPA for admission to a top-tier college. Initially engaging in various clubs, he soon had no time beyond schoolwork, averaging around four hours of homework nightly, yet still falling behind.
Simultaneously, Elizabeth expressed being pressured by Stuyvesant officials in IEP meetings to reduce George’s support.
By the end of his freshman year, George lost his sense of optimism when facing school each day.
Returning for his sophomore year, George continued to grapple, leaving him and his mother drained. The thought of enduring three more years of continuous conflicts with administrators and teachers felt like “trench warfare,” as George described it, devoid of an emotional payoff.
In the fall of 2022, he bid farewell to his teachers and peers, deciding to drop out midway through the semester.
George’s family possessed the financial resources for an alternative outside the public school system, a privilege not accessible to many. (For privacy reasons, the family opted not to disclose George’s current institution.)
After George’s departure from Stuyvesant, Elizabeth lodged a civil rights complaint against the school with the U.S. Department of Education, currently under review.
However, the resolution might take a while. A separate Office of Civil Rights complaint against Brooklyn Tech from 2021 still awaits adjudication. The suit alleges that officials unlawfully delayed or denied students’ IEP evaluations, as per Miriam Nunberg, an attorney who filed a joint lawsuit on behalf of five families.
George expressed pride in attending Stuyvesant.
Nevertheless, “I never truly felt welcomed there.”
Brendan Rose is a journalist based in New York City. He attended the Bronx High School of Science and reported this narrative while enrolled at Columbia University’s Graduate School of Journalism.
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