Parents of special needs children disappointed by OCDSB integration plan

Parents of special needs children say they are disappointed but not surprised by proposed cuts as Ottawa’s largest school board advances in plans to overhaul elementary programs.

One of the goals of the wide-ranging Ottawa-Carleton District School Board elementary review has been keep as many students as possible in their neighbourhood schools and to integrate more special needs children into mainstream classrooms.

One of the numerous recommendations released last Friday is to phase out five programs for children with special needs. Senior school board staff have argued that specialized programs cut special needs students off from educational opportunities and lower expectations for academic success.

But parents argue that specialized programs create opportunities and they’re fearful the plan will mean disbanding the classes where their children have made learning inroads.

“Being in the same classroom is not integration,” said Jodi Browne, the mother of Sadie van der Molen, 10, who has Down syndrome.

When Sadie first started school, Browne was determined Sadie would be in an integrated class. She changed her mind.

“She spent a lot of time staring into the middle distance. She wasn’t engaged. As she got older, she was really lonely. It was breaking my heart,” said Browne.

Sadie’s school recommended that she move to a primary special needs program for students with a mild intellectual disability. It turned out to be the best thing for Sadie, said Browne.

“She now has friends. She had playdates. She’s a leader in her class. She loves school,” said Browne.

“I would rather put her on the bus for a half hour and know she was accessing quality education.”

Under the recommendations, five special programs would be phased out, including the primary special needs program, which has seven classes with 10 students; the junior general learning program, which has six classes with 16 students; the primary and junior language learning disabilities program, which has 11 classes with 10 students and the junior and intermediate learning disabilities semi-integrated program, which has 14 classes with eight students.

The primary gifted program, which has one class with up to 20 students, is also on the list to be cut.

In total, 39 classes out of the OCDSB’s 142 specialized classes would be affected if the plan goes ahead.

The school board has acknowledged that the changes are a “substantial shift” that will require the reallocation of resources and additional investment supports at school sites.

Some of the additional costs will be offset over time. Closing the five programs means that 42 teachers and 13 education assistants can be “re-invested” over three years. Multidisciplinary team resources will be introduced into schools and classrooms, according to the board.

Meanwhile, the specific number of staff required to support the new model is part of an “ongoing analysis.” The board said it will be investing in professional learning for educators, starting in the next school year.

The changes are not a done deal yet. The plan still has to be approved by trustees. Online consultation began this month, with community meetings in March. Approved changes will be in place in September 2026.

Parents are skeptical there will be additional resources to effectively integrate their children into mainstream classrooms.

Alicia Vrieswyk’s daughter Lexi, 8, has Smith Lemil Opitz Syndrome, a rare genetic condition.

In her primary special needs class, Lexi has learned to read, do basic math and type on a computer, said her mother. “It’s the product of the education and wonderful teachers she has had.”

Vrieswyk can’t see the same resources being stretched in more directions as children are integrated into neighbourhood schools.

There’s already a shortage of special education teachers and education assistants, she said. “How will they do it when there are 400 kids scattered around the school board?”

Vrieswyk started researching private schools last fall because she didn’t think there would be enough resources to allow for Lexi’s needs in a mainstream classroom. Lexi has been enrolled in a private school at a cost of $17,000 a year.

Tia Wathra’s daughter Zara, 6, has called Dravet Syndrome, a rare genetic condition that causes cognitive delay, speech delay and unpredictable seizures. Last May, Landyn Ferris, a 16-year-old with Dravet syndrome, was found unresponsive in a sensory room at Trenton High School.

“She could have a seizure at any time,” said Wathra. “There’s no pattern. It can be exertion. It can be hot, or cold.”

Zara is expected to eventually learn to the level of a seven to 10-year-old, but Wathra sees the gap between her daughter and other children her age widening.

Zara needs one-on-one direction in order to advance, said Wartha. When Zara was in kindergarten she could not pick up a pencil. Now in the primary special needs program, she is learning to spell, using a gluestick and cutting pieces of paper with scissors.

“She doesn’t fit in an inclusive classroom. We want her to have friends. We want her to have a community of people like her. It’s not her peers who are her community,” said Wathra.

Nicole Robert’s eight-year-old son has autism, which means he has difficulty processing sensory information. She can’t take him into Walmart — he gets overwhelmed by the lights and busy places. In kindergarten, he lashed out when he became overwhelmed.

Now in his third year of a small primary special needs class with one teacher and three education assistants, he has learned to regulate his emotions, said Robert. 

“He needs a different way to learn.”

Kate Dudley-Logue, vice-president of community outreach with the Ontario Autism Coalition, said she has concerns that the changes will result in more “exclusions” for children with special needs.

It’s unclear how much time children with special needs spend “excluded” from their classroom — usually after they are unable to control their emotional responses and act out because of noise, lights or some other stimuli.

Excluded students may moved to another location in the school, or a parent is called to pick up their child for a “pause for safety.” For some students, it means hours, days and even weeks outside the classroom.

“It’s hard to wrap your head around why we’re using inclusion as a reason to integrate kids into mainstream classrooms, when we know it will result in more exclusions,” said Dudley-Logue.

Parents say they see bright futures for their children if only they have the right conditions to learn.

Robert says her son wants to be an elevator repairman and has the interest and the aptitude to learn the job. Lexi loves children and animals and her family sees her eventually getting a job. Browne sees Sadie finishing high school and going to college.

“If they did integration in a meaningful way, that model would have potential. But there’s zero in what I have read and heard that this is driving the decision,” said Browne.

“This is being labelled a ‘win’ for inclusion. But it’s not meaningful inclusion. It’s not meaningful for Sadie.”

Wathra said she cried when she heard about the recommendation to close the specialized programs.

“Just to think of all of the struggles she’s had in her life,” she said of Zara. “She can’t even play outside because she had seizures. I thought she had finally caught a break.”

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