special education parents are at a loss

Julia Olsheski has spent the last year watching her 7-year-old autistic son lose essential skills.

Her son used to use a fork but now opts to eat with his hands. He is unable to recall words he once knew, like “shirt.” He has violent outbursts, sometimes escalating to self-harm.  

These setbacks are attributed to the loss of learning that Olsheski’s son, among many other special need’s students, has experienced since starting virtual school. School closings during the pandemic have been difficult for many families, but for those with children requiring special education, it has been particularly hard. In-between the chaos of every day, parents are now taking on the roles of teachers, physical therapists, counselors and more.  

“There has been a lot of loss from this pandemic,” Olsheski says with a stern voice, “but my son’s future and prospects and long-term trajectories are absolutely part of that loss.”

New York City’s public schools opened full-time in-person learning in December. But under the current provisions, if a school reports two cases of Covid-19, even in different classrooms, they must close for 10 days and go virtual. Most schools are closed more often than they’re open. 

Olsheski and her husband live in Queens with their 7-year-old and a “gen-ed” 5-year-old. When her boys were in school, she and her husband were able to fulfill their jobs with minimal problems. Her 7-year-old’s school provided a break for her and her husband and gave her son the resources he needs. But virtual learning and work-from-home have blurred the line between work life and home life. 

In an attempt to balance work life and her sons’ schooling, Olsheski and her husband pay for five hours of childcare out-of-pocket. Those five hours are the only opportunity Olsheski has to complete her workday, after that it’s back to parenting. 

There’s no doubt the constant going, going, going has taken a toll on Olsheski. But the most emotionally taxing part of her life is watching her sons struggle through virtual learning. Especially her 7-year-old. Like most kids with special needs, he has a difficult time sitting in front of his tablet for hours on end with little to no physical interaction. He often throws fits, craving the attention and help he received at school in person from his teachers.

The frustration and sadness Olsheski feels from watching her son struggle inspired her to advocate for her son via Twitter. She retweets stories from other parents and tweets about her own experiences in-the-hopes that enough pressure on the Department of Education will change their two case policy. But until that happens, Olsheski’s sons have no choice but to comply with the school’s policy.

“There’s nothing I can do for my kid; I feel like I’m screaming into the wind,” Olsheski says.

Lauren Ross, a single mom to a 7-year-old with Autism Spectrum Disorder, relied on her daughter’s school to allow her to work and run errands. Pre-Covid, Ross could take a day off from work to grocery shop. But becoming her daughter’s teacher and caregiver rarely provides such a break.

“That’s a choice a lot of us are being forced to make, either food on the table and a job or your kid’s education,” Ross says. 

Maintaining her daughter’s education is incredibly important to Ross. She moved to Staten Island for a better special education public school system than what they had in New Jersey. But one year of virtual learning later has Ross second-guessing her decision. Watching her daughter regress has been anxiety-ridden. Without open schools, her daughter does not have access to the trained professionals that can help. 

“Malls are open, come on now,” Ross says, “schools should be a necessity, that should be an essential job.”

The defeat parents like Olsheski and Ross feel has led groups like Advocates for the Children to put more pressure on the Department of Education to create solutions. Recently, the group filed a class-action lawsuit against the Department of Education for failing to provide resources to special education children. 

The Department of Education did not respond to questions regarding the matter in a timely fashion. 

There is hope for some special education children in Covid-19 - those enrolled in private schools. Rikki Hepner has an 8-year-old son with cerebral palsy who attends a private Jewish school. Unlike the city’s public schools, the private school Hepner’s son attends was able to open in-person learning five days a week with social distancing measures. 

            Hepner speaks softly, “When I read other posts, I just feel that we are so fortunate. I think about the children who don’t have the same access.” 

            Stories of families like Olsheski and Ross touch Hepner. She’s aware of the privilege that comes with the financial freedom to afford this option. Private schools are not just a luxury in the pandemic, they’re a guarantee that special-ed children receive the resources promised.