Principals as Co-Advocates for Caregivers of Children With Disabilities: Possibilities and Realizations Beyond IDEA’s Collaborative Ideal

Abstract

Although special education and its legal provisions under the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) were designed to support all children with disabilities, it has created a litigious and bureaucratic environment that further marginalizes disabled and labeled children of color and their families. Falling short of a collaborative ideal, school principals who can serve pivotal roles are often siloed from the rest of the school team, often lack special education knowledge and training beyond procedural matters, and can perpetuate inequities through their actions or inactions. We present a scenario illustrating the challenges and possibilities for school principals to promote equitable transformation through (a) an equitable, active leadership role, (b) embodying systemic equity commitments using intersectionality as praxis, (c) moving beyond school and district compliance, and (d) a co-advocacy role with families.

Introduction and Context

Among the first topics we teach in our education courses for preservice teachers are the history and foundations of special education laws, which mandated that public schools open their doors to children with disabilities. Similar to the ways in which we intentionally embed these fundamentals into our teaching for preservice teachers, the National Educational Leadership Preparation Standards require both “ethical and legal decision making” and an application of the “knowledge, skills, and commitments necessary to develop and maintain a supportive, equitable, culturally responsive, and inclusive school culture” (National Policy Board for Educational Administration, 2018). Scholars have described how school leaders not only engage special education policies but can also serve as critical agents in ensuring that special education laws are faithfully implemented. Yell and colleagues (2018) emphasized how administrators must leverage both a deep understanding of decisions at the federal and local level and their impact on schools, while also ensuring that special education laws are upheld in practice (e.g., students’ access to a free and appropriate public education and meaningful collaboration with families). Furthermore, in ensuring equity and access, Pazey and Cole (2013) conceptualized a role for school administrators as “socially just” leaders in special education, accountable for all students within their purview (p. 247). Central to these conversations is P.L. 94-142, enacted in 1975 as the Education for All Handicapped Children Act (EHA) and now reauthorized under the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA, 2004).

It would be ahistorical, however, if we discuss this key piece of legislation and integrate into our narrative without giving an explicit overview of its segregated and exclusionary sociopolitical context. Certainly, the advocacy for equitable access to education for Black children in Brown v. Board of Education (1954) inspired a number of disability-specific court cases (e.g., PARC v. the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania [1972]) which were instrumental in the creation of the field of special education and its legislative protections. Although this legal context is foundational for understanding the inequities that have persisted in the educational landscape even before the passage of IDEA, a comprehensive understanding of inequities requires more than a cursory review (Blanchett, 2010). Such discussion also foregrounds a deeper discourse on (a) examining the role of administrative leadership, (b) embodying systemic equity commitments using intersectionality as praxis, (c) moving beyond school and district compliance, and (d) reconceptualizing advocacy through a co-advocacy role with families to better serve students.

To illuminate these considerations, in this case study, we present the narrative of an Indigenous and Black student who meets IDEA eligibility under the disability category of emotional and behavioral disturbance and has just moved to a new school district with his mother. Highlighted throughout this case, we reference a key provision of IDEA legislation—20 USC 1401(9)—which defines a free appropriate public education for students, recognized as FAPE. All students with disabilities are entitled to receive a FAPE until they have completed their diploma or are no longer deemed eligible. This case illustrates the need for a critical and nuanced examination of FAPE in practice, particularly for multiply marginalized students and families; even as school personnel remain compliant with the more overt legal mandates of IDEA, they may still be complicit in the discrimination and exclusion of disabled students of color and their families. This case study also underscores the timely, critical role of principals as equitable leaders, who go beyond procedural adherence and the rubrics of school culture to live and embody social justice leadership through their actions and interactions. We call on the reader to pay particular attention to the discourse and nuances, underscoring the gap between the intent and implementation of IDEA.

Speaking Truths: Advocacy in the Field of Special Education

Much of the historical literature on the advocacy leading to the establishment of the legal framework of IDEA highlights the efforts of parent advocates, whose disabled children were excluded from public school spaces (Turnbull & Turnbull, 2015). Parents contested the historical and systemic dehumanizing views of disabled children as inferior and less deserving of access to education as a public good, thereby violating their civil rights (Harry & Ocasio-Stoutenburg, 2020). Decades of discrimination and exclusion situated families of disabled children on the margins of society, while school structures left little room for these students who were perceived as less worthy or deserving of an education. Even with the establishment of IDEA and the field of special education, caregivers foresaw the need to be involved in the decision-making processes for their children, envisioning themselves as collaborators.

Certainly, the parents who were instrumental in the establishment of IDEA were visible and celebrated advocates, carving out a place of belonging for their children while setting down the scaffolding for school partnerships. Special education research, however, reveals important truths about the more nuanced advocacy history. One is that the parents whose efforts have been highly recognized in the parent advocacy movement were White and middle class (Mayes, 2023). While some researchers often attribute this phenomenon to their perceived social and cultural capital, asserting that these parents had the “means” and “access” to advocate, several researchers have highlighted both the constraint and the erasure of parents of color, as well as parents with fewer financial resources (Harry & Ocasio-Stoutenburg, 2020; Ong-Dean, 2009).

A second truth is the recognition of the myriad ways that disabled children of color have been failed in schools. Inequity persisted within public school spaces post Brown, and under IDEA, most profoundly for Black and Brown students (Annamma et al., 2013). Black and Brown students have endured reduced educational opportunities and tracking, disproportionate referrals into special education services, the overrepresentation in the subjective categories of intellectual disability and emotional disturbance, and harsh punitive treatments (Harry & Klingner, 2022; Tefera & Fischman, 2024). The third truth about advocacy calls for a recognition of interest convergence (Bell, 1980), meaning the very cause to secure supports for disabled children in schools failed to address the priorities of Black and Brown families (Artiles, 2011; Blanchett, 2010). In the pursuit of special education legislation, Black and Brown parents noted how the concerns for the well-being of their children were minimized in the process, as described by Mayes (2023):

Black and brown students received the short end of the legislative stick, arguably left out of the policy looking in. In essence, educational disability rights used Black and brown constitutional claims to augment the boundaries of democracy for itself only to allow the legislative gates to close on black and brown special education students (p. 161).

Although collaboration is generally conceptualized as a shared partnership with implied shared and equal power, several special education researchers have found this to be merely a theoretical ideal under IDEA that does not translate into practice, particularly for families of color caring for disabled children (e.g., Fenton et al., 2017). Studies have revealed long-standing perceptions of families of color as uninvolved and divested from their children’s education (Brantlinger et al., 2005). In addition, the act of advocacy in special education can be both adversarial and litigious, constructed by the legal framing, as well as the expectation for caregivers to navigate a technocratic and legalistic terrain (Bacon & Causton-Theoharis, 2013). Undoubtedly, this further privileges parents whose social and cultural capital are congruent with school personnel’s definitions of “involved parents” (Ong-Dean, 2009). Members of all school teams, including school leaders, may all be complicit in subjecting families to further marginalization.

Intersectionality as a Phenomenon and Tool

The history of special education legislation and advocacy presented above exposes the need to examine how power and oppression are operationalized within its structures, particularly for multiply minoritized families (Annamma et al., 2013; Mayes, 2023). Considering how decades of research studies have revealed profound inequities experienced by disabled youth of color, intersectionality is a critical lens for exposing these inequities. Intersectionality can be understood as (1) a phenomenon, and (2) as an analytical framework to advance both critical and nuanced understandings. Conceptualized and explicitly defined through Black feminist epistemology, intersectionality describes a phenomenon wherein individuals holding multiple racialized, disability, gender, and other historically marginalized social identities often endure compounded oppressions at the macrolevel, resulting in experiences of magnified marginalization at the microlevel (Collins, 2019; Crenshaw, 1991, 2017). Connected to discriminatory ideologies that are both historical and systemically entrenched, intersectionality as a phenomenon is highly consequential, with material and generational impacts.

While intersectionality was originally understood through the contributions of Black women intellectuals and activists (e.g., Angela Davis, Audre Lorde, and The Combahee River Collective) to name and recognize the experiences of Black women encountering racism and sexism in tandem, it can be applied toward individuals experiencing a number of concurrent discriminatory ideologies, for example, racism and ableism. Since its conceptualization as a term, intersectionality has also been used as an analytical frame, highlighting system-level inequities that result in overt and nuanced violence toward people who are multiply marginalized. In her renowned critique of the legal system’s repudiations of cases among Black women who reported workplace discrimination, critical legal scholar Crenshaw (1989) not only identified the phenomenon of intersectionality but also employed it as an analytical framework. Indeed, her operationalizing of the term drew recognition to the court’s reductive responses to these women’s claims, where they acknowledged only one type of discrimination rather than racialized and gender discrimination occurring in tandem.

Similar to Crenshaw’s attention to the court system’s failures to recognize and remedy intersectionality, the legal framing of IDEA in special education was also never structured to recognize intersectionality as a phenomenon, nor use it as a tool, as it focused on a singular axis (access to education and services for students with disabilities). The presumption that equitable outcomes would follow the codification of student and parental rights failed to account for the multiple ways in which disabled students of color would continue to experience harm within school settings (Mayes, 2023). Several education researchers, however, have employed intersectionality and other anti-oppressive frameworks, turning their focus to the confluential impacts of racism, ableism, and other discriminatory ideologies in special education. Through Black feminist epistemology, Boveda (2024), for example, has contributed substantially to the field of special education, employing intersectionality to both interrogate the field of special education and better prepare its educators. As such, she has co-developed frameworks to support teachers in developing a lens of intersectionality for their practice. Annamma, Connor, and Ferri (2013) drew from intersectionality, Disability Studies in Education, Critical Legal Studies, and Critical Race Theory to develop DisCrit, or Disability Critical Theory. DisCrit accounts for the social construction of race and ability, the implications of these socially constructed labels, the related role of power and privilege, as well as the concurrent effects of racism and ableism. Intersectionality frameworks are essential for interpreting the complexities and nuances of the scenario we will present.

Positionality

This scenario is inspired by our professional and personal experiences. Author 1 is a Black woman of Puerto Rican ethnicity, and a special education researcher preparing future special education teachers and education researchers. In a consultative role, she has not only served as an advocate for disabled students navigating the foster care system in one of the nation’s largest school districts, but she also advocates as a parent to her disabled Black son. Author 2 is a queer Black woman of Puerto Rican ethnicity who is a former special education and general education teacher. She works as a strategic consultant for organizations and leaders on issues of diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging as they intersect with law, education, and gender-based violence. Author 3 is queer, White woman who is a critical scholar of law and education with a background in special education advocacy, expertise in federal civil rights enforcement, and experience as an IDEA complaint investigator.

The Case Narrative

In August of 2020, Ms. McCluskey, a middle-aged White woman, was appointed as the new principal at Soaring Heights High School (SHHS). Prior to accepting this position, Ms. McCluskey had served in many roles within the school district and at school sites, including general education teacher, assistant principal (in a nearby district), and middle school principal (within the same district). The student demographics of SHHS were reported as 74% White, 14% Asian or Pacific Islander, 8% Black, and 4% multiracial/other. At the beginning of the 2021–2022 school year (SY), Soaring Heights School district adopted a new policy that outlined its commitments to equity, diversity, inclusion, and anti-racism. Although Ms. McCluskey had no prior experience with incorporating equity ideals into a schoolwide policy, she expressed her support for these changes with her school staff, as well as her personal commitment toward becoming a more equitable school leader.

SHHS and other local school districts had an active “school choice” program, making it common for students to transfer between districts. In the early summer of SY 2022-23, the mother of a rising ninth-grade student in a nearby district, Ali Warren, a woman of color, heard about the equity initiatives from a White mother whose child attended SHHS. She and her son Xavier recently moved within the SHHS school district. Ali immediately reached out to SHHS to request a meeting with Ms. McCluskey and the school’s special education staff. She wanted to discuss the possibility that her son, Xavier, might be enrolling in the school. The staff was responsive and scheduled a meeting shortly after the call.

Ali walked into the school, which was quiet. While waiting, she looked at the artwork and photos that adorned the school walls, looking for anything that might resonate with Xavier or represent their culture. Suddenly, her gaze was interrupted by McCluskey and a member of the administrative staff, who greeted her with a smile and handshake. Ms. McCluskey apologized that there were no teachers or other school personnel available to meet during the summer months, although she reassured her that they were all like a school family. Ali hoped this was true, as it was in the back of her mind that not a single student on those walls looked like Xavier.

Ms. McCluskey invited Ali to tell them more about Xavier, while her assistant took copious notes. She described her son as a Black and Indigenous young man who wears his hair in a ponytail that reaches the top of his shoulder blades. She shared that he loves everything outdoors, such as fishing and hiking, as well as winter sports like snowboarding and skiing. Ali noted that while Xavier, like many other youth this age, does not particularly enjoy reading for classwork, he does enjoy leisure reading. He has recently taken an interest in reading about different outdoor adventures, especially since he has not had the opportunity to participate in them since their move to the new area. Ali also explained that in SY 2021–2022 at his prior school, Xavier met the eligibility for emotional and behavioral disturbance (EBD). Xavier received special education services in the general education setting at his former school, which included curricular accommodations, assistance from a paraprofessional as needed, and age-appropriate behavior supports, as outlined in his Behavioral Intervention Plan (BIP). Specifically, the previous school’s use of culturally responsive positive behavioral interventions and supports helped Xavier to manage some of his escape responses to anxiety-inducing situations by helping him to understand his environmental triggers and self-regulate. Although he experienced success in this environment, Ali expressed her worries that the transition to high school in his home district would not be a good one. Ms. McCluskey reassured her of the excellent teachers and resources at SHHS. She also mentioned her commitment to the district’s new equity policy. Hearing this from the principal was reassuring to Ali. Following the meeting, she decided to enroll Xavier, beginning in the fall of SY 2022–2023.

The SY 2022–2023 started off strong without any issues. However, in the late fall, Ali started to notice a difference in Xavier. Although Xavier’s academic performance was generally sound, meeting grade-level expectations, he was struggling with peer relationships. Xavier reported being bullied by other students, mocked for his appearance (specifically for his hairstyle), and because of his need for special education services. Several teachers and school staff members dismissed Xavier’s claims against his peers as, “Just boys having fun,” while also reprimanding him for not making a better attempt to fit in with his peers. Some of these confrontations had become physical, with his White peers shoving and throwing Xavier’s belongings when no one was there to witness. As a result of these experiences, Xavier had developed significant anxieties about going to school. He shared with his mother and his school counselor that he was feeling unmotivated and disinterested in many things that he previously enjoyed. Xavier also shared this with Mr. Brown, someone that he trusted, who happened to be a teacher of color. Ali was growing increasingly concerned as his school attendance dropped precipitously.

Xavier’s attendance issues had also drawn the attention of school and district personnel. Although most of the phone calls about his truancy came from Ms. McCluskey, who was generally supportive and empathetic, Ali received a more recent communication from the district truancy office. She was appalled at being asked if she was “truly committed to Xavier’s educational success” by “allowing” these absences, suggesting that this was a result of a deficiency in her parenting. Ali was also contacted by the Exceptional Student Education (ESE) coordinator, Ms. Lee, who expressed concern, asking how she could support them. Ali had never met Ms. Lee in person, as she was not present for the IEP meeting at SHHS held earlier in the year. Ms. Lee then called to ask Ali to informally meet with her at the school, in hopes that they could find a solution.

When Ali arrived at the meeting, she was greeted by Ms. Lee, a White woman with dark hair who shook her hand firmly. Ms. Lee was joined by Mr. Brown, a tall Black man wearing a sports polo with the school logo, and Mr. Ryan, a White male wearing a security officer’s uniform. Although Ali had never met Ms. Lee or Mr. Ryan, she found it odd that they did not introduce themselves, as everyone seemed eager to get on with the meeting. Ms. Lee seemed concerned at first about how Ali was feeling, speaking in a low tone and soft voice. Ali began expressing her worries about Xavier’s changes in behavior, as well as her frustrations about the lack of communication regarding him being bullied:

I know we have already had his IEP meeting, which we scheduled as soon as we got here, so thank you, Ali said. But I am wondering if we could have a talk about how you are going to handle this bullying situation. This can’t continue, I am worried about my son. It is impacting his success. He is on track for college.

Just then, the door opened, and Ms. McCluskey walked in. The noise of her keys and walkie talkie was enough to startle everyone, cutting the conversation short. Her expression indicated that she was frustrated, as she had asked Ms. Lee several times to reschedule this meeting so that she could be present. Ms. McCluskey was also alarmed to see who Ms. Lee had invited from the school team, as none of his teachers or related personnel were present. In addition, she scanned the room to see that Xavier was noticeably absent. “Is everything okay?” Ms. McCluskey asked. Speaking very nervously, Ms. Lee continued:

Yes, of course, Ms. McCluskey. Umm, Ms.Warren, I think we can get to your concerns. I just had some questions and wanted to see if we can get to his problems. . .well, his maladjustment. We know it’s a change for you–for him–because of . . .what’s it called. . .‘culture shock’? But we just want to make sure Xavier is feeling comfortable here. This is a good school, nice community.

Ali began to notice the checklist Ms. Lee had on her clipboard. She had not been taking notes at all, but was checking off some things as Ali was speaking. Ms. Lee continued to speak:

And also, we are quite concerned about attendance. He is over the allowable excused and unexcused absences. So. . .from here, this means that we may have to go to a hearing and. . .well, we don’t want it to get to that.

Just then, Mr. Ryan interrupted:

I gotta go back and check up on another situation. But I just wanted to let you know that I’ve had to break up several situations, ma’am, that your son was involved in. I’m the school resource officer. And he was definitely not innocent, I’ll tell you that. The fact that he has a BIP shows that he has a history of behavioral issues so this shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.

Ali was struck by the resource officer’s suggestions and began to question, “What do you mean? Are you suggesting my child is in the wrong for speaking up for himself when he is being bullied? Especially if no one is doing anything about it–”

Interrupting Ali’s questioning, Mr. Ryan persisted in a condescending tone, saying, “Ma’am, like Ms. Lee here said, these are good folks. I went to high school with some of these kids’ parents, okay. Now I get this is new for y’all, but–”

Pointing in the direction of Mr. Brown, Ms. McCluskey then interjected, “Mr. Brown. . .is there something you were adding to this conversation?” Mr. Brown cleared his throat and repositioned himself:

Actually, I was wondering why I was here. But I just want to say I have Xavier for PE and he has a lot of talent. He’s a good kid, I don’t have any problems with him. Now I can’t say the same for the other kids in that class, if they could leave him alone. He has been talking to me about how some of these things have been affecting him. He said it makes him not want to come to school, and feels like nobody believes him. I believe him. I see it. I shared all of this with Ms. McCluskey a while ago as well.

Nervously, Ms. Lee began looking through some documents, commenting, “I have testimonies from other students and their parents.” Ali began to feel as if the walls were caving in. She immediately asked for her son to be present so that he could speak for himself. While everyone else remained silent, Mr. Brown responded, adding he was sure he would be able to find him. Just as he began to get up, Ms. Lee cleared her throat and began to announce:

Well, that won’t be necessary, I don’t think. We can just move ahead, we have enough input here, Ms. Warren. We have a wonderful new policy our district has rolled out, with a lot of great changes, including making sure our students are supported in the best environment possible. We care about all of our students. So we’d like your signature here to proceed with a new behavior evaluation. I believe we can avoid the truancy paperwork if you get some notes, Ms. Warren. Ms. McCluskey can probably override the absences, but–

Ali interjected:

My question is, why are we focusing on his behavior and not the other students? He is performing well academically. He is smart. He helps out at home, he volunteers in our church. He’s also very talented, did you know that?

Looking directly at Ms. Lee, who was nodding nervously, Ms. McCluskey began to ask, “Is this true? I know we have been understaffed. . .it’s so hard to get everyone together. Ms. Warren, I do apologize.” Ms. Lee then cleared her throat, stacked the papers before repositioning them on the table directly in front of Ali, and gently placed a pen on top. Without making eye contact with Ms. McCluskey or Ali, she redirected, “Well if you just sign here, Ms. Warren, we won’t proceed without your permission. And I assure you this is just for the evaluation so we can get going.”

Sensing something was terribly wrong, Ali reluctantly signed the document for Xavier’s behavior evaluation to be revisited. Ms. McCluskey handed her contact card to Ms. Warren, reassuring her that they would take care of everything. Within a month, Xavier’s depression and lack of desire to attend school magnified. During that time, Ali also received a confidential note home from Mr. Brown that simply stated “I haven’t seen X.” A few days later, she received the notification for a meeting at the school.

This time, Ms. Lee made sure to coordinate the meeting with Ms. McCluskey’s schedule. She also provided her with the documentation ahead of time. Although Ms. McCluskey researched and consulted with other administrators to confirm that all of the events that had transpired were legal, she questioned whether the intended outcome of this meeting was ethical. Since Ms. Lee had always positioned herself as “veteran ESE coordinator,” commenting that she had “done this for years,” she certainly had the expertise, Ms. McCluskey thought. However, she began to suspect that Ms. Lee, invoking the help of others, including herself, might actually be using the procedures to push out the only disabled Indigenous student in the school, as well as his mother. She considered whether or not their dismissals of Xavier being bullied was a part of them protecting other students or whether it would frustrate Xavier’s mother enough that she would withdraw him from the school. Although e Ms. McCluskey was less familiar with the details of special education procedures, she questioned Ms. Lee’s reasons for revisiting the behavioral evaluation, since his BIP was in place and effective. She wondered whether Ms. Lee’s seeming competence was clouding her own judgment about her ethical decisions.

There was another part that was even more unsettling for Ms. McCluskey. Had she imagined the microaggressions she observed in the meetings by Ms. Lee and Mr. Ryan? She recalled the words they used to describe the students and school as “nice community” and “good folks” and how these contrasted with “culture shock,” “maladjustment,” and “not innocent,” to describe Xavier. Although she was taught to be mindful of these behaviors from the diversity, inclusion, and anti-racism trainings she attended, it was so hard for her to recognize them when they happened. Why didn’t she see them until now? Ms. McCluskey was faced with a dilemma: while the ultimate decisions of the school team seemed to contradict everything she learned, and was now committed to, she was unsure of how to intervene.

Ali walked into the school meeting alone, with nearly 14 school personnel in the room, most of whom she had never met. Ms. McCluskey was present, as was Xavier this time, who felt overwhelmed by all the faces in the room. A few members of the school staff proceeded to run off a litany of concerns about Xavier’s behavior, including a recent evaluation from a psychologist, who suggested that Xavier’s needs could not be supported in his current school setting, as he would likely continue to “struggle” to adjust. Ali fell silent, listening in shock at what she was hearing, with the increasing awareness that decisions seemed to have already been made. Ms. Lee encouraged Ali to look for other educational options to “better meet his needs.” Ali pleaded for help, “Someone, please. You cannot do this. This does not solve the problem! My son is not the problem!” Several school staff members shook their heads, with some mumbling comments as they exited:

“See, I told you, they always get it from the parents.”

“Good riddance, we don’t need this kind of trouble.”

Ms. McCluskey stood and watched in disbelief at what had just transpired. The events confirmed some of the suspicions she had about her team. However, she felt powerless, questioning whether or not it was too late to remedy this situation.

Teaching Notes

Through this case, multiple themes emerge that implicate professional norms, systemic inequities, and the nature of special education law. As teaching notes, we highlight the role of the principal in special education, embodying commitments to equity and the power of intersectionality as a framework or lens to view inequities, and the importance of moving beyond compliance. We finish with a proposed reconceptualization of advocacy as a co-constructed model.

Teaching Note 1: The Role of the Principal in Special Education

Education leaders have a critical role in the implementation of special education processes and procedures (Pazey & Cole, 2013). Leaders can be pivotal in fostering collaborations among school teams (Ishimaru, 2019a, 2019b), while also promoting equitable measures and outcomes (e.g., assessments and access to opportunities). In fact, there are school leaders who are doing important work to promote equity for disabled students (e.g., DeMatthews, 2021). A qualitative study by DeMatthews (2021), for example, described how two elementary school principals promoted a culture of change at their schools toward inclusion for students with disabilities, fostered through systems-level thinking. Researchers have noted, however, that emerging and practicing school leaders are provided with procedural aspects of special education, yet little attention is given to the holistic support needed to promote the success and well-being of students with disabilities (Billingsley et al., 2018). Furthermore, scholars have emphasized how the role of the principal is often perceived through a managerial perspective rather than a leadership perspective, with missed opportunities for effective change (Boscardin, 2005). Overall, there are some features of special education that principals should know to lead equitably:

• Special education was developed within a system and historical context that found disabled children to be ineducable and unbelonging. Public schools were not initially designed to support students with disabilities (DeMatthews, 2021).

• A deficit view of disability locates the “problem” of disability within the child. IDEA, however, relies on the deficit model of disability, while also operating from a “race-neutral policy approach” to address complex issues (Kramarczuk Voulgarides, 2018, p. 4).

• Families are on the receiving end of their children’s diagnoses, labels, and placement decisions, subject to the determination of the experts. They often feel compelled to defer to professionals’ assessments in order for their children to receive needed supports and services (Kittay, 2019).

• School administrators are themselves situated and operating within the rubrics of the broader school district and local community contexts (Kramarczuk Voulgarides, 2018).

• School leaders often lack the special education preparation training and skills to support students and collaboration with families (Weiler & Lomotey, 2022).

• School principals and other leaders may hold a deficit view of families, lack skills in culturally responsive and restorative practices, and may engage in direct and indirect actions that harm students (Khalifa et al., 2016).

• School administrators are often siloed from instructional staff and other school personnel (DeMatthews et al., 2021).

While school leaders may be personally invested in equity, or support top down decisions that promote equity at the surface level, they may not understand or recognize existing inequities let alone engage in equitable practices that counter inequity. The actions of a school leader may also be indirect and complicit when a school is unwilling to completely adopt a building-wide or district-wide commitment to equity, or a leader’s actions may be direct and reflective of personal biases, which are just as consequential. Despite Ali’s continuous advocacy in this case, biases and stereotypes were held by Ms. Lee and the school resource officer, evidenced through their dismissals of Xavier’s strengths. Ali was explicit in describing Xavier’s success at his previous school, noting how the school provided him with individualized support, including his BIP. This was in stark contrast to the new school’s deficit-based perceptions of Xavier, which manifested in their rejection of his innocence and right to be protected in his environment. Instead of examining the ecologies that led to his demotivation and truancy, addressing the behaviors of other students, and providing him with the resources and support to remedy this situation, they found a way to utilize procedures to remove him from the school.

The siloing among educational leaders, other school personnel, and special education teams in schools contributes to the exacerbation of existing inequities (DeMatthews et al., 2021). Consider the disconnect among all parties– Ms. McCluskey from school personnel, school personnel from Ali, and Ali from Ms. McCluskey. Even though Ms. McCluskey had both general education and administrative experience, lacking the background in special education leads to a minimization of the critical importance of interdisciplinary teaming and communication across school personnel. This collaboration is not restricted to formal IEP meetings; it is important to promote equity, well-being, and shared power throughout all interactions. Furthermore, special education training beyond procedural rights is also essential for understanding how history, systemic inequities, and intersectionality impact multiply marginalized students. With these foundations, Ms. McCluskey might have been better positioned to center Xavier’s assets and strengths, while also disrupting the deficit-based, racist, ableist, and dismissive attitudes that both Xavier and his mother were subjected to, however nuanced. Ms. McCluskey behaved more like a manager in this scenario than a leader, while Ms. Lee situated herself to be in control. Leadership is important, and cannot just be about the work of one individual (Capper & Frattura, 2017; Ishimaru & Galloway, 2014; M. M. Lewis et al., 2023). However, leaders cannot either actively or passively delegate too much control, responsibility, and authority to others in ways that undermine organizational commitments to equity, as was the case for Ms. McCluskey (Theoharis, 2008).

Teaching Note 2: Embodying Systemic Equity Commitments: Intersectionality as Praxis

In 2020, the global pandemic and the murder of George Floyd led many school districts to engage in long-overdue reflection regarding systemic racism. In this scenario, Soaring Heights School District similarly reexamined its district policies and decided to implement a new equity policy as a means to communicate its values. This was an important step for the district, but policies, alone, are insufficient to address systemic issues. Research shows that inequities persist even in well-intentioned school districts with espoused values related to equity, diversity, and inclusion (Irby, 2022; A. E. Lewis & Diamond, 2015).

As noted by Kramarczuk Voulgarides (2018), school leaders are “engulfed within the social, political, and normative environments of their school districts, which have their own working understandings of what race, inequality, and special education mean to educators and community members” (p. 50). Instituting standalone policies, however, or sometimes even providing one-off professional development opportunities, can give a false sense that the equity work is done. As a principal, even though Ms. McCluskey subscribed to this initiative, her leadership is also critical for fostering a community culture of equity and a climate of belonging in the school. This goes beyond trainings or simply reviewing the policy and reporting procedures with school personnel. As Ms. Lee and the school resource officer engaged in racial microaggressions, dismissiveness, and power differentials that have consequences for Xavier and for his mother, Ms. McCluskey can play a role in disrupting these issues at the microlevel. To institute a change in school climate, critical reflection must be ongoing and embedded in all the activities and decisions among school personnel (Khalifa et al., 2016).

Intersectionality as praxis is a means to embody systemic commitments to equity. The case presented here illuminates the complexities of systemic inequities experienced by multiply marginalized students and families. An intersectional lens is not only conceptual or theoretical but deeply practical and as Cho and colleagues (2013) explain, “[t]his framing—conceiving of categories not as distinct but as always permeated by other categories, fluid and changing, always in the process of creating and being created by dynamics of power—emphasizes what intersectionality does rather than what intersectionality is (p. 795). The foundations of Crenshaw’s work clearly established intersectionality as praxis, which can be applied to understanding multiple marginalizations within any system, although it has been often lifted out of its framing and co-opted (Collins, 2019). Intersectionality as praxis calls for a routinization and lived application of the framework as a way to make sense of problems of practice by naming and dismantling concurrent and compounded systems of oppression and discrimination.

Even within the mandates of IDEA, school structures often create inequitable microenvironments for multiple marginalized students. While Xavier was technically receiving appropriate services after transferring to the school district as outlined through his IEP, he was also subjected to harm within the new system and school climate. Consider the impact of intersectionality on Xavier, who was subjected to peer-bullying and othering instead of feeling a sense of belonging. While the school may believe he was provided with FAPE, the school failed to protect him from the very conditions that led to his truancy. Given our notes above, this also located the “problem” to be resolved as within Xavier, despite his aptitude, achievement, and strengths.

Intersectionality as praxis for Ms. McCluskey involves understanding the ways in which Xavier experiences the world with his disability eligibility of EBD, as well as his identification as a Black and Indigenous male in special education. Intersectionality is not only reflected in the perceptions and attitudes toward him (by both peers and staff) but is part of the school climate. This inflicts harm through its punitive and exclusionary actions, even when they comply with IDEA’s mandates. Xavier is not the only student with a disability at SHHS, but he is the only Black and Indigenous disabled student, multiply marginalized within this school environment. It should also be noted that Ali, Xavier’s mother, is also enduring intersectionality as a Black woman; despite her consistent advocacy for Xavier’s personal and academic strengths, she is dismissed as a collaborator. Ms. McCluskey stood witness to the enactment of intersectionality, from the assertions that Xavier is having difficulty adjusting to the school culture, to suggesting that Ali’s advocacy contradicts the image of “niceness” the school community is defending. Ms. McCluskey’s role should not be a bystander, but rather to apply, and develop responses based on intersectionality praxis, since multiple marginalizations should be addressed together because they occur in tandem. It is doubtful that intersectionality is explicitly embedded into the district’s equity curriculum. This does not mean, however, that it is not the responsibility of each school to develop an adequate action plan which supports an anti-oppressive school culture.

Teaching Note 3: Moving Beyond Compliance

Special education practice is intricately circumscribed by disability laws such as IDEA, which set procedural and substantive requirements designed to ensure that disabled students receive a free and appropriate public education. As such, within special education, there is a strong emphasis on compliance, particularly procedural compliance, at times in ways that lose sight of equity considerations (Kramarczuk Voulgarides, 2018; M. M. Lewis, 2018). Enforcement mechanisms, such as mediation, state complaint processes, administrative hearings, and due process, combined with the complexities of IDEA, institutionalize an adversarial and litigious dynamic between families and school districts (Zirkel, 2023). Moreover, these dispute-resolution procedures favor families in positions of power and privilege (Ong-Dean, 2009). As such, the legal and policy context makes it more challenging to prioritize relationships, particularly equitable collaboration and partnerships. While IDEA includes provisions regarding parent participation, compliance with the law is a low bar, and equity requires more. Equity calls for schools to perceive families as critical holders of knowledge and view their collaboration as a valuable asset and integral to the IEP team.

In this case, while all of the school personnel, including Ms. McCluskey, were compliant with the policies of IDEA as well as reviewing the district-implemented equity policies, inequity still persisted. In the prioritization of procedures and goals decided by the school team that excluded Xavier and Ali, a behavior reevaluation was requested, even though no challenges were noted in the implementation of his BIP. In addition, the nuance of mentioning Xavier’s truancy was important for understanding the mechanisms by which schools can hold attendance and other policies as both punitive measures and power leverage over parents and students. Undoubtedly, Ms. Lee followed the letter of the law to request Ali’s signature to proceed with Xavier’s reevaluation by a psychologist. However, the focus on compliance may overshadow the inequitable ends for which this process was utilized. This is important for recognizing the ways in which school personnel use power in ways that are not always explicit.

Teaching Note 4: Co-Advocacy: A Reconceptualization of Advocacy

One significant issue in this scenario that perpetuates the inequities within school environments is the maintenance of the status quo. Not only did the school personnel constrain the space for Ali in advocating for her son, but the meeting to set up the reevaluation, followed by the meeting to announce the school’s decision, sent a clear message to Xavier about his agency within this system. How are students expected to become self-advocates and display self-determination within a system that marginalizes them as well as their families? (Scott et al., 2021).

While it may seem that only students and families are constrained in this hierarchical and historically inequitable system, this also impacts leadership. Educational leaders who can be instrumental in transforming school climates may be complicit, or their efforts toward equity stifled. In addition, the siloing of roles thwarts the ideal of collaboration idealized under IDEA, where each member of the school team can move beyond their content expertise to provide support for the whole student. There is even more urgent and imperative for disabled students of color, to disrupt historically entrenched norms.

A study by Carter and colleagues (2022) examined the impact and enactment of culturally responsive school leadership (CRSL) in a school in response to its reckoning with systemic racism. Illustrating the key tenets of Khalifa’s et al. (2016) foundational work in developing CRSL as a critically reflective and continuous effort, this study highlighted the importance of remaining in conversations with the students of the school and prioritizing their voices, while also fostering critical connections with the school community. In their findings, researchers reinforced the pivotal role of school leaders as those who “employ culturally responsive practices across systems to create equitable solutions to racialized incidents within their school districts. . .establishing synergistic communication pathways (two-way communication pathways) between minoritized communities, families, and school leaders” (p. 126). In addition, this study underscored the importance of hiring “cultural liaisons” who would serve as advocates for marginalized students. This has important implications for our case study, particularly the opportunity to think about who might serve as an advocate for Xavier and other families situated within a school community resistant to change, yet whose needs and concerns remain unaddressed beyond IDEA compliance.

Given the above example, one possibility for Ms. McCluskey is to become a co-advocate. Co-advocacy, conceptualized by Harry and Ocasio-Stoutenburg (2020, 2021) is a shortened term for co-constructing advocacy, a role for any individual supporting the needs of the student and their families without (1) supplanting their power and agency, (2) forcing them to engage in behaviors that erase their culture, language, and identity, (3) seeking goals that are not appropriate or acceptable to the student and family, and (4) considering the systemic inequities and experiences of intersectionality that endure in educational environments. Based on extensive ethnographic research studies on families of color advocating for their children across a range of disability categorizations (Ocasio-Stoutenburg & Harry, 2021), co-advocacy describes a role that professionals and non-professionals alike endeavor to take with families. Co-advocacy draws from the Posture of Cultural Reciprocity framework by Kalyanpur and Harry (2012), which asserts that practitioners engaging with families of children with disabilities first reflect upon their own personal biases. Therefore, as an administrator serving in the co-advocate role, Ms. McCluskey along with her school staff can engage in reflective practices to uncover their unexamined biases and stereotypical views while also thinking about how these influence their power and positioning in the school context. As a co-advocate, Ms. McCluskey can also disrupt the power differentials by moving toward collaboration with Xavier’s mother. This means responding to Ali’s expressed concerns, providing Xavier with support, interrupting unnecessary transfers, redressing bullying at the schoolwide level, and creating schoolwide training opportunities to transform the school culture. Furthermore, equitable leadership entails a willingness to move past discomfort, resistance, or complacency toward authentic change.

Conclusion

Scholars have well-described the fundamental flaws in special education policy and practice, as a set of supports that depends on children being identified and often pathologized, while also expecting their caregivers to navigate a bureaucratic and legalistic arena. IDEA, through its provisions, may provide a scaffolding for equity, yet does not influence its implementation beyond legal compliance. School leaders would do well to understand how challenges are further magnified for students experiencing intersectionality. In doing so, they may also conceive a role for themselves as taking up the charge for equitable transformation institutionally, structurally, personally, and collaboratively. Indeed, school leaders hold the potential for being change-agents and co-advocates, going beyond being school managers to leading the long-term change in spite of the resistance by those seeking to maintain the status quo. There is a critical role for those committed leaders at the top of the chain of command to be situated with people who are most vulnerable within an inequitable system. We, ourselves, advocate for their roles, visions, and capacity to transform the future of our schools, to protect and love our students.

Questions for Reflection and Discussion

The following questions are designed to correspond with each teaching note.

1. Teaching Note 1: The Role of the Principal in Special Education – In this scenario, Principal McCluskey witnessed behaviors and decisions from her school team which impact Xavier and Ali. What steps could Principal McCluskey have taken to promote equity, diversity, inclusion, and anti-racism in this scenario? How could she leverage her leadership role to support her staff to uphold these ideals?

2. Teaching Note 2: Embodying Systemic Equity Commitments: Intersectionality as Praxis-What practical strategies can Principal McCluskey and the school team implement to strengthen their understanding of intersectionality and how it manifested in this case? How is power being used in this case? How could it be used to better embody equity and intersectional praxis?

3. Teaching Note 3: Moving Beyond Compliance – How did Principal McCluskey and the school team leverage structures and systems to devalue and exclude the critical contributions of Xavier and Ali? How could they enhance their collaboration to ensure equitable outcomes for Xavier and his family?

4. Teaching Note 4: Co-Advocacy: A Reconceptualization of Advocacy-During the initial school meeting, who was serving as a co-advocate for Xavier? In what ways are they supporting this student and their caregiver outside of formal meetings? If an equitable climate was created, who could then serve as a co-advocate for Xavier and Ali?