The Trump administration is moving special education oversight out of the Department of Education and into Health and Human Services.
Supporters call it reorganization.
Parents call it something else.
Because when a child needs help, the question is not which federal agency handles the paperwork.
The question is whether that child gets the services they need.
And that is where Scarlett gets pissed.
Scarlett has a granddaughter on the autism spectrum.
She does not know exactly what support her granddaughter will need as she grows.
She does not know what challenges she will face.
But she knows this:
Her granddaughter deserves every opportunity to become whoever she is capable of becoming.
And that opportunity should not depend on how much money her parents have.
Because here is the ugly truth nobody wants to talk about:
When public support systems are weakened, wealthy families still find a way.
They hire specialists.
They pay for private evaluations.
They pay for tutors.
They pay for therapies.
They pay for advocates.
They pay for private schools designed specifically for children with additional needs.
Someone close to Scarlett has a grandson who requires specialized educational support. His parents are fortunate enough to afford a private school designed to meet those needs.
Good.
Every child deserves that kind of support.
But what about the families who cannot write those checks?
What about the single mother working two jobs?
What about the grandparents raising grandchildren?
What about the parents already choosing between rent, groceries, prescriptions, and gas?
What happens to their children?
Because those children deserve the same opportunity to succeed.
Scarlett’s own children benefited from IEPs and educational support because ADHD was part of their family’s story.
And yes, Scarlett knows exactly what some people are thinking.
ADHD?
Scarlett?
No.
Surely not the woman with a demanding full-time job, a real life outside of Scarleting, 47 tabs open, three causes on fire, a missing password, a half-written post, an unanswered text, laundry judging her from the corner, and a sudden urgent need to reorganize a website menu at midnight.
Shocking.
But when Scarlett was a kid, nobody knew what the heck ADHD was.
There were no IEP meetings.
There were no accommodations.
There were no conversations about executive functioning, learning differences, or how smart kids can still struggle.
There was “sit still.”
There was “pay attention.”
There was “try harder.”
And in Catholic school, there was sometimes a yardstick.
Scarlett is not romanticizing that. She is condemning it.
Because a lot of children were punished for things adults did not understand, did not support, or did not want to deal with.
Scarlett still remembers getting whacked across the knees because her skirt was a little too short.
Every Friday for most of seventh and all of eighth grade.
The crime?
Having a skirt that was more than 3 inches above her knee.
The culprit?
According to the school, the child wearing the uniform.
Not the parent who bought it.
Not the family budget.
Not the fact that children have the audacity to grow.
The child.
Ah yes.
The educational philosophy of the era seemed to be: when in doubt, blame the kid.
That was not discipline.
That was adults taking their frustration, control, and ignorance out on a child.
And yes, here is another hidden connection to Scarlett’s abortion article.
Because this is the same pattern.
Force the birth.
Police the child.
Punish the parent.
Ignore the poverty.
Blame the kid.
Then act shocked when people say the system was never really pro-life at all.
Children are not born into equal circumstances.
Some are born into families with money, time, advocates, access, transportation, flexibility, private specialists, and backup plans.
Others are born into families doing the absolute best they can while barely keeping the lights on.
That child’s future should not depend on which family they got dropped into.
That is why special education matters.
That is why IEPs matter.
That is why public schools matter.
That is why federal protections matter.
That is why Federal Pell Grants matter. Or better yet, some form of universal secondary education.
Because support does not make a child less capable.
It helps the world finally see what was already there.
Scarlett’s children didn’t succeed because someone lowered the bar.
They succeeded because someone finally understood what they needed to clear it.
And they succeeded because they had a mother in their corner.
A mother who believed in them.
A mother who pushed for them.
A mother who sat through meetings, asked questions, challenged decisions, and occasionally became a royal pain in the ass when she thought someone was overlooking her kids.
A mother who sometimes fought battles for them that, looking back, she probably should have let them fight themselves.
But when you are a parent and you see your child struggling, you do not always get that balance right.
You just fight.
Because children need systems that work.
But they also need adults who will fight like hell when those systems don’t.
And if we make it harder for families to access services, harder to enforce protections, and harder to hold schools accountable, the children who suffer will not be the wealthy ones.
The wealthy will find another option.
The children who suffer will be the ones whose families do not have one.
Children with disabilities are not paperwork.
They are not budget items.
They are not political talking points.
They are children.
And they deserve better than this.
Scarlett says no.
