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I am the parent of a child who requires special education services. She is a member of this community. She walks through town, runs into neighbors who know her, rides her tandem bike, swims at the YWCA, walks with her service dog, gets sweets at her favorite bakeries and continues to build a life rooted in the community she has worked so hard to access.
Lately, as I have listened to school committee budget discussions, I cannot shake the statements from our community’s school leaders:
As stated by a school committee member (4/8/2026, 45:02), “I think the biggest takeaway is just the pressure on us from the special ed[ucation] out of placement which…I think we’ve been trying to offset and figure out ways to minimize, but when we have students who have needs that we can’t fulfill in our district, we just have no choice.” And (4/8/2026, 1:09), “I think…we are dealing with a very significant situation with the special ed[ucation] that is out of our control and to make the rest of the district suffer because of that cost I think…is a problematic situation to be in.” At the April 29, 2026 school committee budget presentation a member stated, “[o]ne student with an IEP moving into the district can put a whole new burden—new need—on the district.” (4/29/2026, 32:04–32:16). [All emphasis above added.]
Those words may sound like abstract budget concerns. But to families like mine, they land as something else entirely.
They land as a question we never expected to ask: Do we still belong here?
I want to ask something plainly.
If a house is on fire, do we send fewer fire trucks than needed because a full response would strain the budget or inconvenience other neighborhoods?
Do we tell the family inside that the situation is “out of our control,” and that helping them fully would cause others to suffer?
Of course we do not. Because doing so would violate something more basic than any line item: our shared responsibility to one another.
Education is no different.
Public education is not a benefit that works only when it is inexpensive. It is a public promise. And that promise does not dissolve when a child’s needs are complex, costly, or inconvenient. Newburyport policy commits the City to protect civil and human rights and to ensure equal opportunity in education and access to city services, without discrimination. Citywide priorities include community health and connectivity and providing high-quality educational opportunities for all residents.
Inquiring regarding the school budget, city councilors report: 1) they’ve been advised by the city solicitor and the school committee that the city council has no authority to intervene in school operations or even to ask substantive questions beyond the formal budget process; and 2) the School Committee and Superintendent have broad authority over the school budget; the City Council may question the proposed budget, but does not control or amend individual line items.
The city councilors – and mayor – certainly should not be powerless, with the largest majority of our city’s appropriations going to our school department; this year that is potentially $41 million, as proposed by the school committee. Under the city council’s committee structure, the committee on education, the committee on budget and finance, and the committee on general government serve as liaisons with the school committee on education-related matters and school finances within the City’s overall budget process. The mayor convenes an annual joint budget meeting with the city council, school committee, and superintendent to coordinate development of the school and citywide budgets. The mayor proposes the budget, including a school budget, and provides overall executive oversight of the citywide budget, supported by the finance director’s monitoring, accounting, and coordination of the budget process, including early identification of major policy issues and options for review. As part of that process, the Mayor calls a joint meeting of the city council and school committee to review budget assumptions, major policy issues, and options before finalizing coordinated budgets.
A school committee member independently noted last year that special education costs are expected to keep rising, requiring more creative in-district service delivery.
I am not naive about costs. I balance my own family budget like everyone else. I understand that school leaders face real financial pressures. But what I cannot accept is the framing of children as “cost drivers” or of their legally protected needs as something “out of our control.”
My child is not outside the district’s control.
Point blank: Would any of us accept being told we can no longer live in our own community
— not because we did anything wrong — but because the government service we require has become “too burdensome” or “out of the district’s control”?
Students with disabilities are not rare anomalies. Their needs are known, recurring, and predictable. Meeting them is not a surprise; it is part of the responsibility of running a public school system that exists to serve all students.
Here is the part that breaks me open: My daughter has been told she can participate in senior activities and walk at graduation with her peers. The District is willing to include her in the most stimulating, socially complex, unstructured events – prom and graduation – acknowledging her capacity to navigate some of the most overwhelming environments of high school life.
And yet, for years, this school district administration has also maintained that she could not be supported in the structured, predictable environment of a classroom with those same peers.
So…she may be permitted to celebrate with them at the end, while being denied the chance to learn with them along the way.
That is not inclusion. It is optics.
If we want to call ourselves an inclusive community, we cannot reserve inclusion for ceremonies. We must practice it in classrooms.
In special education, inclusion – what the law calls the “least restrictive environment” – means educating a disabled student with nondisabled peers whenever possible. It is not symbolic proximity. It is not a photo‑op at graduation. It is real, daily participation: learning alongside peers, being known by classmates, being part of the shared life of school.
We were in court last week and the judge said something that has stayed with me: “What this town has done to this child is really… sad.”
That statement hurt my heart — the harm done to our daughter by years of educational deprivation and the blame placed on the community. However, I know this community. My daughter is continually accepted in this community. She is smiled at in stores, greeted around town, included by people who know her heart. But she has not been accepted by the one public institution that determines whether a child is truly included: her school district.
The conversation is not whether special education is costly; it is whether we believe – at a fundamental level — that every child has the right to an education and the right to live in their community, without being labeled a burden for existing.
At the last school committee meeting, the superintendent said:
“We would never not provide services to students. If additional support is needed, we will provide it….If we have to hire another special education teacher mid‑year, that’s something we will do to meet student needs.”
I heard that and I believed it.
So let me say this clearly:
Challenge accepted.
Hire a special education teacher.
We have a student – my daughter – who needs an education. Now.
If you are reading this and want your voice heard, please email our elected decision‑makers – the mayor, city council, and school committee – as well as district leadership, including the superintendent, this week at CityCouncil@newburyportma.gov; mayor@cityofnewburyport.com; sc@newburyport.k12.ma.us: sgallagher@newburyport.k12.ma.us.
Tell them you expect:
First, action behind public assurances – including an immediate staffing plan to serve students whose needs are currently unmet.
Second, an end to public language that devalues disabled students – language that frames children as “burdens,” “cost drivers,” or problems to be managed rather than members of a shared community.
Third, a sustainable and responsible school budget – one that does not resolve fiscal stress by reducing staffing in already strained environments, pushing students toward more restrictive and ultimately more costly out‑of‑district placements.
And fourth, a standing mid‑year special education contingency – so when needs arise, the district can respond promptly, without treating a child’s legal right to an education as an inconvenience.
Then show up at the next school committee meeting and say the same thing on the record:
Educate children first. Figure out the spreadsheets second. And put action behind your words.
Sarah Joor
Newburyport resident
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