Ethan has autism. Can Montgomery County find the right school for him?

All summer, Alem Obssa frantically tried to find the right high school for her son.

Ethan, who has autism, spent middle school at Rock Terrace, a Montgomery County public school for students with cognitive disabilities. But district staff determined that 14-year-old Ethan, along with a handful of other ninth graders, shouldn’t stay there for high school.

To continue pursuing their diplomas, opening the door to more education and job opportunities, they had to leave the small, supportive campus in Rockville.

The upheaval for Ethan comes after the district experimented with a new model for serving students at Rock Terrace but ultimately ended it. Several parents said that district officials fumbled the teenagers’ transition into new schools, raising the already-high hurdles that families can face when navigating special education bureaucracy. At least three parents worked with an advocate to file formal complaints with the Maryland State Department of Education.

Montgomery County Public Schools officials say they are confident in the students’ placements, adding that parents were made aware when their children started at Rock Terrace that they might not be able to stay there long-term.

Ethan’s case is a stark example of how complicated it can be to find the right schools for children whose needs don’t fit neatly into a box.

Montgomery County’s special education population is growing, even as its overall enrollment declines. More than 23,000 students are diagnosed with disabilities, including roughly 5,100 with autism. This growth may compound challenges particular to special education programs.

After weeks of frustration, Ethan’s parents begrudgingly sent their son to a special education program at their local public school, Paint Branch High. Its enrollment is more than 28 times the size of Rock Terrace, which served just 71 kids.

As they feared, Ethan had a tough start.

Losing Rock Terrace

Before starting at Rock Terrace in sixth grade, Ethan struggled.

His former school repeatedly suspended him and isolated him from his peers in a so-called “reboot room” because of his disruptive behavior.

He’s a curious kid, but that can lead to problems, like when he tries pulling a fire alarm or bolts out of class.

“He can learn fast,” Obssa said. “His main issue is social interaction and conversation.”

Rock Terrace, with its tiny class sizes and expertise in helping children with complex needs, seemed like a godsend.

But its students do not earn high school diplomas. They instead take classes based on adapted standards, culminating in a certificate of school completion, which limits what kinds of job and education opportunities they’re eligible for.

Three years ago, however, Rock Terrace tried something new: They welcomed Ethan into a cohort of roughly a dozen middle school students who were still working toward diplomas. These kids occupied a middle ground, capable of higher-level academics but in need of intensive emotional and behavioral support.

District officials said they created this cohort to collect more data before making the high-stakes decision about whether the students were able to remain on the diploma track or whether they should stay certificate-bound.

Ethan, who loves electronics, aspires to find a job in the information technology field. Continuing to work toward his diploma could help make that possible.

During the cohort’s eighth grade year, staff determined that Ethan and some other students should continue on the diploma track. Rock Terrace is not designed for that, officials said, so the teenagers had to go elsewhere for high school.

Several parents in the cohort said MCPS officials didn’t adequately prepare them to leave Rock Terrace in ninth grade. They said they repeatedly asked about transition plans but struggled to get concrete answers.

Many placement meetings took place this summer, after school was out, leaving the parents with little time to evaluate their options.

Margaret Cage, MCPS’ chief student support officer, said families were kept in the loop. She said she’s confident in the placement of every child from the cohort.

“Some may not have been happy with the placement, but everybody was well aware, and they’ve been engaged in the process over the last year,” Cage said.

“We have worked with every parent. I can’t make a parent accept the outcome.”

Obssa pointed to missteps that made her feel like MCPS wasn’t looking out for Ethan. For example, she said her son’s Individualized Education Program was accidentally sent to a different family. An IEP contains sensitive information, and sharing it without parental consent is a breach of student privacy law. The school district did not respond to The Banner’s inquiry about the IEP.

The anxiety around Ethan’s education keeps Obssa up at night. An immigrant from Ethiopia, she worked hard to become a nurse, but she even considered a leave of absence to figure out Ethan’s schooling. She’s spent months trying to figure out his ninth-grade plans with the help of educational advocate Stacy Ganz Kahn.

Obssa isn’t the only one struggling.

Glenda Del Cid was also told her son could attend Paint Branch, but she feared the large campus and fast lessons could trigger outbursts from her son, who has autism. If that happens, she said, “he’s going to start hitting people. It’s going to be a chaotic place for him.”

She decided to keep her son home from school until MCPS finds another placement for him — ideally, back at Rock Terrace, even if that means he isn’t able to pursue a diploma anymore.

“I’m very frustrated because my kid has all the right to have the education that anyone else can have in this country,” Del Cid said. “I feel like my voice and my rights and my decision as a parent is not counting.”

More than a week into the school year, her son hadn’t been to class.

Meeting his needs

Federal law gives children with disabilities the right to a free education that meets their needs. If a public school doesn’t have a program that can accomplish this, districts can be made to pay expensive tuition for a student to attend a specialized nonpublic campus.

MCPS agreed to private placements for some of the students from the Rock Terrace cohort. But unlike public schools, private ones aren’t required to accept every child.

Obssa’s top choice for private placement could not, in the words of an Aug. 24 text message, “meet his needs at this time.”

She visited another private school that district officials recommended. But the campus, she said, was dirty, and Ethan is extremely sensitive about cleanliness. Plus, she saw students sleeping on couches — Ethan goes to school to learn, she said, not lie around.

So at the last minute, she agreed to send Ethan to Paint Branch. He is in the Bridge Program for students who can excel academically but struggle with anxieties.

Walking onto campus for the first day, Obssa paused in the parking lot to tie Ethan’s loose shoelaces. She spent the next hour and a half on filling out forms and observing her son’s classroom.

It felt all wrong, she said. Ethan didn’t have a one-to-one aide, which Obssa said he needs. She could see him struggling to follow directions and worried that he would elope, a common behavior for children with autism where they run off from caregivers.

In fact, Obssa said Ethan ran out of class several times on the first day of school.

She’s continuing to research other campuses, looking for that unicorn of a school where her child can be safe, supported and challenged to learn.

In the meantime, she worries and waits. A few days into the school year, Obssa’s husband got a phone call from Paint Branch — their son was crying nonstop. He drove to the high school to bring Ethan home.