Read the Room: A Letter to Israel’s Educational Leaders on Disability Inclusion

Recently, a dispute erupted in Israel between the Teachers’ Union, parents’ organizations, and the Education Ministry over the future of disability inclusion in schools. The Teachers’ Union has argued that severe staffing shortages and a lack of support personnel are making it increasingly difficult to successfully integrate students with disabilities into mainstream classrooms. In response, the Parents Leadership Association urged the Education Ministry to reject any effort to limit inclusion, arguing that students with disabilities should not be excluded because of broader failures in funding and staffing. At the center of this debate are thousands of children whose educational futures may be shaped by the decisions made today.

As someone who had an Individualized Education Plan (IEP), I was deeply troubled to read about the efforts to limit disability inclusion in Israeli classrooms amid a staffing shortage. Not only is it a shame, but a moral and spiritual failure.

I started my K-12 journey in a Jewish day school that had a specialized learning program. My parents wanted me to get a seminary-style education growing up, but unfortunately, in just 3 years, the program did not have enough funding to keep going, and ultimately had to shutter its doors. I eventually had to go to secular specialized schools for the rest of my K-12 career, but I kept continuing my Jewish education, though, in a non-traditional way. It still laid the framework for my lifestyle and shaped me into who I am today. I graduated from high school in 2021, and spent a year in Israel after.

But when I got to college, everything changed. It was hard for me to sit in a class of 30+ people with “typical” learning styles. I couldn’t manage my accommodations, which led to unprecedented stress and forced me to leave. While 70%+ students with an IEP graduate from high school, only 30% manage to obtain a bachelor’s degree or higher. Despite the challenges, I have always refused to give up.

In Judaism, we are taught that Everyone is Created in the Image of G-d (Btzelem Elohim) and that All Jews Are Responsible for One Another (Kol Yisrael Arevim Zeh Ba’Zeh). At least a quarter of the Jewish community has some sort of disability, and because specialized supports are often not seen within the Jewish community, it prevents the family and individual from engaging in an active Jewish life. Too often, conversations about disability inclusion focus on costs, staffing, and logistics. Those concerns are real and deserve attention, and voicing my concerns has led to listening, but no real action. That’s why I’m here.

Beyond childhood and now into adulthood, I still struggle and still require accommodations. The accommodations I received growing up did not lower expectations; in fact, I exceeded them as a result. Today, I am an independent writer, researcher, advocate, and content creator. I write and speak about Jewish life, Israel, disability, diplomacy, and current events. I have published in Jewish and Israeli media outlets, participated in Jewish leadership programming and social events, made some of my best friends through these programs and events, and continue to engage in public discourse every day. None of this could have happened without the supports I received.

When policymakers debate inclusion, they are debating the futures of real children. Children who may one day become writers, teachers, scientists, entrepreneurs, diplomats, community leaders, or advocates. Children who deserve the same opportunity to learn and participate as anyone else.

Students with disabilities require accommodations to reach the same goals. Having individualized attention helped me achieve my goals, and being in smaller classrooms helped me achieve my goals and allowed me to focus better.

The debate is framed as a conflict between inclusion and practicality. Teachers are overwhelmed, classrooms are crowded, and resources are stretched thin. These concerns are real and should not be dismissed, but students with disabilities should never become the center for systemic failures. Students are not defined by their disabilities, but are defined by their potential.

The responsibility of an education system is not to limit that potential, but to help it flourish, and I know we can do so much better.

As an autistic adult who benefited from an IEP, accommodations, and small classroom environments, I know firsthand what happens when those supports exist. The answer is not to remove students from classrooms, but to provide teachers with the resources, staffing, training, and support they need to help every student succeed.

Looking back, I often wonder how different my educational journey might have been had my Jewish day school been able to sustain its specialized learning program. My parents wanted me to receive both a Jewish education and the support I needed as an autistic student. I’m thankful I got both and can still actively participate in Jewish life and leadership.

If Israel truly seeks to be a society that embraces all Jews and all citizens, it must ensure that students with disabilities are not pushed to the margins of the educational system. Inclusion should not be viewed as an expense to be cut, but as an investment in human potential.