A Seat at the Table: What California’s Special Education Settlement Means for My Son — and for Our Community

As an Orthodox Jewish mother, I always assumed my children would grow up immersed in our mesorah — our sacred Jewish tradition. I imagined them in yeshiva day school classrooms learning Torah, singing Shalom Aleichem on Friday nights, and walking to synagogue in tiny dress shoes. This was the future I dreamed of for my son Yonatan.

But G-d had other plans.

Yonatan was born with a genetic disorder called ADNP. Sweet, clever and full of life — but with challenges that required extra support. When we sought to enroll him in Jewish day schools, we were met with closed doors. Again and again, we heard: “We’re just not equipped.”

This wasn’t unique to our family. For decades, families like mine in Los Angeles faced a painful reality: our community lacked the infrastructure to support Jewish children with special needs. While public schools offered services mandated by law, they couldn’t provide the Jewish education that is central to our identity. The few programs that did exist were often limited in scope and resources, leaving many families without viable options.

Faced with this dilemma, we made the heart-wrenching decision to enroll Yonatan in public school to access the services he needed. While his educational needs were met, his spiritual and cultural ones were not. He missed out on learning the weekly Torah portion, davening with peers, and celebrating Yom Tov in a setting that resonated with our faith.

And increasingly, sending a Jewish child to public school comes with even greater concerns. Recently, he went on a school trip, and even though we have told his school on many occasions that he can’t eat nonkosher food, he came home and told me that he ate pizza from a nonkosher restaurant.

Incidents like that one have become a tragic motif of his time in public school.

Yonatan has come home begging us to dress up for Halloween — a holiday many observant Jews don’t celebrate. We have made decisions that we never thought we’d have to, such as sending him to school on Jewish holidays. But when that bus pulls up in front of our house and our kid with special needs begs us to go, it is easier to send him than to try and explain why we can’t.

These experiences are compounded by growing concerns about antisemitism and anti-Israel sentiment in California public schools. Some ethnic studies curricula have included content portraying Israel as a colonial aggressor or questioning Jewish peoplehood altogether. For Jewish students — especially those already navigating complex educational needs — these environments can feel isolating and unsafe.

This struggle is not mine alone. The broader Jewish community in California, particularly Orthodox families, have long faced systemic exclusion when seeking both a religious education and support for children with disabilities. This was not only emotionally devastating but legally unjust. Under federal law, California must provide all children the special education services they need. When California public schools cannot satisfy this obligation, California must partner with private schools to fill that void. And yet California prohibited religious schools from joining this effort and becoming state-certified special needs schools, forcing families to make impossible choices.

In response to this injustice, the Teach Coalition, where I serve as executive director of California, joined forces with other families and the Becket Fund for Religious Liberty to challenge the state’s policy. The lawsuit, Loffman v. California Department of Education, argued that denying special education services to children in religious schools was a violation of federal law and religious freedom.

In May 2025, we won.

The state of California settled, agreeing to stop excluding religious schools and providers from participating in federally funded special education programs. This landmark agreement is not just a legal technicality, it is a transformative step toward equity and inclusion in Jewish education.

Now, Jewish day schools in California, including those in Los Angeles, can become special needs schools, serve the Jewish special needs community and access millions of dollars in previously denied resources to support students like Yonatan. 

Now, Jewish day schools in California, including those in Los Angeles, can become special needs schools, serve the Jewish special needs community and access millions of dollars in previously denied resources to support students like Yonatan. These funds will cover essential services such as speech and occupational therapy, academic aides, psychological counseling, and more. And Jewish children with disabilities and their parents no longer have to choose between their faith and their future. Maybe most importantly, this victory sets a precedent for the nearly dozen other states that also systematically exclude religious schools from their special needs programs.

This settlement doesn’t fix everything — but it gives us something we’ve never had before: a glimpse of what’s possible. A future where Jewish day schools can begin to truly serve every child — where every Jewish child, regardless of ability, can truly thrive. We’re not there yet, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel out of reach.

 While this victory came too late for my son to benefit directly, I hope it will be a gift to those who come after — and it’s exactly why I decided to turn this personal journey into my professional mission. I joined Teach Coalition because I believe that no family should have to go through what we went through. Teach Coalition is a nonpartisan organization that fights for equitable funding and policy for nonpublic schools, including Jewish day schools. Our work continues — not only to ensure these funds are implemented, but to build sustainable, inclusive models of Jewish education across the state.

The implications are national. Other states are watching. As California goes, so may others. This is our chance to take the lead in ensuring that all Jewish children, regardless of their abilities, are embraced, supported, and educated within their community.

We often speak of chanoch al pi darko: educating each child according to their path. Yet, until now, many children were denied a path in our system altogether. That must change.

Let this be the generation that opens doors. That builds classrooms reflecting the full diversity of klal Yisrael. That proclaims: There is a seat for you here.

Because every child belongs in the story of our people. And every child deserves to learn it, live it, and love it, fully supported, fully seen, and fully Jewish.

Miriam Mark is Executive Director of Teach CA.