How this teen pushed California to change special education policy

Empowering Change: How a Teen Advocate Reshaped Special education policy

Discover the inspiring journey of a young advocate whose voice led to significant policy shifts in special education.

This article delves into the impact of language, the importance of student-centered advocacy, and how one individual's experience can illuminate the path toward a more inclusive and understanding educational system for all.

Learn what it takes to champion change, even when facing systemic challenges.

The Stigma of Labels: Understanding "Emotionally Disturbed"

For many students navigating the complexities of special education, the labels assigned can carry immense weight, shaping their self-perception and their interactions within the school environment.

Saran Tugsjargal, a remarkable young advocate, shared how the designation of "emotionally disturbed" profoundly impacted her formative years.

This label, she explained, created a sense of isolation and fear, making it difficult to seek help or express her true feelings.

It felt less like a descriptor of her needs and more like a judgment, suggesting she was a burden rather than a student deserving of support and acceptance.

This experience highlights a critical aspect of education: the power of language and its potential to either foster inclusion or perpetuate stigma.

When a student feels misunderstood or dismissed, their ability to learn and thrive is significantly hampered.

The fear of being perceived as "that crazy kid" can silence a student's voice, preventing them from articulating their genuine needs and aspirations.

Tugsjargal's sentiment underscores a universal desire among students: to be accepted and included, just like their peers.

In California, the term "emotional disturbance" was applied to a substantial number of students, making them eligible for specialized educational services.

This classification, while intended to facilitate support, often carried unintended negative connotations.

The way this designation was used and perceived within the educational framework meant that students were not only receiving services but were also being categorized in a way that could lead to social and emotional challenges.

The fear of judgment and the feeling of being different became intertwined with the very support systems designed to help them.

This situation is not unique to one student; it reflects a broader challenge within educational systems where diagnostic labels can inadvertently create barriers to genuine integration and belonging.

The impact of such labels can be long-lasting, influencing a student's self-esteem and their willingness to engage actively in their own learning journey.

It is crucial, therefore, that educational institutions consider the psychological and social implications of the language they employ when discussing and categorizing students with diverse needs.

A Shift in Terminology: The Power of "Emotional Disability"

Recognizing the profound impact of stigmatizing language, a significant legislative change occurred in California.

Assembly Bill 2173, signed into law, ushered in a crucial shift, replacing the term "emotional disturbance" with the more neutral and less stigmatizing phrase "emotional disability." This change, championed by Assemblymember Dawn Addis, D-Morro Bay, aimed to reframe the conversation around these students' needs, moving away from judgment and towards a more supportive and understanding approach.

The bill's journey involved critical input from advisory commissions, and notably, it included the voices of student representatives for the first time in the commission's history.

This inclusion was pivotal, allowing individuals like Tugsjargal to share their lived experiences directly with policymakers.

Her testimony, drawing from her personal history with the "emotional disturbance" label, provided invaluable insight into the real-world consequences of such designations.

The Advisory Commission on Special Education (ACSE) took a stance on this bill, a testament to its importance and the compelling nature of the student advocacy presented.

This moment highlighted that when students are empowered to share their stories, they can significantly influence the policies that affect their education and well-being.

The transition to "emotional disability" represents more than just a semantic alteration; it signifies a fundamental rethinking of how we perceive and address the mental and emotional health needs of students.

This new terminology aims to acknowledge that students may face challenges that impact their emotional regulation and learning, without attaching a label that implies inherent pathology or unmanageable behavior.

Instead, it frames these challenges as disabilities that can be supported through appropriate educational interventions and accommodations.

This shift is vital for fostering a more inclusive educational environment where students feel understood and valued.

When the language used is respectful and accurate, it can help dismantle the stigma associated with seeking help and receiving special education services.

It encourages a focus on the student's strengths and their potential for growth, rather than solely on their perceived deficits.

This proactive approach to language in education is a powerful tool for promoting equity and ensuring that all students have the opportunity to succeed.

Student Voice in Policy: The Role of Saran Tugsjargal

Saran Tugsjargal's journey from a student feeling powerless to a formidable advocate is a testament to the transformative power of student voice in shaping educational policy.

Her personal experiences with the special education system, including diagnoses of autism spectrum disorder and ADHD, provided her with a unique perspective on the challenges students face.

She candidly shared how therapies, while intended to help, sometimes made her feel more different, especially when she was pulled out of general education classes for specialized instruction.

The announcement of her name for these services, she recalled, often made her feel singled out, a stark contrast to the desire for inclusion she held.

This feeling of being conspicuous, even when receiving support, underscored the need for more integrated and less isolating approaches to special education.

Her wish was for her services to be less noticeable and for her to be more seamlessly integrated into the general education classroom, a sentiment that resonates with many students who navigate similar paths.

As Tugsjargal progressed through her education, she recognized the necessity of self-advocacy.

This realization led her to actively participate in her Individualized Education Program (IEP) meetings, where decisions about her specialized instruction were made.

During this critical period of self-discovery and advocacy, a clinical psychologist played a pivotal role, acting as a mentor and a bridge between Tugsjargal and her mother, who had limited English proficiency.

This support was instrumental in helping them understand the IEP process and in empowering Tugsjargal to articulate her needs effectively.

Her advocacy extended beyond her personal IEP, evolving into a mission to improve the IEP process itself.

Working with the California Collaborative for Educational Excellence, she contributed to the development of a new IEP template designed to be more youth and family-centered.

This initiative aimed to ensure that the document was accessible and responsive to the needs of students and their families, incorporating space for student and parent statements alongside those of educators.

This focus on creating a document that truly "speaks to them" rather than resembling a rigid, corporate form is a hallmark of her commitment to making education more equitable and accessible.

Advocacy in Action: Impact on IEPs and Beyond

The work of Tugsjargal and her fellow student commissioner, Rachael Ding, on the Advisory Commission on Special Education (ACSE) has had a tangible impact on the way student needs are addressed within the special education framework.

Aubrie Fulk, Director of Student, Family, and District Support for the Tehama County Department of Education, praised Tugsjargal's consistent emphasis on asking a fundamental question: "Have you asked the students?" This simple yet profound inquiry served as a constant reminder to the adults in the room to prioritize the student's perspective, ensuring that their voices were not only heard but also central to decision-making processes.

Victoria Graf, Vice Chair of the ACSE, echoed these sentiments, describing both student commissioners as exceptionally bright, independent thinkers who brought a unique and valuable level of insight to the commission's deliberations.

Their contributions pushed the commission to consider the lived realities of students with disabilities in a more profound way.

Tugsjargal's advocacy extended beyond her immediate experiences, encompassing a deep consideration for the diverse circumstances of students with disabilities.

She made a conscious effort to empathize with the challenges faced by youth in juvenile detention, those experiencing homelessness, and foster youth.

This broader perspective informed her testimony, particularly when discussing the impact of labels like "emotionally disturbed." She recognized that her experience, while significant, was part of a larger narrative affecting many individuals across different backgrounds and identities.

Kris Murphey, who edited an article by Tugsjargal for The EDge, a newsletter sponsored by the California Department of Education, noted Tugsjargal's unwavering confidence and energy.

Murphey observed her speaking at rallies and engaging with individuals at the capital, highlighting her ability to articulate necessary points with clarity and conviction, even when it made others uncomfortable.

This willingness to speak truth to power, combined with her deep understanding of the issues, has positioned her as a formidable force in disability advocacy, working at state, national, and even international levels.

Her advocacy has transformed her own feelings of powerlessness into a profound sense of purpose, empowering her to stand up for other students with disabilities.

Conclusion: A Model for Future Educational Reform

Saran Tugsjargal's story is a powerful illustration of how a single individual's determination and lived experience can catalyze meaningful change within the complex landscape of special education.

Her advocacy, from challenging stigmatizing labels like "emotionally disturbed" to championing a more student-centered approach to IEP development, demonstrates the critical importance of amplifying student voices in policy-making.

The shift to "emotional disability" and the push for more inclusive IEP templates are direct results of her tireless efforts and the courage of students like her to share their truths.

This narrative serves as an inspiring model for future educational reform, underscoring that true progress is achieved when we actively listen to, value, and empower the students whose lives are most directly impacted by educational policies.

Her journey from feeling unheard to becoming a powerful advocate for the 850,000 students in California, and beyond, highlights that when we prioritize empathy and inclusion, we create a more equitable and supportive learning environment for everyone.

The lessons learned from her advocacy are invaluable for educators, policymakers, and anyone committed to building a better future for education.