Jill Norton, an education policy adviser in Massachusetts, has a teenage son with dyslexia and ADHD. Shelley Scruggs, an electrical engineer in the same state, also has a teenage son with ADHD. Both students go to the same technical high school.

But this fall, Norton and Scruggs advocated on opposite sides of a Massachusetts ballot referendum scrapping the requirement that high school kids pass a standardized state test to graduate.

Norton argued that without the high bar of the standard exam, kids like hers won鈥檛 have an incentive to strive. But Scruggs maintained that kids with learning disorders also need different types of measurements than standardized tests to qualify for a high school diploma.

Voters last month approved the referendum, 59% to 41%, ending the Massachusetts requirement. There and in most other states, Scruggs鈥� position against testing is carrying the day.

Just seven states now require students to pass a test to graduate, and one of those 鈥� New York 鈥� will end its Regents Exam as a requirement by the 2027-28 school year. Florida, Louisiana, New Jersey, Ohio, Texas and Virginia still require testing to graduate, according to the National Center for Fair and Open Testing, a group that opposes such mandates.

In Massachusetts, teachers unions favored getting rid of the exam as a graduation requirement. They argued it forced them to teach certain facts at the expense of in-depth or more practical learning. But many business leaders were in favor of keeping the test, arguing that without it, they will have no guarantee that job applicants with high school diplomas possess basic skills.

State by state, graduation tests have tumbled over the past decade. In 2012, half the states required the tests, but that number fell to 13 states in 2019, . The trend accelerated during the pandemic, when many school districts scrapped the tests during remote learning and some decided to permanently extend test exemptions.

Studies have found that such graduation exams disadvantage students with learning disabilities as well as English language learners, and that they aren鈥檛 always a good predictor of success in careers or higher education.

An oft-cited 2010 by researchers at the University of Texas at Austin may have ignited the trend to scrap the tests. Researchers鈥� review of 46 earlier studies found that high school exit exams 鈥減roduced few of the expected benefits and have been associated with costs for the most disadvantaged students.鈥�

Some states began to find other ways to assess high school competency, such as grades in mandatory courses, capstone projects or technical milestones.

鈥淢inimum competency tests in the 1980s drove the idea that we need to make sure that students who graduate from high school have the bare minimum of skills,鈥� said John Papay, an associate professor of education at Brown University. 鈥淏y the mid-2000s, there was a reaction against standardized testing and a movement away from these exams. They disappeared during the pandemic and that led to these tests going away.鈥�

Despite the problems with the tests for English learners and students with learning disabilities, Papay said, the tests are 鈥渟trong predictors of long-term outcomes. Students who do better on the tests go on to graduate [from] college and they earn more.鈥�

Papay, who remains neutral on whether the tests should be required, pointed out that high school students usually have many opportunities to retake the tests and to appeal their scores.

Anne Hyslop, director of policy development at All4Ed, a think tank and advocacy group for underserved communities, noted that in many states, the testing requirements were replaced by other measures.

The schools 鈥渟till require some students or all students to demonstrate competency to graduate, but students have many more options on how they could do that. They can pass a dual credit [high school/college] course, pass industry recognized competency tests. 鈥�

鈥淎 lot of states still have assessments as part of their graduation requirements, but in a much broader form,鈥� she said.

Massachusetts moves

Scruggs said her son took Massachusetts鈥� required exam last spring; he passed the science and math portions but fell 1 point short in English.

鈥淗e could do well in his classes, but if he didn鈥檛 pass the three tests, he wouldn鈥檛 get his regular diploma,鈥� Scruggs said. 鈥淗ow do you go out into the working world, and you went to school every day and passed your classes, but got no diploma?鈥�

Her son has taken the English test again and is awaiting his new score, she said.

Norton, by contrast, said the exam, called the Massachusetts Comprehensive Assessment System, or MCAS, gave her son an incentive to work hard.

鈥淚 worry that kids like him 鈥� are going to end up graduating from high school without the skills they will need,鈥� Norton said. 鈥淲ithout the test, they will just be passed along. I can鈥檛 just trust that my kid is getting the basic level of what he needs. I need a bar set where he will get the level of education he needs.鈥�

Students in Massachusetts still will have to take the MCAS in their sophomore year of high school, and the scores will be used to assess their overall learning. But failing the test won鈥檛 be a barrier to graduation beginning with the class of 2025. The state is still debating how 鈥� or whether 鈥� to replace the MCAS with other types of required courses, evaluations or measurements.

High school students in Massachusetts and most states still have to satisfy other graduation requirements, which usually include four years of English and a number of other core subjects such as mathematics, sciences and social studies. Those requirements vary widely across the country, however, as most are set by individual school districts.

In New York, the State Education Department in 2019 began a multiyear process of rethinking high school graduation requirements and the Regents Exam. The department decided last month to phase out the exit exam and replace it with something called a 鈥淧ortrait of a Graduate,鈥� including seven areas of study in which a student must establish proficiency. Credit options include capstone projects, work-based learning experiences and internships, as well as academic achievement. Several other states have moved recently to a similar approach.

Harry Feder, executive director of FairTest, an advocacy group that works to limit standardized testing, said course grades do a better job of assessing students鈥� abilities.

鈥淪tandardized tests are poor ways of incentivizing and measuring the kinds of skills and knowledge we should have high school kids focusing on,鈥� Feder said. 鈥淵ou get 鈥榯eaching to the test鈥� that doesn鈥檛 bear much of a relationship to the kinds of things that kids are being asked to do when they go on to college or the workplace.鈥�

Max Page, president of the Massachusetts Teachers Association union, said phrases such as 鈥渢eaching to the test鈥� disrespect teachers and their ability to know when students have mastered content and competency. The high school tests are first taken in the 10th grade in Massachusetts. If the kids don鈥檛 pass, they can retake the exam in the 11th or 12th grade.

鈥淓ducators are still evaluating students,鈥� he said. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a mirage to say that everything that a student does in education can be measured by a standardized test in the 10th grade. Education, of course, goes through the 12th grade.鈥�

He added that course grades are still a good predictor of how much a student knows.

Colorado鈥檚 menu

Several of the experts and groups on both sides of the debate point to Colorado as a blueprint for how to move away from graduation test requirements.

Colorado, which made the switch with the graduating class of 2021, now allows school districts to choose from a menu of assessment techniques, such as SAT or ACT scores, or demonstration of workforce readiness in various skill areas.

A state task force created by the legislature recently to the education accreditation system to 鈥渂etter reflect diverse student needs and smaller school populations.鈥� They include creating assessments that adapt to student needs, offering multilingual options, and providing quicker results to understand student progress.

The state hopes the menu of assessment options will support local flexibility, said Danielle Ongart, assistant commissioner for student pathways and engagement at the Colorado Department of Education.

鈥淒epending on what the student wants for themselves, they have the ability to show what they know,鈥� she said in an interview. In particular, she said, the menu allows for industry certificates, if a student knows what type of work they want to do. That includes areas such as computer science or quantum computing.

鈥淚t allows students to better understand themselves and explain what they can do, what they are good at, and what they want to do,鈥� she said.

is part of States Newsroom, a nonprofit news network supported by grants and a coalition of donors as a 501c(3) public charity. Stateline maintains editorial independence. Contact Editor Scott S. Greenberger for questions: info@stateline.org. Follow Stateline on and .

When 19-year-old Aleysha Ortiz told Hartford City Council members in May that the public school system stole her education, she had to memorize her speech.

Ortiz, who was a senior at Hartford Public High School at the time, wrote the speech using the talk-to-text function on her phone. She listened to it repeatedly to memorize it.

That鈥檚 because she was never taught to read or write 鈥� despite attending schools in Hartford since she was 6.

Ortiz, who came to Hartford from Puerto Rico with her family when she was young, struggled with language and other challenges along the way. But a confluence of circumstances, apparent apathy and institutional inertia pushed her haphazardly through the school system, according to Ortiz, her attorney and district officials.

Those officials, in statements that her attorney says display 鈥渟hocking鈥� educational neglect, have acknowledged that Ortiz never received instruction in reading.

Despite this, she received her diploma this spring after improving her grades in high school 鈥� with help from the speech-to-text function 鈥� and getting on the honor roll. She began her studies at the University of Connecticut this summer.

Ortiz can鈥檛 read even most one-syllable words. The words she can read were memorized during karaoke or from subtitles at the bottom of TV screens and associating the words she saw with what she heard, she said.

鈥淚 was pushed through. I was moved from class to class not being taught anything,鈥� Ortiz told The Connecticut Mirror during a series of interviews. 鈥淭hey stole something from me 鈥� I wanted to do more, and I didn鈥檛 have the chance to do that.鈥�

Ortiz was diagnosed with a speech impediment and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) in early childhood and has been classified as a student with a disability for 鈥渁s long as I can remember,鈥� she said.

Ortiz also wasn鈥檛 taught how to tell time or how to count money. She can barely hold a pencil because of unaddressed issues with hand fatigue and disputes about school-based occupational therapy, she and her attorney said. She learned basic math, like addition, but has no other math skills.

Accommodations in her Individualized Education Plan, which spell out what services students will receive that school year, allowed her to audio-record classes and meetings with school leadership because of her inability to read or write in high school.

In recordings shared with the CT Mirror, made from March through June of this year, district officials acknowledged that in 12 years, Ortiz never received reading instruction or intervention. The CT Mirror also reviewed Ortiz鈥檚 educational records, including her recent IEPs and other documents.

鈥淚n my review of Aleysha鈥檚 IEP, she was never provided reading instruction,鈥� Noreen Trenchard, a special education administrator for the district, said at a May 29 Planning and Placement Team (PPT) meeting. 鈥淲hat is most concerning to me, honestly, at this time, is 鈥� with all of that information prior to today, no direct reading instruction was provided for her, and no PPT was requested to add that to an IEP. 鈥� That鈥檚 very concerning, very, very concerning.鈥�

Trenchard did not respond to a request for comment.

Ortiz said her mother鈥檚 ability to advocate for her was limited because of language barriers, insufficient translation services, and because the family didn鈥檛 know their legal rights to challenge district decisions.

Ortiz filed for 鈥渄ue process鈥� against the district in late June, which is a legal procedure in special education that鈥檚 triggered when families feel their rights were violated.

Ortiz鈥檚 lawyer, , said the young woman鈥檚 story may be one of the 鈥渕ost shocking cases鈥� of educational neglect she has seen in 24 years.

鈥淚t is really shocking, and it should never have happened and shouldn鈥檛 be happening,鈥� Spencer said. 鈥淗er whole future is going to be impacted.鈥�

Ortiz repeatedly described her special education experience with one word: traumatic.

She said she was unlawfully restrained, spent months in classrooms without a special education teacher or paraeducators, and was ridiculed by untrained staff who would laugh at her.

Her time in Hartford Public Schools was defined by feelings of isolation and loneliness as she sat in the back of classrooms for years and wished she would be able to do what the other kids were doing, she said.

While other students made friends and learned basic math and reading skills, Ortiz said she was stuck tracing letter worksheets on her own from first grade well into her middle school years.

Since first grade, she said, teachers, school leaders and district administrators failed her.

In a recording of a June 6 meeting with Trenchard, the district鈥檚 special education administrator, Ortiz can be heard saying she was denied the right to a fair education when teachers didn鈥檛 teach her how to write, when disability testing wasn鈥檛 done accurately and when she felt shamed by educators after she brought up how her IEP wasn鈥檛 being followed correctly.

鈥淧eople didn鈥檛 forget about me 鈥� no 鈥� people chose not to [educate me]. People chose not to [change] my IEP. People chose not to do this and that and this and that,鈥� Ortiz said at the meeting. 鈥淚鈥檓 the one paying the consequences, while those people are still getting their checks.鈥�

Ortiz tried to teach herself and make up for the areas her formal education lacked, but through those efforts, the 19-year-old said, she also lost the chance to just be a kid.

鈥淏asically [in high school], I would go to class. I would record and try to memorize everything the teacher said and what I wanted to write. Then, when I went home, I would stay and hear the recordings. I basically went to school two times in one day,鈥� Ortiz said.

鈥淚 wanted to join clubs, but I couldn鈥檛 do that because I didn鈥檛 have the time. 鈥� To this day, I鈥檝e never been out to the movie theater with friends, ever,鈥� Ortiz said. 鈥淚 didn鈥檛 have time to have fun. It was either enjoy myself or fail my classes, and maybe if I was more ahead in reading or writing, I would鈥檝e had time [to make friends].鈥�

Ortiz鈥檚 story can鈥檛 be defined as a student who fell through the cracks 鈥� several people knew how her education was being neglected and did nothing, Spencer said.

鈥淪he鈥檚 had so many teachers. I don鈥檛 know how everybody failed her,鈥� Spencer said. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know how the district could have passed her through. I don鈥檛 understand how this happened. It鈥檚 negligence, in my opinion.鈥�

The district declined to 鈥渟peak specifically to student matters,鈥� because of 鈥渟tate and federal legal obligations,鈥� after requests for comment by the CT Mirror, particularly in regards to why it took so long to find a problem with Ortiz鈥檚 academic progress and whether officials were aware of similar situations happening with other students in Hartford.

But in a meeting on June 6, Trenchard acknowledged that educators may have violated Ortiz鈥檚 IEP, which is a legally binding document under the  and outlines the services and accommodations that will make a student with a disability successful in a classroom.

鈥淎nd truthfully, from what I鈥檝e seen, I see that you didn鈥檛 even have an appropriate IEP,鈥� Trenchard said.

鈥淧eople got to you too late, which has been the story of your life here,鈥� a Hartford Public High School administrator can be heard telling Ortiz in the recording from the meeting on June 6, despite Ortiz saying she had raised concerns for several years and they were never formally addressed.

Ortiz was able to graduate because she had met all her credit requirements, but she says she was only able to 鈥渟urvive鈥� high school through the use of speech-to-text applications and a calculator.

And though limited, the accommodations helped Ortiz become an honor-roll student and led to her acceptance to several colleges, including the University of Connecticut-Hartford, which she began attending part-time in August.

Ortiz鈥檚 success may be unique, but her challenges in the district are not, several current and former staff members from the school district told the CT Mirror.

鈥淚 think this happens a lot through Hartford schools,鈥� said a Hartford paraeducator who requested anonymity for fear of retaliation. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 think a lot of kids in Hartford get their services. She鈥檚 not the only one. 鈥� Any school [in the district], you鈥檒l find kids, even that are not in special ed, that don鈥檛 even know how to read and write 鈥� they just pass them over.鈥�

鈥淯nfortunately, the way the district runs, it鈥檚 short-staffed. It鈥檚 fast-paced,鈥� said a social worker who worked with Ortiz in high school and also requested anonymity for fear of retaliation. 鈥淲hile Aleysha is a very sad and touching story, it is one of many in the district that get overlooked.鈥�

Ortiz and her attorney think so too.

鈥淥ne of the reasons I didn鈥檛 drop out was from anger 鈥� and knowing that I might not be the only one, but you don鈥檛 hear it around,鈥� Ortiz said. 鈥淲ith me, people knew about it and didn鈥檛 want to do their job, and knowing this 鈥� it must be happening in other places.鈥�

鈥淚t鈥檚 happening all the time, and it鈥檚 not just Hartford,鈥� Spencer said.

Aleysha鈥檚 story

At the age of 32, Carmen Cruz decided to migrate from Puerto Rico to the South End of Hartford with three of her four children, including Ortiz, who was 5 at the time, the second-youngest.

Ortiz鈥檚 mother declined interview requests, but Ortiz said her family came to the United States because services for students with disabilities were limited in Puerto Rico.

鈥淲e heard Connecticut had the best education and things like that, which is one of the reasons we came to Hartford,鈥� Ortiz said. 鈥淲e came to get better opportunities.”

In testimony to state lawmakers for more school funding earlier this year, Ortiz described preparing for her first day of first grade at Burr School, when the school educated grades K-8. That day was full of nerves but also tinges of excitement.

Ortiz only spoke Spanish, and learning English with a speech disability would be challenging. But Ortiz said her mother thought she would get the proper services and support to make sure she was successful.

鈥淭he first day of school, I was holding my mom鈥檚 hand and didn鈥檛 want to let go,鈥� she said in the testimony. 鈥淚 finally did, and I believe it was the biggest mistake of my life. 鈥� From the first day, I struggled so much.鈥�

Despite bringing a signed document from the Puerto Rico Department of Education outlining the need for occupational therapy, the service was never provided to Ortiz in Hartford Public Schools, according to her IEP and audio recordings.

For many of her primary school years, Ortiz admits, she struggled with behavioral issues, including throwing things in a classroom, screaming and running away. As she鈥檚 grown older, Ortiz said, she realized those behaviors were rooted in anger that manifested from an inability to communicate.

Throughout elementary school, Ortiz was often isolated from classmates and engaged in activities that didn鈥檛 pertain to learning, including organizing books, sweeping, resting her head on the desk and drawing pictures in the back of the room, she said. Through fifth grade, the only school work she was assigned was tracing letters on worksheets.

鈥淚nstead of teaching me, they would tell me 鈥楬ere, you go play games over there.鈥� And I鈥檇 see the other kids and would get angry,鈥� Ortiz said. 鈥淚 would just look and stare at the other kids doing their work. 鈥� It got to a point where I was the bad kid, and it felt good 鈥� because even though I was not like the other kids, at least I was something. And that, for me, was what mattered. I was something to someone [even if it meant getting in trouble].鈥�

Ortiz described several instances where she was removed by security guards by force, including a prone restraint practice where she would be forced onto her stomach and a knee was put on her back to the point that, she said, she couldn鈥檛 breathe.

Harford Public Schools did not comment on Ortiz鈥檚 allegations, but said, in general, 鈥減hysical intervention and seclusion are only used as a last resort and emergency intervention, by certified personnel, for students, after other verbal and nonverbal strategies have been attempted and only when the student presents immediate or imminent injury to the student or to others.鈥�

Ortiz said that wasn鈥檛 her experience.

鈥淚nstead of the security guards trying to have a conversation with me, they would literally just remove me by force,鈥� Ortiz said. 鈥淚 remember the principal came in, and she was like, 鈥楾hat鈥檚 not how you do it! That鈥檚 not how you do it! Check if she has marks.鈥� 鈥� I was traumatized. 鈥� and I was [thinking] 鈥榃ow, this is how America is?’鈥�

When Ortiz began to learn more English skills in third grade, she said, she developed a relationship with a homeroom teacher, but her communication efforts were shut down after hearing educators discuss how they couldn鈥檛 understand her.

When another teacher asked the homeroom teacher if they knew what Ortiz was saying, the homeroom teacher responded, 鈥極h, I don鈥檛 understand what she鈥檚 saying, I just say yes to whatever she says,鈥� Ortiz said.

鈥淛ust because I鈥檓 a special education student doesn鈥檛 mean I鈥檓 deaf 鈥� it鈥檚 why I stopped talking,鈥� Ortiz said. 鈥淭hose things made me feel trapped, insecure and everything. I thought I could talk to someone, then that happened.鈥�

In fifth grade, intervention efforts were short-lived because there wasn鈥檛 enough extra staff support, Ortiz said, adding that she didn鈥檛 receive her first paraeducator until sixth grade and, even then, she spent most of her middle school career without a special education teacher.

By seventh grade, Ortiz recalled that principals said they 鈥渟hared custody鈥� of her because she spent more time in the front office than a classroom.

鈥淚nstead of sending her to class, the principal had her with her all the time,鈥� the paraeducator told the CT Mirror.

That year, Ortiz was in a classroom 鈥渘ot a lot, maybe four times,鈥� she said.

The COVID-19 pandemic hit at the end of Ortiz鈥檚 eighth-grade year.

Throughout the summer, preparing for high school, Ortiz went to local libraries and tried to use picture books to teach herself how to read. When she wasn鈥檛 successful, she got through online learning during her freshman year with Google Translate, which can scan a photo and read the text out loud.

鈥淭he way I did assignments was very difficult. When I was given something to read or write, I would use Google,鈥� Ortiz said. 鈥淚f the teacher said 鈥楢leysha, can you read this aloud?鈥� 鈥� I would turn my computer off and pretend like it died, so I didn鈥檛 have to read it. 鈥� Or with the camera off, I would repeat [what the translate app said]. That鈥檚 literally how I survived ninth grade.鈥�

Sophomore year changed everything.

It was Ortiz鈥檚 鈥渇irst time doing the same work as everybody else,鈥� she said.

鈥淚 love learning because I never had the opportunity to learn. People be like, 鈥楢leysha, why do you like to go to school all the time?鈥� And it鈥檚 because it鈥檚 something new 鈥� the amount of times I did the same thing over and over, it鈥檚 crazy,鈥� Ortiz said. 鈥淪ometimes I do complain, because we learn something new every day and it鈥檚 hard to get it, but it鈥檚 better than doing the same thing every day.鈥�

Small wins in the classroom built her confidence enough that it allowed her to open up to trusted adults in positions she once felt betrayed by in elementary school. As more people learned her story, a team of staff members gathered behind her and pushed for more services, intervention and support her junior and senior year.

But by then, she was always told any intervention was 鈥渢oo late.鈥�

鈥淪ince [my junior year], I told my case manager, I want to learn how to write, and she鈥檇 tell me, 鈥業n college, they don鈥檛 do that. They go in there, record and leave, they do the same thing you do,’鈥� Ortiz said. 鈥淚鈥檇 say 鈥榊eah, but I still want to know how to write. It鈥檚 my right. I wanted to learn,鈥� but [I was told] there wasn鈥檛 time, and there weren鈥檛 teachers to sit down and teach me.鈥�

鈥淭here鈥檚 a lot of students, and unfortunately, there鈥檚 situations like Aleysha, where she has a village behind her, advocating, pushing 鈥� and [proper services] still [were] not happening,鈥� the social worker said.

A district鈥檚 failure

Ortiz has recorded more than 700 audio files on her phone.

In her last four months in the public school system, more than a dozen of those audio recordings were either PPT meetings, requests for disability testing or administrators reviewing the results of Ortiz鈥檚 academic progress with her.

The conversations were often riddled with , with several instances of people speaking over one another or Ortiz leaving the room in tears.

鈥淭here was a lot of pushback stating that [the district doesn鈥檛] provide that at the high school level, that they would need to get creative in how they could provide these services to her, and there was always kind of a lingering talk of something would be done, but there was never anything proactive being done,鈥� the social worker said.

Meetings particularly ramped up as Ortiz got closer to graduation and as she was trying to navigate her transition into higher education.

But it always felt like there wasn鈥檛 enough time for intervention.

鈥淚 feel like right now people are like, 鈥榃ell, she鈥檚 graduating,鈥� and they just move on. They just forget about [what鈥檚 happening to me],鈥� Ortiz said in a PPT meeting on May 29. 鈥淚鈥檝e been asking, I鈥檝e been doing everything for years and years. I sat here for 12 years. And right now it鈥檚 like 鈥榃ell 鈥� we should have done this 鈥� but we didn鈥檛.’鈥�

One point of contention centered around school-based occupational therapy.

For years, Ortiz had complained of pain in her hand and an inability to hold a pencil for longer than a few minutes. In March, Ortiz鈥檚 case manager agreed to consult with an occupational therapist to see what recommendations they had.

But by May 29, district officials declined to have a formal occupational therapy evaluation.

In an emailed statement to the CT Mirror, a spokesperson from Hartford Public Schools said, 鈥淚f there is no relevant data to support a request for an evaluation, a PPT can determine that a particular type of evaluation is not appropriate at that time.鈥�

鈥淭he purpose is to be able to function in a school environment, which Aleysha has been able to do,鈥� a district official said at the May 29 PPT, despite protests from teachers and school staff that Ortiz is only able to perform in a school environment with 鈥渋ncredible difficulty.鈥�

At the meeting, district officials recommended that Ortiz type assignments on a computer going forward.

鈥淧eople expect me to use a computer for the rest of my life,鈥� Ortiz said.

The underlying concern in all the meetings, in addition to her inability to write, was also the lack of progress in her reading ability.

Ortiz and other staff members repeatedly requested dyslexia testing with the notion that, if she couldn鈥檛 receive intervention, then at least having the diagnosis could open the door to more resources after high school.

Those requests were declined by administrators, who instead reviewed previous data, then completed a series of comprehensive testing to 鈥渒now exactly where we鈥檙e at in instruction,鈥� Trenchard said at a meeting on June 13.

In May, Trenchard, the district鈥檚 special education administrator, began to review Ortiz鈥檚 case. When she went over reading results that were conducted earlier in the school year, she called them 鈥渟urprising.鈥�

鈥淸The scores] are low low, like they were surprising to me. It would make sense that reading is hard for you, but it looks like things pretty much across the board are hard,鈥� Trenchard said at a meeting on May 20. 鈥淵ou don鈥檛 know how to [read, write or do math] because nobody ever taught you. 鈥� I wish we met each other earlier 鈥� because it bothers me to hear about it and to just see that for years what was missing.鈥�

Trenchard, at a meeting on May 29, said Ortiz鈥檚 difficulties in , which are the processes of using letter/sound knowledge to write and read words in a text, could be 鈥渟ymptomatic of dyslexia鈥� but could also be 鈥渟ymptomatic of not having received instruction.鈥�

鈥淎nd in my review of Aleysha鈥檚 IEPs, she was never provided reading instruction,鈥� Trenchard said, adding that she didn鈥檛 believe Ortiz was dyslexic because 鈥渢here are many missing pieces toward even leaning toward that diagnosis.鈥�

Spencer, however, argues that the district violated its legal obligation to provide dyslexia testing because there was a reasonable belief that it could have been an issue.

鈥淚f she was showing no reading issues, and all the testing showed she was fine, and she was on grade level, and she just wanted to get the testing 鈥� then they could have an argument,鈥� Spencer said. 鈥淏ut, when it鈥檚 a suspected area, it must be tested. 鈥� There鈥檚 no way a reasonable person would have overlooked this.鈥�

Ortiz received a comprehensive reading evaluation on June 6 and scored 鈥渧ery poor鈥� in every category. Ortiz needed to be taught every reading and spelling skill, according to the test results.

And beyond failing to provide basic education, the district may have also failed to provide an appropriate IEP, and with the limited accommodations that were written, they were not consistently implemented or provided, Trenchard said in one of the recordings.

At Ortiz鈥檚 last PPT meeting on June 14, just two days before graduation, district officials recommended that she defer her diploma and take 100 hours of reading intervention over the summer at the district鈥檚 central office.

Without speaking to Ortiz鈥檚 case, Hartford Public Schools told the CT Mirror that recommendations are made 鈥渙n an individualized basis by the student鈥檚 PPT,鈥� and that a student鈥檚 exit criteria could be reviewed or revised 鈥渦p to and including the day of graduation if necessary.鈥�

Ortiz and several of her teachers shared a hesitancy about the deferment plan, especially in regards to uncertainty from the district about who would provide direct instruction to Ortiz if she stayed back amid millions of dollars of budget cuts in the upcoming school year.

鈥淭he bigger question is who is doing this? 鈥� As of right now, we are working with very minimal staffing, and our special ed staff is doing everything they can, but there鈥檚 no one here,鈥� a teacher at the PPT meeting said.

鈥淵ou can鈥檛 require me not to take my diploma and expect me to go along with whatever you say, knowing damn well we don鈥檛 have the people here,鈥� Ortiz said at the meeting. 鈥淵ou鈥檙e saying we have the teachers training, we have the people here 鈥� where are they? If they are here, and they are training, where are they?鈥�

Ortiz was also set to begin a mandatory transition to college program at UConn that ran from 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. throughout the summer. The district did not provide any further accommodations or compromise for reading intervention, according to the audio recording of the meeting.

Ortiz ultimately decided to accept her diploma. By the time she had graduated from Hartford Public Schools, she hadn鈥檛 been tested for dyslexia and had never received reading intervention.

Systemic shortfalls

At the same time that Ortiz, her advocates and district leaders met about additional accommodations and intervention services, the district also announced a looming  for the upcoming school year.

 200 special education teachers, 360 paraeducators and 150 counselors, social workers and school psychologists were employed across the district鈥檚 schools in 2022-23.

At Hartford Public High School, which Ortiz attended, there were 21 special education teachers, 19 paras and about 15 social workers, counselors and school psychologists in . With over 109 students with disabilities enrolled at the school, social workers could be assigned dozens of cases.

鈥淎t the end of the 2022-23 school year, we were short-staffed multiple social workers in the building. Myself, alone, was required to service 50 or more students,鈥� said Ortiz鈥檚 former social worker, who added that she ultimately left the district because of the workload.

鈥淸A big part of why I left] comes down to not being able to fully provide children with what they need, and becoming a part of the failure,鈥� she said. 鈥淚 was part of that team of service providers who didn鈥檛 always meet Aleysha where she needed perfectly every month. 鈥� There were times I wouldn鈥檛 see her for two weeks. 鈥� It wasn鈥檛 fair to her, but due to the system of the school and the district, we did the best we could, but that鈥檚 not the answer we should be giving, especially for students like Aleysha.鈥�

Ortiz was assigned a handful of different social workers during her time at Hartford Public High School because of staffing turnover, the social worker said.

鈥淭here鈥檚 plenty of students who are kind of slipping through the cracks,鈥� she added.

When asked about student-teacher ratios in special education, Hartford Public Schools said 鈥渃aseloads are specific to each school,鈥� and depends on 鈥渆ach PPT according to each student鈥檚 individualized needs.鈥�

With the expiration of federal COVID-19 relief funds in September, the district cut school staff by 8% by eliminating 229 roles, a majority of which were temporary or non-certified employees like social workers, paraeducators, resource teachers, student engagement specialists and family community school support providers who were hired during the pandemic.

Hartford Public Schools, after its final budget passed in July, lost a total of about 30 counselors, psychologists and social workers.

A spokesperson from the district said that paraeducator staffing has increased from 457 in 2023-24 to 460 in 2024-25, with an increase of 44 special education para positions and a decrease of 41 in all other para positions.

Despite the increase, school staff and education stakeholders say they still anticipate drawbacks in the classroom, including a growing difficulty to provide individualized services and larger classroom sizes for already struggling teachers.

Staffing levels at schools are 鈥渄isconcerting,鈥� Spencer said.

鈥淭hey were bad before COVID, but they are really bad right now,鈥� Spencer said. 鈥淪chools are not implementing IEPs, are not identifying children, they鈥檙e not providing the staff that are required, and it is a real crisis.鈥�

A spokesperson from Hartford Public Schools said that 鈥渟taff turnover for any position causes a ripple effect for schools, not just special education.鈥�

鈥淗artford Public Schools is actively working to fill special education vacancies via targeted approaches such as building partnerships with universities, cultivating internal pathways for paraeducators interested in becoming teachers, utilizing social media and attending job fairs,鈥� the spokesperson said.

A  from the state Department of Education showed the problem is not just in Hartford but that school staffing shortages are occurring across the state.

Ortiz was front and center in funding advocacy her senior year through letters to the city council, , state Department of Education and a senior capstone project titled 鈥淪pecial Education: A systemic failure.鈥�

鈥淚 should have had the help of a special education teacher, a paraprofessional, lessons designed to meet me where I was and challenge me, speech therapy, and occupational therapy. I felt like [no one] cared about my future, because I didn鈥檛 receive those supports. I now realize that this was due to a lack of funding and the inability to keep good teachers and staff,鈥� Ortiz wrote to state legislators.

Ortiz told the CT Mirror that she shared her story so her experience doesn鈥檛 repeat in other children.

鈥淚t鈥檚 knowing that more kids are falling through the cracks of the system, and we are still making it seem like everything鈥檚 great, that we鈥檙e doing better for the next generation, and I always ask 鈥榃hen?’鈥� Ortiz said. 鈥淭he amount of times I would try to look for stories that can relate to me, so I could be like 鈥極K, I鈥檓 not the only one.鈥� I would try to do that, I would Google people that went to college and did not know how to read. I couldn鈥檛 find anyone. 鈥� So maybe if I am the first, and I know I鈥檓 not, maybe people can be like, 鈥楾hat person made it.’ 鈥�