DALLAS — For Shundelon Ross, the prospect of a school voucher felt like the turning point she had been searching for. Her 5-year-old son, who is on the autism spectrum, had already cycled through seven different educational environments. Each time, she held onto the hope that the next one would finally be the right fit. When she watched her son wander the halls of prospective schools, clutching his favorite stuffed animal, offering high fives to staff, and staring in quiet wonder at the chickens in a schoolyard coop, she didn’t just see a child; she saw a future.
When Texas launched its Texas Education Freedom Accounts (TEFA), the promise was simple: taxpayer-funded vouchers would allow students with disabilities to escape the limitations of the public school system and access private education tailored to their specific needs. For Ross, the voucher represented a financial bridge to an elite private academy. After she was approved, her anticipation soared. She toured First Baptist Academy in Dallas, meticulously completed the application process, and waited for the decision. Then came the rejection.
The school did not accept him. For Ross, the rejection was not just a bureaucratic denial; it was a devastating reminder that for Texas’ most vulnerable students, the "freedom" promised by the voucher program remains largely theoretical. "Private does not always mean better," Ross reflected after the experience. "With more opportunity, comes more work, more heartbreak, more disappointment."
The Reality of the Voucher Gap
The narrative surrounding the TEFA program is one of high expectations colliding with a rigid, exclusionary reality. While thousands of families were deemed eligible for the accounts—at least 29,400 applicants with disabilities were approved—the practical application of these funds has proved elusive. Data obtained through public records requests indicates that by early September, approximately 27,500 students had left their awarded funds on the table. Of those, at least 7,400 families had returned their vouchers entirely, signaling a quiet exodus from a program that many had pinned their hopes on.
Critics of the voucher initiative argue that the program fundamentally misunderstands the landscape of private education. While proponents argue that private schools will eventually proliferate and adapt to meet this new demand, the current reality for parents is one of frustration and systemic barriers. The comptroller’s office, which oversees the TEFA program, has indicated it plans to survey families who opted out to better understand the systemic failures. A spokesperson suggested that various factors, including missed deadlines, reconsiderations of public school options, or families moving out of state, could contribute to the high rate of unused funds. However, for many parents in North Texas, the reasons are far more visceral.
Barriers to Admission for Students with Disabilities
For students with disabilities, the journey into the private sector is often an uphill battle defined by institutional hurdles. Steven Aleman, a senior policy specialist with Disability Rights Texas, notes that these students are inherently disadvantaged by the standard admission criteria used by many private institutions. Unlike public schools, which are mandated by federal law to provide a free, appropriate public education, private schools are not required to adhere to the same standards. They are under no obligation to develop an Individualized Education Program (IEP) or provide the specialized resources necessary to support children with complex learning needs.
"To think that this program was going to give some true freedom, some true opportunity to kids with disabilities, by and large, will never materialize," Aleman said. He describes the process as a "black box," leaving parents like Ross to navigate a system that often offers no explanation for why their child is deemed "unfit" for a seat.
Ross’s experience highlights the disconnect between the promise of the program and the reality of the admissions office. She wanted her son to be integrated into the general student population, a goal he was already achieving in public school, where he spent 80% of his day with his peers. She provided his IEP to school after school, hoping for a welcoming environment. In many cases, she received no response at all. When she finally secured a tour at First Baptist Academy, she was hopeful. She shared her son’s needs, consulted with her church community, and paid the $120 application fee.
The response was a brief, six-sentence email from the director of admissions, Elizabeth Gore. "We are not able to offer enrollment at this time," the email stated. "We want [your son] to have everything he deserves including resources that will help him thrive academically and socially. We do not have those resources at this time." When Ross attempted to seek clarification, the school went silent. The lack of transparency left her feeling as though her son had been judged on a piece of paper rather than his potential. "I kept feeling like everybody was saying my son wasn’t good enough," she said. "We want him to go somewhere where people want to support what he needs."
Private Schools and the Cost of Inclusion
Jason Lovvorn, head of school at First Baptist Academy, defends the school’s decision-making process, noting that the institution has seen a significant surge in applications since the introduction of the voucher program. He emphasizes that the school must consider a holistic view of the applicant, including test scores, interviews, and teacher recommendations. Crucially, the school’s special education department must evaluate whether it has the capacity to support a student’s specific needs without compromising the education of others.
The economic reality is that the more severe a student’s needs, the higher the cost of providing adequate services. While public schools receive state funding that can range from $900 to $36,000 per student depending on the intensity of the disability, private schools operate on different financial models. Lovvorn argues that the school’s policy against divulging specific reasons for rejection is intended to prevent further hurt. "It’s not just TEFA that has caused private schools to deny students," Lovvorn said. "Private schools have admissions practices."
Despite the criticisms, proponents of the program, including the Texas Private Schools Association, maintain that the current obstacles are merely "year one" problems. Executive Director Laura Colangelo argues that as the program matures, private schools will scale their operations and gain access to more resources, eventually becoming more inclusive. She maintains that private schools are not state-funded and cannot be expected to serve every child who applies.
A Search That Ends in Tears
For many parents, the barriers to private education exist long before an application is even submitted. Taniesha Lang, a single mother, was thrilled when her daughter was awarded $16,000 in voucher funds. It felt like a fresh start for her "baby." However, her optimism was quickly met with logistical nightmares. After attending school fairs and researching options, she found that most schools either couldn’t accommodate her daughter’s disability or were located so far away that a daily commute was impossible for a working parent.
Others, like Kimberly Watson, found themselves in a state of limbo, waiting for responses to inquiries that never arrived. "There’s no real plan, and there’s no accountability for these schools," Watson said. "There’s no excuse to ghost a family, especially with how sensitive our kids are."
The logistical challenges are compounded by the fact that many private schools specializing in disabilities charge tuition far exceeding the maximum $30,000 voucher award, with some schools in the Dallas-Fort Worth area costing upwards of $40,000. Furthermore, the timing of the voucher rollouts often failed to align with standard private school admission cycles, leaving families scrambling to find openings after most spots had already been filled.
The Burden of Choice
Education policy experts suggest that the structure of the Texas program places an unfair burden on families. Joshua Cowen, an education policy professor at Michigan State University, argues that the program relies on a misnomer. "It’s the school’s choice — not school choice," he said. By failing to ensure that participating private schools are actually equipped to accept and serve students with disabilities, lawmakers have created a system that promises opportunity without the necessary infrastructure to deliver it.
As the debate continues, thousands of families are being forced to re-evaluate their reliance on the voucher program. While 21,800 students with disabilities are currently participating in TEFA, they represent only a small fraction of the 911,300 students with disabilities currently enrolled in the Texas public school system. For many, the public system remains the only entity obligated to accept every child who walks through its doors.
For Kimberly Watson, the realization that the private sector was not a viable path led her to make a drastic life change. She is moving from Fort Worth to Frisco, choosing a new district that she believes offers a more robust special education program. "TEFA gives a lot of families false hope," she said.
Shundelon Ross, too, is moving forward, though her goal has shifted. She is no longer chasing the promise of a private education that, for her son, remains out of reach. Instead, she is searching for a public school district with an ironclad reputation for supporting children with autism. Despite the heartache of the past months, she remains resilient. She has made a promise to herself: she will find a place where her son is not just tolerated, but truly welcomed. "A school can’t raise a child by itself, and neither can parents," she said. "We need a village."
