There is a quiet crisis in Philippine education that we do not talk about enough. It is not only that many children cannot read, or that classrooms remain congested, or that teachers carry far too many burdens. It is also this: many children with disabilities are still unseen by the system that promised to serve them.
In 2022, the country passed Republic Act (RA) No. 11650, or the Inclusive Education Act. It was a landmark law. It said that no learner should be denied admission on the basis of disability. It mandated Inclusive Learning Resource Centers, child find systems, individualized education plans, support services, and reasonable accommodation. In short, it promised that children with disabilities would no longer have to beg for a place in school. They would belong there by right.
That promise matters. For too long, families have heard the answer: “Doon na lang po kayo sa school na may SPED.” (Go to a school that offers special education.) We do not have space anymore. We do not have the teacher. We do not have the facility. We do not know what to do.
RA 11650 rightly rejects that answer. But now we must confront a harder question: once a child is admitted, what happens next?
Because admission without support is not inclusion. Mainstreaming without preparation is not inclusion. Placing a child inside a regular classroom, without assistive devices, trained teachers, adapted materials, specialist support, or an individualized education plan, is not inclusion. It may satisfy a rule on paper. But for the child, the parent, and the teacher, it can become another form of abandonment.
The data should disturb us. Only around 391,000 learners with disabilities are enrolled in public schools, against an estimated 5 million children with disabilities nationwide. Of those enrolled, 75% are mainstreamed in general education classes. But based on the study by IDinsight, 68% have no special needs education teacher in their school, and 60% have no SNED resources in their school.
This is the gap between aspiration and implementation. We have opened the door, but too often we have not built the ramp, provided the materials, trained the teacher, or assigned the professional support needed for the child to actually learn.
Teachers feel this gap every day. Receiving teachers are told to accept learners with disabilities. But many are asked to do so without adequate training, classroom-ready tools, or access to specialists. SNED teachers, where they exist, are stretched. Parents are left navigating assessments, therapy, transport, and materials largely on their own, amidst an acute shortage of professionals, and even fewer, of PhilHealth-accredited practitioners. What should be a public guarantee continues to be a private struggle.
We must be very clear: the problem is not the principle of inclusion. The problem is inclusion when interpreted primarily as physical placement.
The United Nations Committee on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities has warned that placing students with disabilities in mainstream classes without structural changes to organization, curriculum, and teaching strategies does not constitute inclusion. That warning speaks directly to our situation. Inclusion requires the system to change around the learner, not simply the learner to survive inside the system.
This is why the phrase “reasonable accommodation” is so important. It does not mean just a guarantee of admission. It means the necessary and appropriate modifications and adjustments required in a particular case, without imposing a disproportionate or undue burden, so that a learner with disability can exercise the right to education on an equal basis with others.
In practical terms, this means assessment. It means knowing the child’s functional needs. It means an individualized education plan that is actually used by teachers. It means clarity on when full inclusion is appropriate, when partial inclusion with resource room support is needed, when a self-contained class is necessary, and when home-based, hospital-based, or community-based instruction may be the right temporary or alternative arrangement. For our teachers, it means guidance on what modifications may be necessary in the curriculum, what strategies for accommodation may be helpful across types of need.
At present, however, schools face unclear guidance. The implementing rules and regulations of RA 11650 were issued in December 2024, but several operational guidelines remain pending, including those on the comprehensive Individualized Education Program (IEP) framework and assessment, alternative educational programs, early intervention and transition programs, inter-agency referral systems, and private sector participation. Teachers are asking: “What curriculum should we use? Are we supposed to map out the 2020 Transition Curriculum to the 2024 IRR?” and “Are any non-mainstream arrangements such as pullouts disallowed by the law?”
This matters because laws do not implement themselves, and every day that guidance is absent, schools and students struggle. So what must be done?
First, the Department of Education (DepEd) must issue clear, practical guidance on assessment-based placement. The system must end the false choice between exclusion and automatic mainstreaming. The correct standard is not “put every child in the same room regardless of need.” The correct standard is: determine what each learner needs to participate, learn, and progress with dignity.
Second, the IEP must become the center of support. It should not be a compliance form. It should guide instruction, accommodations, learning materials, assessment, transitions, and referrals. But it must also be backed by a functioning health and social support system. Schools can identify needs, but they cannot alone provide therapy, rehabilitation, assistive devices, diagnosis, and specialized intervention. The Department of Health must ensure that qualified professionals are available in local health and referral networks, while PhilHealth must progressively cover the services and support that learners with disabilities need to participate meaningfully in school.
Third, teacher preparation must change. Every future teacher should graduate with basic competence in inclusive education, classroom adaptation, behavior support, and differentiated instruction. Current teachers need practical, job-embedded training. Moreover, receiving teachers must be provided training to support implementation.
Fourth, inclusion must lead somewhere. Today, only 30% of learners with disabilities successfully complete secondary education. Recent evidence also shows that almost none proceed to post-secondary education, whether through technical-vocational training or college. It is imperative to review our current policies of transition to senior high school, and the DepEd must work hand in hand with the Technical Education and Skills Development Authority and the Commission on Higher Education to secure pathways for tertiary education.
Fifth, while we continue to understandably build capacity as an education system, it is critical that our schools, principals, and teachers receive proper guidance on how policies should be implemented during the transition. Which previous policies are still in effect? Which parts of the IRR will have forthcoming guidelines? When can they expect what support?
That is the real meaning of inclusive education. Not admission alone, but belonging with support. Not placement alone, but participation. Not a child adjusting alone to a system, but a system finally learning how to support every child. – Rappler.com
Karol Mark Yee is the executive director of the Second Congressional Commission on Education (EDCOM 2).

