<p>Two weeks before my Class 10 board exams, I lost my eyesight. There was no time to request a modified question paper from the CBSE that excluded visual-based questions. I was assigned a scribe. I painstakingly recreated diagrams—from convex to concave mirrors—on rough sheets so my scribe could replicate them. I completed the exam and secured a full CGPA.</p>.<p>But when I returned to my school seeking admission to Class 11, I was told, "You are abnormal. We are a normal school."</p>.<p>That was almost a decade ago. But the fight for access, respect, and dignity in India’s school system continues. The only difference now is that the legal framework has strengthened—and the courts are finally beginning to step up.</p>.<p>Last month, in a landmark judgement, the Delhi High Court ruled in Aadriti Pathak vs GD Goenka Public School that the school’s refusal to readmit a child with autism was not just callous—it was illegal. Aadriti had been enrolled at the school under the general category. When she faced challenges adjusting, her parents offered sustained support, paying fees and providing a shadow teacher during her time away.</p>.Talking to the young .<p>Instead of accommodating her needs, the school shut its doors. Its reasons—“no vacancy” and “behavioural concerns”—failed to hold up in court. Justice Vikas Mahajan rightly concluded that the school’s actions violated Sections 16 and 17 of the Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act, 2016 (RPwD Act), which mandate inclusive education and prohibit discrimination in schools—government and private alike.</p>.<p>The RPwD Act, enacted to align Indian law with the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), provides a robust legal architecture to uphold the right to inclusive education. Section 16 obligates all recognised educational institutions to admit children with disabilities without discrimination, ensure physical and curriculum accessibility, provide necessary support systems, and offer reasonable accommodations tailored to each child’s needs. Section 17 strengthens these protections by requiring access to assistive technology, transport facilities, accessible books and materials, and curriculum modifications such as extra time, scribes, and language exemptions.</p>.<p>Further, the RPwD Rules, 2017, prescribe detailed accessibility norms for school infrastructure, digital education platforms, and teaching practices. Rule 15 empowers the Department of Empowerment of Persons with Disabilities (DEPwD) to continuously update these standards. In 2024, this led to the notification of the Accessibility Code for Educational Institutions, which mandates physical, functional, and ICT accessibility across all educational spaces, with cost-effective retrofitting measures for existing buildings.</p>.<p>The Right to Education Act, 2009, as amended post the Rajneesh Kumar Pandey case, requires schools to ensure barrier-free access and mandates one special educator for every 10 students with disabilities in primary school and every 15 in upper primary. Schools that fail to comply can lose their recognition. The National Education Policy (NEP), 2020, goes further, acknowledging the systemic transformation required to build inclusive schools. It mandates flexible curricula, multimodal content, differentiated instruction, and individualised education plans (IEPs). Crucially, it demands the training of all teachers—not just special educators—to support children with disabilities and promote equity in learning outcomes. </p>.<p>Government schemes like Samagra Shiksha Abhiyan provide resources for infrastructure upgrades, teacher training, aids and appliances, transportation, and scribe allowances. The Pragyata Guidelines and Guidelines for e-Content for CwDs stress the importance of universal design, multimodal formats, and accessible digital learning. But without school-level accountability and enforcement, these efforts fall short.</p>.<p>Creating accessible school environments is only the first step. True inclusion depends on what happens inside the classroom. Educators must move beyond rigid curricula and one-size-fits-all assessments. They must receive robust training on inclusive pedagogies, cross-disability learning, and the use of assistive technologies. </p>.<p>Schools need immediate and proactive compliance. They must shed the outdated notion of “normalcy” and embrace the full spectrum of learning needs. Teachers and principals must be trained, infrastructure made accessible, and admissions policies reviewed to eliminate all discriminatory practices. Violations must invite real consequences—not just criticism.</p>.<p>Governments must go beyond guidelines and ensure implementation. Recognition, licensing, and funding must be conditional on inclusivity. Monitoring bodies like the National Commission for the Protection of Child Rights and its state-level counterparts must investigate and act when complaints are raised. Parents must be partners, not adversaries. And most importantly, children must be seen not as burdens but as bearers of rights and potential.</p>.<p>The law and the jurisprudence are on our side. But it shouldn’t take a court battle for a child to be allowed to go to school. Inclusive education is not a favour. It is the foundation of a just and equitable society.</p>.<p><span class="italic"><em>(The writer is a research fellow at the Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy and a consultant at Mission Accessibility)</em></span></p>
<p>Two weeks before my Class 10 board exams, I lost my eyesight. There was no time to request a modified question paper from the CBSE that excluded visual-based questions. I was assigned a scribe. I painstakingly recreated diagrams—from convex to concave mirrors—on rough sheets so my scribe could replicate them. I completed the exam and secured a full CGPA.</p>.<p>But when I returned to my school seeking admission to Class 11, I was told, "You are abnormal. We are a normal school."</p>.<p>That was almost a decade ago. But the fight for access, respect, and dignity in India’s school system continues. The only difference now is that the legal framework has strengthened—and the courts are finally beginning to step up.</p>.<p>Last month, in a landmark judgement, the Delhi High Court ruled in Aadriti Pathak vs GD Goenka Public School that the school’s refusal to readmit a child with autism was not just callous—it was illegal. Aadriti had been enrolled at the school under the general category. When she faced challenges adjusting, her parents offered sustained support, paying fees and providing a shadow teacher during her time away.</p>.Talking to the young .<p>Instead of accommodating her needs, the school shut its doors. Its reasons—“no vacancy” and “behavioural concerns”—failed to hold up in court. Justice Vikas Mahajan rightly concluded that the school’s actions violated Sections 16 and 17 of the Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act, 2016 (RPwD Act), which mandate inclusive education and prohibit discrimination in schools—government and private alike.</p>.<p>The RPwD Act, enacted to align Indian law with the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), provides a robust legal architecture to uphold the right to inclusive education. Section 16 obligates all recognised educational institutions to admit children with disabilities without discrimination, ensure physical and curriculum accessibility, provide necessary support systems, and offer reasonable accommodations tailored to each child’s needs. Section 17 strengthens these protections by requiring access to assistive technology, transport facilities, accessible books and materials, and curriculum modifications such as extra time, scribes, and language exemptions.</p>.<p>Further, the RPwD Rules, 2017, prescribe detailed accessibility norms for school infrastructure, digital education platforms, and teaching practices. Rule 15 empowers the Department of Empowerment of Persons with Disabilities (DEPwD) to continuously update these standards. In 2024, this led to the notification of the Accessibility Code for Educational Institutions, which mandates physical, functional, and ICT accessibility across all educational spaces, with cost-effective retrofitting measures for existing buildings.</p>.<p>The Right to Education Act, 2009, as amended post the Rajneesh Kumar Pandey case, requires schools to ensure barrier-free access and mandates one special educator for every 10 students with disabilities in primary school and every 15 in upper primary. Schools that fail to comply can lose their recognition. The National Education Policy (NEP), 2020, goes further, acknowledging the systemic transformation required to build inclusive schools. It mandates flexible curricula, multimodal content, differentiated instruction, and individualised education plans (IEPs). Crucially, it demands the training of all teachers—not just special educators—to support children with disabilities and promote equity in learning outcomes. </p>.<p>Government schemes like Samagra Shiksha Abhiyan provide resources for infrastructure upgrades, teacher training, aids and appliances, transportation, and scribe allowances. The Pragyata Guidelines and Guidelines for e-Content for CwDs stress the importance of universal design, multimodal formats, and accessible digital learning. But without school-level accountability and enforcement, these efforts fall short.</p>.<p>Creating accessible school environments is only the first step. True inclusion depends on what happens inside the classroom. Educators must move beyond rigid curricula and one-size-fits-all assessments. They must receive robust training on inclusive pedagogies, cross-disability learning, and the use of assistive technologies. </p>.<p>Schools need immediate and proactive compliance. They must shed the outdated notion of “normalcy” and embrace the full spectrum of learning needs. Teachers and principals must be trained, infrastructure made accessible, and admissions policies reviewed to eliminate all discriminatory practices. Violations must invite real consequences—not just criticism.</p>.<p>Governments must go beyond guidelines and ensure implementation. Recognition, licensing, and funding must be conditional on inclusivity. Monitoring bodies like the National Commission for the Protection of Child Rights and its state-level counterparts must investigate and act when complaints are raised. Parents must be partners, not adversaries. And most importantly, children must be seen not as burdens but as bearers of rights and potential.</p>.<p>The law and the jurisprudence are on our side. But it shouldn’t take a court battle for a child to be allowed to go to school. Inclusive education is not a favour. It is the foundation of a just and equitable society.</p>.<p><span class="italic"><em>(The writer is a research fellow at the Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy and a consultant at Mission Accessibility)</em></span></p>