Seattle Schools' Update, Tuesday, October 13, 2026

Good news for SPS - Interagency Academy’s Recovery Campus is celebrating national accreditation for its work supporting students in their academic and recovery journeys.

Interagency is the only Washington State public recovery high school that meets national standards.

From SPS Communications:

The recognition marks an important milestone for a program that has supported students and families for more than a decade. The Interagency Recovery Campus grew from a partnership between Seattle Public Schools and King County Behavioral Health and Recovery Division and is Washington’s only public recovery high school.

The campus provides a supportive, sober environment where students in grades 9–12 can work toward their academic, career and recovery goals. Students have access to academic support, individualized recovery plans, on-site substance use counseling, sober support groups and connections to additional resources.

And the program is making a difference. From 2015–2025, 67% of students enrolled for more than 90 days earned or were working toward a high school diploma, while another 15% transferred to continue their education elsewhere. More than half, 53%, had more than one year of recovery following their initial enrollment.

One student described the impact:

“To keep it straightforward, if it weren’t for the school, I’d probably be dead. I was immersed in a community that was doing the work to stay sober, they did all the things we need to do, and I was taught how to do that.”

Congratulations to the many staff and school leaders who have done the work to get to this point!



Superintendent Ben Shuldiner put out his weekly message. It is quite moving (bold mine). 

Dear Seattle Public Schools Community,

I hope this newsletter finds you well. I am so happy to write to you all this week.

So, this is the Pacific Northwest clime you have all told me about?

I am writing this newsletter, looking out the window, seeing the glorious sunshine and people experiencing "sweater weather" in abundance. In this world of stress, anxiety, and fraught political relationships, I hope that all of you were able to go outside today, take a walk, if you are able, and feel a little sunshine on your body, if you are able. Today really is glorious.

I hope you noticed, twice I used the phrase "if you are able." This is on purpose.

October is Disability History Month in Washington, so designated in 2008 by the state legislature. Washington State Law

When running a school district, we think often about the needs of all 50,000 students. We try to make sure everyone has a desk, a book, a way to get to school, and a teacher in every room. This universal structure is important, as it allows us to serve the entire community. But often when we think of the whole, we can become myopic and not understand the needs of the individual.

If you have met me, you might notice I walk with a limp. Though I wish I had a great story of saving a child from a burning building, the cause of my ailment is much more mundane. I have hemophilia, and as a child I had multiple bleeds into my right ankle that caused serious bone, cartilage, and synovial membrane damage. Hemophilia runs in my family. Both my maternal grandfather and great uncle had it and died young, with my mother's father dying when she was just 4 years old. Hemophilia has been a part of my family for generations.

When I was a child, my family and I had to fight year after year to allow me to go to school, participate fully, but also know my own body and the impact of hemophilia, so I could ask for adjustments.

The craziest incident happened in middle school. I had just moved to Los Angeles from New York City, enrolling in a new school and new district, and of course having to make new friends as a 13-year-old. It was already pretty stressful.

My new school did not want to allow me to have my hemophilia medicine at school. Thus, I was possibly being denied life-saving medication, or even admittance to the school, because of a fear of liability and unwillingness to work with my family, to trust that allowing me to administer my medicine was the best way to keep me safe and at school.

To convince the district, I had to do my entire infusion in front of a panel of nurses and medical professionals, from mixing my medicine, to putting a needle in my vein, to pushing the medicine through a 30cc syringe, to putting a Band-Aid on one-handed. And since it was Los Angeles, they even made me get out of my chair, with the syringe in one hand and the needle in the other, to see if I could get outside or under a desk, just in case an earthquake struck at that exact moment. Because I was a smart aleck, I think in my frustration, I asked if they also wanted me to do a jig.

I share all of this because I think about that day often when I get emails from parents about how we are not serving the needs of their student. How we are not addressing the individual. How we seem sometimes more concerned about liability than love.

So today, as we celebrate and acknowledge Disability History Month, let's think about ways we can support and care and adjust so we serve both the whole and the individual, each according to their unique needs, each according to their desires. This will be hard. We will make mistakes, and not do things perfectly. But with grace and understanding, positive intent and comfort, we can and will do better for our children.

Thank you all for believing in SPS. With your help and hard work, SPS truly will be the best urban public school district in the country.