A couple of weeks back, over ice cream cones, we told our daughter, Night Owl the news: she will be attending a new school in September. After a lot of puzzling and sleepless nights, my husband and I have concluded that right now, a private school with smaller class sizes -- and a learning approach that’s specifically attuned to her needs -- will be the best setting for her.

Like other changes she encountered this year -- a different camp and a mid-year switch to a new classroom -- my daughter “yay-ed” over the positives, seemed content that she could still see her old friends after school, and then moved on to the more important matters at hand: chocolate ice cream. I admire her ability to live in the moment and shift gracefully into new situations; she’s a free spirit and takes life in stride.

I can’t say enough positive things about her time in the CTT (collaborative team teaching) class. Her teachers were first-rate, the classroom atmosphere was truly nurturing, and she made more progress than we had thought possible in a year. I feel very lucky to have had her attend such an amazing program at our neighborhood school. CTT, when it works as it should, is a wonderful concept.

I hope that the latest reform to special education does not mean that the Bloomberg administration will try to phase out CTT and other accomodationsfor a lot of students with learning disabilities. Most of these children need an entirely different approach to learning and more attention from their teacher.  How would an already crowded, budget-strained school handle their needs?

As wonderful a time as my daughter had in her CTT class, a large classroom with all its bustle is less than ideal. She expended so much energy processing what was going on -- and trying to shut out distractions -- that by the end of the day she could barely function. My husband and I just want to give her a quiet place to learn and ensure that she never falls through the cracks, especially as the curriculum and testing become more rigorous.

In the midst of swimming, skinned knees and ice cream cones, it’s hard to think about this next phase. On one level, I'm sad to be taking my daughter away from a community she -- and the rest of our family -- have enjoyed being a part of so much. But on the other hand, we're eager to see how Night Owl will grow in her new environment.