The AJC also found that the 2016 DOJ lawsuit cited problems that persist in some GNETS programs across the state: separate facilities, and inadequate staffing and services, raising new questions about the funding and direction of the program.

The federal DOJ lawsuit accused the state of violating federal law by “unnecessarily segregating students with disabilities from their peers.”

The state insists that its responsibility is limited to passing along federal and state funds and monitoring how it is spent. The state has chosen not to use the scope of its powers to fully monitor and direct what the GNETS program delivers.

The Richards never wanted their son in a GNETS program. They had heard horror stories stemming from the federal investigation and feared that being placed in the program would only worsen his condition.

As a 2-year-old, he was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, a condition related to brain development that can cause problems with communication and getting along with others socially. The parents said the disorder made it difficult for their son to regulate his emotions, especially when in an unfamiliar, frenzied environment, sometimes resulting in emotional and physical responses.

In a Gwinnett County special education meeting to discuss where their son should be placed, everyone but the Richards voted to send him to GNETS.

“They blindsided us and they railroaded us,” said his father, Gabe Richard.

The Richards went with GNETS.

In that moment, she said, she knew she had just made the biggest mistake of her life.

That’s how former teachers, parents of students and attorneys who spoke with the AJC all depicted the patchwork of 24 GNETS programs throughout the state. In some programs, staff promptly work with children so they can return to their neighborhood schools. In others, little is done and the students appear to languish.

On a warm spring day in late March, Melanie and Chip Glazier’s daughter, then nearly 18, walks around a therapeutic horse farm in Newnan, chatting with other riders and parents alike. A bright, bubbly personality, she easily asks lots of questions and shares details about herself.

But as a middle school student from 2017 to 2021 at Mainstay, a GNETS program in Fayette County, the Glaziers said her personality faded.

The couple’s daughter has both autism and atypical Prader-Willi syndrome, a rare genetic disorder that causes insatiable hunger and developmental delays.

“She would come home a lot very upset because she was missing out on other things other kids got to do. She was just kind of depressed,” Melanie Glazier said.

The differences between Mainstay and her neighborhood school were stark.

The program lacked many of the things she had at her old school, like field trips or book fairs. At one point, her parents said, a film crew had rented the gym to shoot a movie for a week, depriving students of physical education for that time. The Glaziers shared an email exchange with administrators that confirmed the incident.

Bob Grimes, a teacher’s aide turned special education teacher, retired in January after working for the Futures Program since 2019. That North Georgia GNETS program was spread across multiple locations with sharp differences.

While high school students in the program in Dawson and White counties could join nondisabled students for activities and electives as long as their behavior was not an issue, Grimes found the atmosphere at the Futures Program’s Cornelia Center in Cleveland more restrictive for the middle-school students.

“Locks on your doors,” Grimes said. “Prison-grade hinges to keep the kids in.”

At the Cornelia Center, Grimes said he also wasn’t always supported as a teacher. He had to buy supplies and wasn’t provided needed textbooks and study guides. Aides were scarce, and some teachers pushed kids to the next grade even when not ready.

Students were supposed to be there temporarily and then return to their local school. “They were not returned to their school often,” he said.

Throughout his time at the Cornelia Center, he said he was bruised, nearly broke an arm and had one of his ribs dislocated.

The Futures Program GNETS director, Meg McDuffie, disputed Grimes’ criticisms. In a detailed rebuttal, she insisted that teachers get the same resources as teachers statewide, and the program offers students therapies and individual and group counseling with licensed school counselors.

The program’s “main mission” is to help students learn “coping skills and strategies” so they can return to their neighborhood schools. Over the last three years, 15% of students returned to local schools with 3.4% coming back to GNETS, according to her statement.

She said classroom and building doors are locked for safety, as they are in most nearby schools. “There are fences around our playgrounds, as we serve students from ages 5 to 21,″ she wrote. Some have behavioral issues that can include trying to leave campus.

Another teacher, Edward Mobley, described the four years at the Horizon Academy GNETS program in South Georgia as “one of the best experiences I had as a teacher,” where he could watch a student improve and be able to return to their neighborhood school. His middle school students started each day with a “social hour” to talk about how they were feeling and review their personal goals. Mobley’s site had Chromebooks for every student, licensed counselors and a full-time nurse. He tracked student progress closely and monitored their behavior through daily logs.

But, he got a different view at conferences with other GNETS teachers, who described programs housed in separate wings, physically locked off from the rest of the building, and some lacked kitchen facilities.

Some programs had no resource officers, no on-site counselors and no mental health professionals. A few had no computers at all, he said. From what they described, “you could see the disparity among the different schools.”

Administrators at GNETS programs around the state echoed concerns in fiscal year 2024 self-assessment reports to the state Department of Education that were obtained by the AJC. They warned state officials that staffing shortages, inexperienced teachers and funding cuts were putting pressure on their programs.

“We have teaching staff who do not have education backgrounds and/or are inexperienced in the classroom,” staff at the Cedarwood program in Statesboro in southeast Georgia wrote in 2024, later noting, “We have continued to be plagued with unfilled positions and staff absences.”

“Funding has been slashed and critical therapeutic support has been lost,” wrote leaders at the Pathways Educational Program in Thomasville in South Georgia. “The focus is so much on behavioral support that the academics are sometimes put to the side.”

Contrast that with Elam Alexander Academy, a GNETS school in Macon. On a gray day in January, AJC reporters toured the school, one of four schools that responded to the news outlet’s requests, where a library was filled with shelves of books, a cafeteria with students chatting and an outdoor garden ready for new seedlings in the spring.

Brooke Cole, the director who oversees GNETS for Bibb County and nine surrounding counties, an area that includes Elam, said the public often draws misconceptions about GNETS from news reports that focus on poorly performing programs. In her county, staff stay focused on transitioning kids out of GNETS to their neighborhood school, she said.

“They don’t see that educating students is actually taking place. And sometimes you got to meet kids where they are, build them up before you can move them out.”

An AJC reporter also toured Westside School in Coweta County, which houses two programs: GNETS and a separate program geared specifically toward children with autism. The school offers a robust sensory room and “calm-down areas” where students can take breaks with items tailored to their needs.

The school moves about a quarter of its GNETS students back to a less restrictive setting every year, according to school officials. There’s a strict referral process for kids when they enter the program, and teachers make sure to offer the maximum amount of support before referring a student to GNETS, according to administrators.

Connie Lytten, principal at Westside School, said she loves her job and all of the kids they serve. The school is well supported by the county and has little staff turnover, she said.

In Georgia, 1 in 7 or about 265,000 students qualify for special education services, which can range from tutoring to intensive behavioral therapy.

Often, one of the last stops is the GNETS program.

Advocates see the program as helping some of the state’s most vulnerable students who could otherwise be placed in an institution. Critics say the program can separate students to a different school based on their disabilities, which are often behavior-related. Yet, they have no assurances they will get the education they need.

Despite some changes to the programs, such as the closure of substandard facilities, attorneys who represent kids with disabilities say the core issue remains. Students are still being separated, if not in separate schools, then in separate hallways and even separate playgrounds.

“Any representation that this isn’t a segregated program is completely unfounded. They separate these kids based on their disability,” said Craig Goodmark, who was among the attorneys who unsuccessfully sued the state in 2017 challenging the program.

Goodmark, who withdrew from the case in August after taking a new job, said some programs are still housed within a traditional school building but function as two independent schools: The kids will eat lunch separately, or the GNETS program is in a hallway separate from the rest of the school.

Goodmark said he’s even seen a school where children were directed to different playgrounds at recess. Goodmark said he witnessed a teacher tell a student not to play on the main playground and return to the area where the kids with disabilities were playing.

Just minutes into the tour of the Buice Center, her son’s new GNETS program in Gwinnett County, Nichole Richard could feel her heart pounding as she gasped for air. She was undoubtedly experiencing a panic attack — triggered by the sight of the first room teachers had shown her.

The room in the school, which is no longer part of GNETS, was tiny — maybe 8 feet by 8 feet — with no windows and made of cinder block, she said. That’s where Nichole was told her son would be sent when teachers couldn’t calm his outbursts.

Her fears were later confirmed, she said, when teachers told her their son spent time in that room to quell his emotional outbursts. The Richards said they felt the experiences only caused him to further spiral.

Nichole said her son previously suffered distress after being put in in a separate room in Cobb County. They felt he was being placed there out of convenience. District spokespeople for Cobb and Gwinnett schools said their programs follow state law which allows the use of timeout rooms.

Separating kids by themselves has been a controversial issue in Georgia. A 2010 rule change outlawed the use of seclusion rooms, where children were placed in closed rooms alone. Parents and advocates pushed for the change after a teenager in Gainesville was repeatedly placed in seclusion and then died by suicide. The new rule allows time-out or calm-down areas but they must be safe spaces with unlocked doors and students can leave if they want.

The pleas for help from GNETS administrators jumped off the pages that the AJC reviewed.

Leaders of Northstar, the GNETS program that serves several districts near the border of Tennessee, reported that “systemic staffing shortages and staff turnover” made it challenging to meet students’ needs.

Leaders of the Pathways Educational Program in Thomasville said they are struggling the most with funding. “Program funding is the #1 issue that we are facing and this is totally out of our control,” the leaders wrote. “Our program should be providing therapies to our students and we are at risk of losing these special therapies. Our staff has completed some fundraising to assist with these costs.”

These are excerpts from self-assessment forms that the state-required program administers to complete in 2024. But that unvarnished look is no more. Program leaders still do a self-assessment, but now it’s only for discussion with staff, Frick wrote in response to questions from the AJC.

That’s just one example the AJC found of how the state has pulled back in recent years from providing information on the GNETS program. There are other information gaps on test scores, graduation rates and how children in the program are faring. Test scores for GNETS students are reported with their home districts and not reported or analyzed as a group, Frick wrote.

The state is ignoring its legal responsibility, according to Leslie Lipson, an attorney who has led the charge against the GNETS system in Georgia.

Lipson said the AJC findings show the state has clearly reduced its oversight of the GNETS program compared to years past, a “deeply troubling” trend.

In his ruling in September dismissing the case, U.S. District Court Judge Michael Brown wrote that local school boards decide how to spend the GNETS funding.

Once a program receives funds, “nothing in the GNETS Rule nor any other State act requires local officials to exercise their discretion to use those funds to physically separate GNETS students or to use that money in any specific way,” Brown wrote.

The focus now shifts to the DOJ, which, as a federal agency, is in a stronger position to pursue the issues than a citizen-led lawsuit, said Devon Orland, litigation director for the Georgia Advocacy Office.

Frick, the DOE spokesperson, said she could not make anyone available to the AJC to be interviewed about GNETS and she could not comment on the DOJ lawsuit because the legal action is ongoing.

But, in court documents, including its most recent filing in September, the state challenges the allegations and the government’s right to sue.

Soon after he started at the Buice Center in Gwinnett County, the Richards watched as their son unraveled into a boy they “no longer recognized.” His emotional expressions became flat, he spoke few words and his cognitive function plummeted, they said.

Before going to GNETS, her son was progressing in school, Nichole said. “Then they put him in a room with baby toys.” The Richards said that in the rare times he did speak, he became aggressive and would curse in words he had never said before.

Bernard Watson, a spokesperson with Gwinnett County Schools, declined to comment on the Richards’ son’s case, citing student privacy laws. He said Gwinnett County stopped participating in GNETS as of the 2024-25 school year but uses the state and federal funds to provide services to its students.

The Richards took one last gamble.

A few years ago, Nichole started frequently driving her son to Athens, where he joined a group called “Extra Special People” for those with disabilities. Slowly, the boy was improving and was finally around other kids in a safe space, she said.

Nichole decided to make a bet. If there were such strong resources available for people with disabilities in the Athens area, maybe the same would be true of the schools.

She was right. The family relocated from Gwinnett County to the Athens area so their son could enroll in the neighborhood public school.

The son, who is now 16, is doing well. He rides the bus to high school and spends the full school day in classes with his nondisabled peers who are co-taught by a special education instructor, according to his individualized education plan.

He’s raising his hand in class and participating in his education plan meetings — an experience he didn’t have while at GNETS.

Finally, he’s going to a school where he feels accepted.

“He’ll always be on the autism spectrum,” Nichole said. “But his behavior recovery is real.” A low dose of antianxiety and antidepression medication to level any outbursts has helped too.

For once, the Richards say they aren’t worried about whether he will succeed.

He towers over his mom — at over 6 feet — and in many ways is a typical American teenager. He loves animation, and on a Saturday morning in June, he flicked on his iPad through dozens of drawings: a universe of characters he likens to the anime series “Pokémon,” but it’s of his own creation. In between bites of a doughnut, he explained the powers each character held.

And their family is doing better too. Pulled apart by their struggle to help their son, Nichole and Gabe Richard are now remarried.

The Richards said their journey illustrated how GNETS can hold students back, particularly those with autism. It’s a disservice to all kids to have their world “sterilized” at school, by removing children who are different, they said.

Now, the meetings about his education updates are positive and involve new descriptors of his character and behavior. He’s showing empathy, remorse, self-awareness. He’s disciplined, driven and passionate. All words that the Richards never heard to describe him before.