SEAL OF DISAPPROVAL: Zach Zagone, 19, earned a high-school diploma from Pioneer School in July. His mother, Polly, says Portland Public Schools should have done more for him. IMAGE: Matt D’Annunzio

When Zach Zagone was in the sixth grade, he bounced between schools as a result of his Asperger’s syndrome and Portland Public Schools’ inability to accommodate the boy.

So Zach’s mother, Polly Zagone, says she was relieved when he finally settled at Pioneer School, a unique PPS program designed to help special-education students from kindergarten to age 21 who require more one-on-one help.

Founded in 1999, Pioneer wasn’t just an innovative program. It was a money-saving response to the high cost of teaching Portland’s special-education students, many of whom required out-of-district placements at taxpayer expense.

The program, consisting of three buildings at Southeast 71st Avenue and Division Street, and a fourth satellite in Northeast Portland, continues to save PPS money in some cases.

But Polly Zagone and several other parents of Pioneer’s 250 students point to other problems.

Their children—most of whom have average or above-average IQs—aren’t getting the academic classes they need, the parents say.

They’re not receiving the same school lunches other PPS students get.

And some students, like now-19-year-old Zach, are graduating without access to art or second-language classes that Zagone says her son should have had.

“It’s like some big memo went out—‘Don’t worry about these kids’—and they sent it to everyone,” Zagone says.

On June 1, Zagone sent a complaint about Pioneer to the federal Office for Civil Rights in Seattle, alleging discrimination against the school’s students.

“Unfortunately, the district has failed to provide the program with many of the basics that are provided to other PPS students,” she wrote.

On July 15, the civil rights office said it would investigate some of Zagone’s allegations—namely, that the school’s library lacks the resources of other libraries in the district and that its school lunches are inadequate. (PPS delivers pre-packaged meals to Pioneer students in their classrooms, meaning students have no choice about what they eat on any given day. Unlike many other schools in the district, Pioneer has no salad bar.)

It’s “like they’re in jail,” Zagone says.

PPS has responded to the civil-rights office, says district spokesman Matt Shelby.

But Zagone says the district has postponed a meeting with her to discuss her concerns.

That could be because the district is planning a major overhaul of all its special-education programs in the coming months, following the release of a new performance audit of PPS’s special education classes.

Zagone says she was told to expect the results in November. Seattle consultant Pat Steinberg conducted the audit but says it won’t be ready until January.

However, a May 29, 2009, email from Portland’s director of special education, Joanne Mabbott, may offer a hint of what’s to come.

The email was sent to Zagone from Mabbott but addressed to another PPS administrator, suggesting Mabbott didn’t mean to send it to the Pioneer parent.

Addressing Zagone’s complaints, it said: “Just another example of why we need to put these classrooms back in high schools or send the students to out of district placements.”

Shelby says no decisions have been made about special education in PPS.

Zagone and other parents want Pioneer to continue.

“I still believe Pioneer is a crucial part of the continuum of special-education programs that’s needed in Portland,” Zagone says.

But parents have additional concerns about Pioneer.

Last spring, PPS Superintendent Carole Smith removed Pioneer’s founding principal, Stacey Sibley, in what the district says was a move to save money.

Yet Sibley was the administrator who held Pioneer together, parents say.

“She was wonderful,” says Donna DePaolo, mother of 9-year-old Rory. “She knew what she was doing, and she had a good handle on how to staff the building.”