Beyond placement: inclusive early childhood education as multi-level service- system capacity in decentralised education systems

Every child has a right to learn alongside their peers, a promise written into international law and embraced by governments around the world. This promise, known as inclusive education, is meant to ensure that young children with disabilities are not just present in a classroom, but are truly part of the community, learning and growing with others. For decades, researchers have known that simply putting a child in a room with other students is not enough. A child might sit at a desk all day but remain on the sidelines, unable to join in the games, unable to reach the toys, or unsupported by adults who do not know how to adapt the day's activities. The real goal is meaningful participation, where a child is engaged, supported, and developing alongside their peers. Yet, in many places, the gap between the legal promise of inclusion and the daily reality for families remains wide. This is especially true in the early years, before a child even starts primary school, a time when development happens rapidly and depends heavily on responsive relationships and stimulating environments.

A new conceptual paper by researchers from Universitas Mataram in Indonesia explores why this gap persists and what is actually required to close it. The authors, M. A. Muazar Habibi, Abdul Kadir Jaelani, and Ika Rachmayani, argue that we have been looking at the wrong thing. For too long, governments and monitors have measured success by counting how many children are enrolled in schools or how many schools have been officially labeled as "inclusive." The researchers suggest that this approach is misleading because it stops at the front door. It counts the placement but ignores what happens once the child walks inside. To understand the full picture, the team proposes a new way of thinking about inclusion as a chain of four distinct stages: formal inclusion, access, participation, and developmental support. They suggest that moving a child from one stage to the next requires specific kinds of support, and when these supports are missing, the chain breaks.

The researchers built this idea by combining insights from several different fields, including studies on how policies are actually carried out, theories about why organizations sometimes look like they are following rules while doing something different, and research on how children with disabilities experience the world. They used the situation in Indonesia as a clear example to test their ideas. Indonesia has a strong set of laws that promise inclusive education for all children. However, the responsibility for running these schools is split between different levels of government, and the vast majority of preschools are run by private groups rather than the state. This setup creates a perfect storm where the legal promise exists, but the practical ability to deliver it is scattered and often missing.

The paper outlines a four-step journey that a child must take to truly benefit from inclusive education. The first step is formal inclusion, which is simply the legal right to be there. The second step is access, meaning the child can actually get into a school that is willing to take them. The third step is participation, where the child is not just sitting in the room but is actively involved in the daily life, play, and learning of the group. The final step is developmental support, where the child's specific needs are identified and met through coordinated help from therapists, specialists, and families. The researchers found that in many systems, including Indonesia's, the chain often breaks between these steps. A child might have the legal right and even get into a school, but without the right support, they remain on the margins, unable to participate fully or receive the specialized help they need to grow.

To move a child from one stage to the next, the system needs five specific types of capacity working together. First, there must be good governance and financing, meaning clear rules about who is responsible and enough money to pay for it. Second, the setting itself must be ready, with physical spaces that are accessible and leaders who believe in inclusion. Third, the workforce needs to be skilled, with teachers who are trained and specialists available to help. Fourth, different sectors like health, education, and social services must talk to each other and work as a team. Finally, families and communities need to be supported, with the resources and understanding to advocate for their children. The authors emphasize that these five areas are like links in a chain; if one is weak, the whole system struggles. For example, training teachers is useless if the school has no accessible materials or if there is no way to refer a child to a therapist when needed.

When the researchers looked at the evidence from Indonesia, they saw a pattern that confirms their theory. While the laws are comprehensive, the actual capacity to deliver inclusive education is thin. Only a tiny fraction of preschools are registered as inclusive, and very few teachers have received specific training. Because the system is so fragmented, the responsibility for helping a child often falls to individuals rather than the system itself. Committed teachers, school leaders, and parents often step in to fill the gaps, doing the work that the government should be doing. They might organize their own training, buy their own materials, or personally connect families with therapists. While this dedication is valuable and often the only reason inclusion happens at all, it is fragile. It depends on the energy of specific people who might leave or burn out, and it is not something that can be easily copied or scaled up.

This reliance on individual effort creates a hidden problem of inequality. When the public system does not provide the necessary support, the burden shifts to the family. Wealthier families with more time, money, and social connections can navigate the system, pay for private assessments, and advocate effectively for their children. Families with fewer resources often cannot overcome the barriers, even if the school is technically "inclusive." As a result, the promise of inclusion ends up serving only a select few, reproducing the very inequalities it was meant to fix. The researchers found that in Indonesia, children from poorer households are far less likely to attend preschool, and children with disabilities face even steeper odds. Without a strong public system to bridge the gaps, inclusion becomes a privilege for those who can afford it, rather than a right for all.

The paper concludes that we need to change how we measure and build inclusive education. Instead of just counting how many children are enrolled, we need to look at the quality of their experience and the strength of the support system around them. We need to track whether children are actually participating in activities and whether they are receiving the specialized help they need. The authors suggest that governments should tie the label of "inclusive" to real resources, ensuring that schools have trained staff, accessible materials, and funding before they are declared ready. They also argue that we need to build bridges between different levels of government and between education and health services, so that no child falls through the cracks.

Ultimately, this research offers a clear path forward for policymakers and educators. It suggests that true inclusion is not a single act of opening a door, but a continuous process of building a system that can support every child. It requires moving beyond the idea that a school is inclusive just because a child is sitting in a chair. True inclusion happens when the entire service system around the child is strong enough to turn a legal promise into a daily reality of belonging, learning, and growth. The work of the researchers highlights that while individual kindness and effort are important, they are not a substitute for a well-designed, well-funded system. To ensure that every child, regardless of their disability or family background, can thrive in their early years, we must focus on building the capacity of the system itself, rather than relying on the goodwill of a few.