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February 1, 2026
5 min (est.)
Vol. 83
No. 5

It’s Time to Rip Off the Velcro! Rethinking Paraprofessional Support

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When a paraprofessional shadows one student all day, good intentions can backfire. A fluid support model delivers better outcomes.
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Student Engagement
Two blue, Velcro textured cutout figures, one larger and one smaller, stand side by side against a peach-colored background.
Credit: Paladjai / Adobe Stock
What if the support we’re giving a student is actually holding them back?
The morning bell rings, and Noah takes his seat in his 4th grade classroom. Just a step behind him, his paraprofessional, Mrs. Stacey, pulls up a chair. Throughout the day, wherever Noah goes, so does the paraprofessional: during math at the carpet, lining up for lunch, and even at recess.
The support is steady. When the teacher gives directions, Noah glances to his paraprofessional before acting. When classmates begin a group activity, he looks to the paraprofessional to tell him where to sit. Even routine ­decisions—like which materials to grab or how to start a problem—are ­quietly mediated by the adult at his side.
Over time, Noah has learned that he doesn’t need to stretch to figure out what comes next. Someone will always be there, attached like Velcro, to prompt him. I use the term “Velcro” to describe what researchers identify as a model where a paraprofessional becomes attached to a single student all day.
Velcro clings tightly—yet that kind of attachment comes with a cost.

The Velcro Problem

Noah’s scenario isn’t unusual. In U.S. schools, approximately one million paraprofessionals support students across various programs, with a substantial portion providing special education services (Bisht et al., 2021). While national data do not track one-to-one assignments, research in several districts has found that roughly one-quarter to two-fifths of paraprofessionals serve primarily in one-to-one roles (Suter & Giangreco, 2009).
The decision to assign a paraprofessional often depends as much on a school’s culture, staffing patterns, and comfort level as on a student’s actual learning profile (Giangreco, 2010, 2021; Giangreco & Suter, 2015; McDermott, Cruz, & Feng, 2024). What one school views as a need for constant support, another might address through teacher-planned scaffolds or peer strategies.
Assigning a paraprofessional to a student’s side comes from good intentions. Educators and parents alike want children to succeed, and if a student is struggling, the logical conclusion is that more help is the solution. If one teacher isn’t enough, then surely adding another adult—someone dedicated just to that child—will fill the gap and make inclusion possible.
As true as that may feel, research tells a different story.

IEPs are designed to serve student needs, not to prescribe staffing models.

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What the Research Shows

For more than two decades, research has documented the impact of this practice. While each classroom situation is unique, certain consequences emerge with striking consistency across different countries, states, and districts. These typically hold true regardless of the school, grade level, or student population.

1. Friendships stall before they start.

Students with one-to-one support tend to have fewer reciprocal social exchanges and reduced peer engagement because their peers are less likely to initiate interactions when an adult is present (Broer, Doyle, & Giangreco, 2005; Malmgren & Causton-Theoharis, 2006). In this case, proximity has a distancing effect. Recent research with autistic high school graduates confirms this: Participants reported that the constant presence of a one-to-one paraprofessional disrupted social interactions and contributed to feelings of stigma and separation from classmates (Zakai-Mashiach, 2024).

2. The teacher-student bond weakens.

Teachers often redirect through the paraprofessional: “Can you make sure he gets started?” (Giangreco, Broer, & Edelman, 2001). This positions the paraprofessional—not the teacher—as the primary point of interaction (Giangreco, 2010). Further findings reinforce this: Paraprofessionals report taking on instructional decision making (Mason et al., 2021), which further detracts from teacher-student bonding.

3. Students lose access to instruction from the certified teacher.

When teachers see a paraprofes­sional at a student’s desk, it unconsciously signals that coverage is in place. Research demonstrates that teachers provide less direct instruction and fewer interactions to students who have a paraprofessional seated next to them. Teachers assume the paraprofessional “has it covered,” and instructional responsibility subtly migrates from the teacher to the paraprofessional (Giangreco, 2010; Webster et al., 2010). Students with the most significant learning needs end up with less access to certified teaching than their peers (Giangreco, 2010; Webster et al., 2010). State policy analyses reveal that guidance documents rarely warn against this drift, contributing to its persistence (Mason et al., 2021; McDermott et al., 2024).

4. Independence is eroded.

Paraprofessionals want students to succeed and often help too quickly—supplying a word, finishing a problem, prompting before the student has had time to think. Frequent or immediate prompting from paraprofessionals can create prompt dependency, reducing opportunities for students to develop self-initiation skills (Giangreco et al., 2005). These patterns include paraprofessionals completing tasks for students, supplying answers, or anticipating needs too quickly. In interviews with researchers, autistic young adults described developing unnecessary dependence on their one-to-one paraprofessionals and feeling less prepared to function independently in academic and social situations (Zakai-Mashiach, 2024).
Together, these consequences paint a clear picture. What looks like the most supportive option can, in fact, undermine the very goals of inclusion.

“We Have to Follow the IEP”

A common defense of one-to-one paraprofessionals is often: “But the IEP requires it.” This sounds nonnegotiable. If the document says the student requires a full-time paraprofes­sional, then that’s the service provided.
But here’s the flaw: IEPs are designed to serve student needs, not to prescribe staffing models. An IEP should describe the supports and services necessary for the student to access learning, communicate effectively, and build independence. It should not cement a model that research shows can isolate a child.
IEPs requiring constant adult presence tie schools’ hands, locking them into a proximity-based model. Just as helicopter parenting outside of school can stifle a child’s independence, helicopter staffing inside school can do the same.
The solution is not to eliminate paraprofessionals but to write better IEPs—plans that prioritize access, dignity, and growth toward independence. Teams should question why a child needs an adult beside them all day and require evidence of improved learning. Even when rarely needed, supports should intentionally be faded over time as skills develop.
Schools can’t simply ignore or suspend an existing IEP. But they can revise current IEPs and write future IEPs that are responsive to paraprofessional research. With an understanding of this research, we can design much more effective and less intrusive support in practice.

A Fluid Support Model

If you’ve ever played or watched basketball, you know there are two primary types of defense.
In man-to-man defense, each defender shadows a single opponent wherever they go. In zone defense, defenders cover areas of the court and shift as needed, requiring awareness and flexibility.
The same two patterns show up in schools. One-to-one paraprofessional support is our man-to-man defense: one paraprofessional permanently assigned to one student, shadowing them through every lesson and every transition. It guarantees constant coverage, but it also produces the very harms already noted—social isolation, weakened teacher–student bonds, less teacher engagement, and growing dependence. Instead, we need the classroom equivalent of zone defense: a fluid support model.
In a fluid support model, paraprofes­sionals move fluidly throughout the classroom, not tethered to one student. They step in where needed—helping a group organize materials, quietly prompting a student to re-engage, or modeling a task for learners. Like zone defenders, they scan the room, shift to where they are needed, and anticipate what’s next. Support flows, rather than clings.
And sometimes, the fluid support model allows us to make an important switch. Instead of the paraprofessional being constantly at the side of the student with the greatest needs, the certified teacher can step in—delivering the specialized instruction, guiding the most complex learning, and building that essential bond. Meanwhile, the paraprofessional supports students who need help with organization, staying on task, or breaking down directions. This isn’t always the arrangement, but it ensures the teacher’s expertise is directed where it matters most. When this model is working, support is nearly invisible. From the outside, you cannot immediately tell which students have IEPs.

The question for leaders isn’t, 'Do we have enough paraprofessionals?' but rather, 'Are we using our human resources in ways that build student independence and teacher capacity?'

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How We Know We’re Successful

In a classroom using afluid support model, the paraprofessional is circulating, stepping in here, fading there, and assisting multiple learners. Coverage looks seamless to outside observers.
Better yet, students can’t tell which student (or students) the paraprofessional was assigned to support. The paraprofessional is simply another adult helping everyone. Peers approach them with questions. The teacher and paraprofessional move in sync, co-planning who focuses on which supports. The system feels coordinated, not disjointed.
In Noah’s original classroom, he glanced at his paraprofessional before acting, waited for prompts before starting, and turned to his “helper” instead of his teacher. With a fluid support model, his experience changes.
When the teacher gives directions, Noah looks directly at the teacher—where the expectation and connection now are. During group work, the paraprofessional helps another cluster of students stay on task. Noah listens more carefully, leans on peers for cues, and raises his hand when he needs help.
This shift is visible in daily moments: students turning to peers and teachers first, paraprofessionals moving confidently throughout the room, and teachers maintaining strong instructional relationships with every learner. Most importantly, independence grows—not because support disappeared, but because it flows with intention and fades strategically.
When these markers are in place, paraprofessional support becomes what it should be: not Velcroed to a single child, but fluid, flexible, and dignified—helping every student thrive as a full member of the class.

Making the Shift

Transforming how schools use paraprofessionals is ultimately a leadership responsibility. Principals, special education directors, and instructional coaches set the expectations for how adult support is deployed and monitored. Leadership teams can model the shift by ensuring paraprofessional roles are clearly defined, co-planning time is protected, and fading plans are built into IEPs from the start. The question for leaders is not simply, “Do we have enough paraprofes­sionals?” but rather, “Are we using our human resources in ways that build student independence and teacher ­capacity?” Here’s how to begin.

1. Start with the “why.”

Before changing schedules or assignments, bring grade-level or subject-area teams—including general and special educators, paraprofessionals, and leaders—together to examine the research. Share the four consequences described earlier. Ask teams to reflect: Are we seeing these patterns in our classrooms?

2. Audit current practice.

Spend time observing classrooms. Which students have adults stationed beside them? How often do teachers interact directly with those students? Who initiates peer interactions? Track data to establish a baseline and identify where Velcro has taken hold.

3. Reframe the paraprofessional’s role.

Paraprofessionals are often hired to support one student, but they are rarely adequately trained for the role. Provide professional learning to paraprofessionals and teachers together on:
  • Prompting strategies that build independence rather than dependence
  • How to fade support intentionally as students gain skills
  • Reading the room and responding to multiple students’ needs
  • Collaborative teaching strategies and how to work as a unified ­instructional team

4. Co-plan with precision.

Fluid support requires coordination. Teachers and paraprofessionals need weekly planning time. What are the learning targets? Which students might struggle where? Who will circulate during independent work? Who will facilitate small groups? Planned support flows; improvised support can revert to Velcro.

5. Transition thoughtfully.

For students with long-term one-to-one support, abruptly changing the model isn’t likely to work. Gradually increase physical distance. Start with the paraprofessional sitting one desk away, then across the table, then across the room for short periods. Celebrate small wins and build the student’s confidence in functioning without constant proximity.

6. Monitor and adjust.

Schedule check-ins among the special educator, classroom teacher, and paraprofessional every few weeks. Is the student engaging more with peers? Is the teacher interacting more directly with the student? Is independence growing? If not, troubleshoot. Fluid support improves with practice and reflection.

7. Communicate with families.

Parents often advocate strongly for one-to-one paraprofessionals, equating constant adult presence with safety or success. When proposing a fluid model, educators should anticipate resistance. Share classroom observations that show how support is still provided, but in ways that build independence. Emphasize this isn’t a reduction in services but a redesign ensuring their child receives more direct instruction from certified teachers. Encourage families to participate in planning and observe progress over time.
Velcro is loud when it separates, and changing service delivery models isn’t easy. It requires courage to question a model that feels safe and ask: “Safe for whom?” The Velcro model may feel secure to adults, but often means isolation, dependence, and diminished dignity for students.
True leadership means building classrooms where no one can identify “the student with the paraprofessional” because support is everywhere, for everyone. Paraprofessionals should be skilled partners, not permanent shadows. With a fluid support model, every student—regardless of their needs—has access to their teachers, their peers, and their own growing independence.
Copyright © 2026 Lee Ann Jung

Reflect & Discuss

  • Have you observed any of the four consequences of a Velcro model in your setting? What would need to change to shift from one-to-one assignments to fluid support?

  • Do your IEPs prescribe staffing models or describe the supports students need to access learning and build independence?

  • How would you explain fluid support to a parent who equates constant adult proximity with their child’s safety and success?

 

References

Bisht, B., LeClair, Z., Loeb, S., & Sun, M. (2021). Paraeducators: Growth, diversity and a dearth of professional supports (EdWorkingPaper: 21–490). Annenberg Institute at Brown University.

Broer, S. M., Doyle, M. B., & Giangreco, M. F. (2005). Perspectives of students with intellectual disabilities about their experiences with paraprofessional support. Exceptional Children, 71(4), 415–430.

Giangreco, M. F. (2010). One-to-one paraprofessionals for students with disabilities in inclusive classrooms: Is conventional wisdom wrong? Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities, 48(1), 1–13.

Giangreco, M. F., & Suter, J. C. (2015). Precarious or purposeful? Proactively building inclusive special education service delivery on solid ground. Inclusion, 3(3), 112–131.

Giangreco, M. F., Broer, S. M., & Edelman, S. W. (2001). Teacher engagement with students with disabilities: Differences between paraprofessional service delivery models. Journal of the Association for Persons with Severe Handicaps, 26(2), 75–86.

Giangreco, M. F., Yuan, S., McKenzie, B., Cameron, P., & Fialka, J. (2005). “Be careful what you wish for . . .”: Five reasons to be concerned about the assignment of individual paraprofessionals. Teaching Exceptional Children, 37(5), 28–34.

Malmgren, K. W., & Causton-Theoharis, J. N. (2006). Boy in the bubble: Effects of paraprofessional proximity and other pedagogical decisions on the interactions of a student with behavioral disorders. Journal of Research in Childhood Education, 20(4), 301–312.

Mason, R. A., Gunersel, A. B., Irvin, D. W., Wills, H. P., Gregori, E., An, Z. G., et al. (2021). From the frontlines: Perceptions of paraprofessionals’ roles and responsibilities. Teacher Education and Special Education, 44(2), 97–116.

McDermott, L., Cruz, R. A., & Feng, Z. (2024). A state-by-state document analysis of official guidance on paraprofessional allocation. The Journal of Special Education, 57(4), 195–204.

Suter, J. C., & Giangreco, M. F. (2009). Numbers that count: Exploring special education and paraprofessional service delivery in inclusion-oriented schools. The Journal of Special Education, 43(2), 81–93.

Webster, R., Blatchford, P., Bassett, P., Brown, P., Martin, C., & Russell, A. (2010). Double standards and first principles: Framing teaching assistant support for pupils with special educational needs. European Journal of Special Needs Education, 25(4), 319–336.

Zakai-Mashiach, M. (2024). Autistic students speak about their experience with their one-to-one teaching assistants in general high schools. International Journal of Inclusive Education, 29(2), 2308–2323.

Lee Ann Jung is clinical professor at San Diego State University, and an international consultant providing support to schools in the areas of universal design, inclusion, intervention, and mastery-based assessment and grading. She leads the International Inclusive Leadership Program, a professional learning and graduate program for educators, in partnership with San Diego State University. Having worked in the special education field since 1994, Jung has served in the roles of teacher, administrator, consultant, and professor and director of international school partnerships at the University of Kentucky. She has authored 6 books and more than 50 journal articles and book chapters on the topics of inclusion, assessment and grading, and educating students with disabilities.

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