Education: AESH alert over their working conditions with disabled children

Forgotten in today’s mobilization, AESHs continued their mission with students with disabilities despite increasingly precarious working conditions. Some of them agreed to testify in order to discuss the difficulties encountered on a daily basis.

At the Chalet des Roses school in Nice, AESHs (Companions for Students with Disabilities, Editor’s note) were present today with disabled children, despite the national strike that affected the Education Ministry and other sectors. They did not leave their posts, not due to lack of grievances, but because they refuse to leave students to fend for themselves. Yet their testimonies tell of a deep frustration that echoes that expressed throughout the country in recent hours: the school asks them for the impossible, without giving them the means to cope.

Louise* accompanies children with severe autism, sometimes non-verbal, whose crises can be sudden and violent. She describes days punctuated by screams, scratches, blows, bites, pulled hair and objects thrown across the classroom: “We get hit all day long and we have to carry children in full crisis in our arms,” reminding us that work accidents are multiplying in this profession.

To this physical burden is added a heavy hygiene workload: changing diapers, providing showers several times a day, without any training in hygiene, ergonomics or first aid. For Louise, some children clearly fall within the scope of an IME (Medical-Educational Institute, Editor’s note), but due to lack of places, they remain in a regular school lacking appropriate resources.

Support through “permanent makeshift solutions”

More generally, the discourse reflects an organization “through permanent makeshift solutions.” When two AESHs must accompany a child who cannot be left alone, the absence of one of them is enough to disrupt the entire day. The school companions present must cover all the hours of that child, leaving several other students with milder disabilities completely deprived of the support they need. Even rare moments of relief disappear: the sudden abolition of midday break has resulted for some in a salary cut of up to 400 euros per month. “Our salary can change at any time,” they sum up, reminding that the sudden reduction from 32 hours to 24 hours has further weakened already often below 1,000 euros incomes.

Sophie*, an AESH for four years, explains that she now performs a role similar to that of specialized educators, but without the corresponding training. “We are not trained at all in severe autism,” she insists. The elimination of collaboration with Sessad (Special Education and Home Care Service, Editor’s note) has worsened the situation: no more advice from specialized educators, no more multidisciplinary support, no more guidance to understand behaviors and prevent crises. Making do has become the norm: wipes, toys, adapted materials—everything is purchased with the meager salaries of AESHs left behind. The facilities themselves are sometimes dangerous. A recurring problem in school buildings that are too often dilapidated and patched up hastily.

Elia‑Rose* insists on a concordant but equally central point: safety. Without training, without external support, disability companions must nonetheless guarantee the safety of children and adults. “What we’re asking for is work where we’re guaranteed the safety of the child and the adult,” she laments. This AESH also denounces the structural precariousness of the profession, such as when signing amendments, sometimes initialed under threat of a wage freeze.

A saturated system that displaces the limits of inclusion

These local situations are part of a national context. In 2024, 24,000 students were enrolled due to lack of places in the social-medical sector. Some children wait six to seven years for a place in an IME. In 2026, 14,000 students were deprived of ULIS. The budget for the ULIS device (Localized Unit for School Inclusion, Editor’s note) at Chalet des Roses is 150 euros per year, sometimes even zero, forcing teachers to draw from their own class budget to buy materials. AESHs note that school facilities are becoming waiting rooms, where inclusion relies more on the goodwill of teams than on real resources.

The testimonies converge: the profession is profoundly human, but exhaustion is real. Louise, Sophie, Elia‑Rose and their colleagues at Chalet des Roses perform an essential role every day, without training, without recognition, without resources. They did not protest today, but their reality joins that expressed in national debates: inclusion relies on them, but the system no longer allows them to cope. The question raised goes beyond wage claims. It questions the very model of school inclusion. Can we continue to welcome children with very heavy needs in schools that lack neither the human resources, nor the material resources, nor the necessary training? Louise, Sophie, Elia‑Rose and their colleagues are not asking for the impossible. They simply ask that inclusion no longer rest on fragile shoulders so as to ensure decent follow-up for children who need it.

*First names have been changed to maintain anonymity