By Amy Carlson Gustafson
When Deeqaifrah “Deeqa” Hussein was first told her eldest son, 15, was on the autism spectrum, she was in denial.
“It didn’t matter that I was getting my master’s degree; it didn’t matter that I had been a general educator before,” said Hussein, who at first refused to accept the diagnosis. “I was just a vulnerable mom.”
In 2015, Hussein earned her MA in special education from St. Thomas, along with licenses in both autism spectrum disorders and emotional behavioral disorders. She earned a doctorate in educational leadership while working in a demanding position in the Minneapolis Public Schools as the executive director of the special education department. Hussein’s dissertation focused on Somali Parents’ Experiences in Autism and Special Education.
But, like many journeys, Hussein’s path was not a straight line. More like a twisty, steep climb. Sometimes she could not even see where she was stepping, but she kept pushing through. Why? Because her love for her children has inspired her to learn how to navigate through the world of autism and help others do the same.
Along with her eldest son, another of Hussein’s boys – one of her triplets – has been diagnosed with autism. She still remembers what it felt like the first time an interpreter used incorrect terms while translating information about her eldest son to Hussein.
“I was lucky I was an educator and knew the special education terminology,” said Hussein, who has a bachelor’s degree in biology and was a general education teacher before switching to special education.
“Just because someone speaks English does not mean they know special education terminology. I saw a need and started advocating. I started knocking on every door – I would tell the special education director [in schools], but no one would listen to me. If your interpreters cannot tell the difference between emotional behavior disorders versus autism versus anxiety, there is no reason for them to be interpreting. There were not enough people being trained who knew the terminology.”
After discovering firsthand, the critical need for credentialed special educators – especially in her Somali community – Hussein knew she needed to do something. With the largest population of Somalis outside of Somalia, Minnesota is lacking when it comes to Somali educators in the public school system. Hussein was determined to change that, and she did.
“I wanted to become the first Somali mother in Minnesota to have an autism license,” she said. “It empowered me. It gave me a validated voice in the community. They saw that I do not have only one child with autism, I have two boys – who are medically and educationally diagnosed. It is a struggle. Raising my kids should have been my full-time job, but I did not give myself that option. Representation mattered to me. I wanted families to know they can get help from a trusted source.
Being An Advocate
Hussein, who was part of Somali Parents Autism Network, said her only choice was dedicating herself to helping her children – their journey is a big part of her journey. She wants to pass on the knowledge she has acquired to others who need guidance.
“If you don’t advocate for your child, there is no voice,” she said. “Somali parents who have kids with autism are very vulnerable. They are fighting linguistic and cultural barriers. They might not understand the potential of their kids. I need to make a role model out of my son. I want to show the potential he has. I want him to be an engineer; he loves technology.”
Among Hussein’s many goals are to be an effective leader in the community and to support Somali parents, especially those who might balk at special education services because they do not understand them.
“There are barriers and fears that need to be addressed,” Hussein said. “If a parent is saying ‘no’ to special education services, it is not negligence to me. In our community, it is stigma and shame that is associated with special education. Some families decline services to protect their children from shame and stigma. I was protecting my kid even though I had a general education license, and I was saying, ‘Don’t label him with autism.’ Through educating myself, I spoke, advocated, and understood. If you see a parent turning away, do not close the door on them because they have already done that for themselves. Give them a second, third, fourth chance.”
“When I attend my own child’s Individualized Education Programming (IEP) meeting, there are no tools enough to navigate the burden of low expectations, lack of representation, and adequate supportive voice at the table.”
Solving the Special Education Teacher Shortage
The University of St. Thomas’ School of Education is on the forefront of trying to help fill the special education teacher shortage through multiple program offerings. Work and earn your degree at the same time through one of the university’s residency programs in St. Paul and Minneapolis. Already working in a school? Consider the fully online Work and Learn program.
