She owes a private school $27,000. Her daughter never attended.

The single mother stood alone before the judge, trying to convince him she shouldn’t have to pay for an education her child never received.

Money was tight for Bianca Johnson, who was balancing a full-time job as an after-school care director with a full load of college classes in pursuit of a teaching career, and she had been counting on financial aid when she signed a contract to enroll her daughter at Sandy Spring Friends School. The private Quaker school, on a leafy campus in suburban Maryland, seemed like a perfect fit for her daughter, Teagan, a bubbly preschooler who was already starting to sound out words.

But when no aid became available by last August, Johnson reluctantly chose to keep her daughter in a YMCA program covered by a voucher. She was disappointed but thought the educational opportunity was all her family would lose.

Then came the bill.

Sandy Spring Friends told her she owed $21,302.53 in tuition and fees, citing the agreement she’d signed. When she said she couldn’t pay, the school sued, tacking on 18 percent interest.

Which was how the 37-year-old mom of one ended up in a Montgomery County courthouse on a Wednesday in April, missing a day of work and classes to make an argument she’d carefully rehearsed at home. Sandy Spring Friends was accusing her of failing to pay for her child’s education, Johnson told the judge, “but there was never an education or benefit conferred to my child.” She pointed out that she had never paid the deposit the school said was required to confirm enrollment, emphasizing that she could never have afforded tuition without help.

With her, she carried a printout showing her bank account balance on the day of her court appearance: negative $140.

“I tried,” she responded quietly.

In the Washington region, private school enrollment rates are among the highest in the nation, with a long list of highly ranked — and highly sought-after — schools. But behind the polished images of those institutions is a side not often seen: the lawsuits. Some schools have pursued high-stakes legal battles in search of lost tuition dollars, with cases at times leading to garnished wages and life-altering debt. Many are fairly straightforward cases of a family not paying after their child attended classes. But others are against parents who withdrew their children or never sent them for reasons that include bullying and out-of-state moves. In some cases, court records show, schools have gone after families who were granted financial assistance for attendance. In others, they have targeted parents who had not joined their ex-spouses in signing an enrollment contract.

In a search of court databases in D.C. and its Maryland and Virginia suburbs, the Washington Post found private schools have filed at least 140 cases in the past decade seeking more than $1.6 million in debt.

Enrollment contracts generally lock in between May and July, according to copies for multiple area schools that were included in court documents, and if families don’t cancel in time, they’re usually on the hook for an entire year’s worth of tuition. Some contracts state that they are binding regardless of the circumstances and regardless of whether the school finds a replacement student. That means families have spent recent months signing these contracts for the upcoming school year — a decision made fraught for some as the Trump administration has moved to shrink the federal workforce, the backbone of the local economy.

On an online forum for D.C. parents, one worried poster asked whether schools might be “slightly more flexible” with federal employees, saying the family had budgeted based on both parents working. Others responded that they had gone to administrators with the same question and came away expecting to pay the full amount. Multiple posts described bracing for an economic recession in the area while also, as one person put it, “trying to give our kids the best education we can with what we have.”

“If families leave, it’s not like you can just spread the costs among the remaining students,” she said. “So it puts both the school and, I think, other families in a predicament.”

Court records show that some well-known institutions, including Landon School and Washington International School, have pursued multiple claims. Sandy Spring Friends School, which survived a near closure this spring when alumni raised millions of dollars over several days, has filed at least 11 such suits in Maryland courts. The school did not respond to questions from the Post. Mary Ellen Flynn, the attorney who represented the school, said most of the lawsuits involve parents failing to pay tuition after their children have attended classes. But in Johnson’s case, she said, Sandy Spring Friends wasn’t given enough notice.

“The parent had sufficient time and notice to cancel the contract,” she said, “but instead, this parent decided to just not have their child attend the school and didn’t give any prior notice.”

During the April hearing, Flynn laid out a simple argument: Johnson had signed a contract, and it was binding. The judge agreed, saying it “does not appear to be a defense that the child did not go there.” Then he moved on to the math. The total Johnson owed, with interest and attorney fees, according to court documents: $26,999.

After leaving court that day, she sat in her car for a while. Then she drove home and cried.

It was her goal, she said, “to get to a point in my life where I could be financially stable, be a good mom.”

For a long time, Johnson felt like she was on her way. She was getting closer to her goal of becoming an elementary school teacher, with a student teaching position lined up for her last year at Bowie State University. She had a car and an apartment, where her daughter had her own room with a closet full of princess dresses. She was raising a smart and spirited little girl, who broke into the splits in her preschool hallway, struggled to pick just one book at the Scholastic book fair, and dreamed of growing up to be both a doctor and a firefighter.

Teagan had always been precocious, and when she started acting out at preschool last year, Johnson wondered if she might need someplace more challenging, with more structure and one-on-one attention. The parents of a student who attended the child care program she directs suggested Sandy Spring Friends, which on its website describes a mission of nurturing each child’s unique strengths — what Quakers believe to be the “Light within.”

Initially, Johnson dismissed the idea: How would she afford private school tuition? But when the couple mentioned that even they received financial aid to send their child there, she decided to apply.

There was a meeting with the head of the school, an interview with Teagan and a request for records from the program she was attending. Then, in April 2024, came the news that she had been accepted. Thrilled, Johnson signed the contract the school emailed her without reading it closely. She assumed it was like the paperwork she dealt with on a regular basis at work and at the Y, which she said hold parents to a month’s worth of tuition at most after they give notice that they plan to withdraw.

“The contracts provide for the ability for a parent to unenroll their child, but the parents need to honor the deadlines set forth in the contracts,” said Flynn, the attorney. “And if they don’t honor the deadlines or pay the tuition as set forth in the contracts, then the law provides the ability for the school to recover their losses as per the contracts.”

Alexandria’s Bishop Ireton High School, which has filed 11 suits over the past 10 years, appears to be unusual in holding parents to two months of tuition at most after a student is withdrawn. Contracts for Sandy Spring Friends, Landon and Washington International schools contain near-identical passages declaring that when a student withdraws, “it is difficult, if not impossible, to find a suitable replacement without altering the student environment which the School carefully constructs to be dynamic and engaging.” The River School, in D.C., says that tuition payment is due regardless of whether a replacement student is found and is not transferrable to another student’s account. Washington International School subjects late payments to a 24 percent yearly interest rate.

Racquel Yerbury, a spokeswoman for Washington International School, noted that litigation against parents over tuition issues is “rare for us,” representing less than a tenth of 1 percent of contracts over the past 10 years.

“Washington International School works diligently and compassionately with families to resolve financial issues,” she said in an email. “We also make every effort to provide financial aid to families in need, most recently $5.2 million dollars in 2024-2025. As a last resort only and in fairness to all of our families, we may pursue legal action to uphold binding contracts.”

Declining further comment, a Landon School spokesperson said in an email to the Post: “Out of respect for our families, we do not discuss the details of our enrollment contract.”

Johnson learned only after adding her electronic signature to the Sandy Spring Friends contract that the school didn’t offer financial aid for preschool. A confirmation email said that “enrollment is not considered complete until you pay the deposit,” and she said she didn’t understand that she had a June 1 deadline to pull out. She spent the summer applying for vouchers, ultimately getting one from the Montgomery County Working Parents Assistance Program. But it didn’t cover private schools, so she signed Teagan up for another year at the YMCA.

In late August, the Sandy Springs comptroller sent Johnson an email: “As you know, the contract you signed is a binding legal document. However, we have yet to receive any payments.” Johnson wrote back less than an hour later, saying she could not afford the school. There was a back-and-forth — the comptroller said the head of school had to approve any withdrawals; Johnson responded that she hoped the school would “see it fit to withdraw our inquiry into this school.”

“If I could afford the tuition,” she added, “I would surely send Teagan there, therefore I certainly cannot afford to be held responsible for the full year and she not attend.”

The interim head of school responded the first week of September with a decision. Teagan could withdraw from the school. But because of the contract, her mother would remain liable for tuition. At the end of the email, before the headmaster’s name, was the sign-off “In Light.”

When her boss told her a lawyer had called looking for her, Johnson was shocked that the issue had escalated to the legal system. Even months later, she said, “I honestly can’t believe it.”

The scores of civil suits against local families have been filed by religious institutions, small alternative programs and elite preparatory schools, with many cases ending in a default judgment against the parents. Dollar amounts have ranged from about $700 to $74,000, and most schools add interest and attorney’s fees if the case is decided in their favor.

Some local law firms count multiple private schools as clients. The one that represented Sandy Spring Friends, Andalman & Flynn, where Flynn was a principal, has also sued parents on behalf of at least four other local schools. On its website, the firm, which Flynn said shut its doors in May because she wanted to focus on being a trial lawyer, listed private schools as one of the industries it served, alongside banks and credit unions, utility companies, and health care. It made this pitch to schools: “Educating young minds should be your top priority, not chasing after past due tuition.”

It also said the firm understands “the delicate legal and public relations nature of debt collection in the private school environment” and “gets your receivables flowing while keeping your school’s elite reputation intact.” Flynn, who no longer represents private schools after closing the firm, said handling overdue accounts and contract litigation once made up a quarter of her practice. She said she always sought to resolve debts without going to court and filed in less than 20 percent of accounts she received from schools.

Court documents reviewed by the Post show that one school dismissed a kindergartner a week into the academic year over what it described as “extreme incidents,” saying his mother had not disclosed his behavioral issues. Then it sued her for the year of tuition. Another filed a lawsuit against parents who chose not to send their child back to school after alleged bullying that they said had “destroyed” him. The parents made their decision before classes started but after the contract became binding.

Some cases show the lengths schools were willing to go to collect payment from families, even those who had been part of their institutions for years. Mark Beliveau’s son attended Landon School, an all-boys institution in Bethesda, from third through eighth grade. Then, in 2016, the sports-focused IMG Academy in Florida recruited him for baseball; he wanted to go for freshman year and then return to Landon as a sophomore. But an injury soon threw his plans into question.

Before the court battle, his son’s being a “Landon guy” was a point of pride for the family. The annual signing of enrollment paperwork was a mark of faith in the people who work here, Beliveau said: “I trust the brick buildings. I trust the people in the bow ties.”

“It’s not a business deal where you’re looking across the table saying, ‘Wait a minute. I don’t agree with that. Take that out. Let’s negotiate,’” Beliveau said. “You don’t do that. You trust the place.”

What followed was an ugly two-year court fight. Landon sued in August 2019, then Beliveau appealed.

Landon obtained a judge’s permission to garnish Beliveau’s and his wife’s wages and put a lien on their bank account before the two sides reached a settlement in 2021. Their son never returned to Landon: The school, before suing, told his parents that, “given the toxicity,” he was no longer welcome, Beliveau said in an affidavit. Years later, the ordeal still stings.

“I stupidly thought, ‘Well, they know us. We’ve been here. We’re Landon people. They wouldn’t give me a wink and a nod and take it away,’” he said.

Incensed, she hired a lawyer who sought her dismissal from the case. The school’s attorneys fought against it, saying that although she didn’t sign the contract, she “clearly wanted her son to benefit from the educational and social environment” because she paid a past-due balance and told a school employee it was “our great hope” that he could finish high school there. Sandy Springs Friends also argued that any agreement between the two ex-spouses over who would pay was irrelevant because the school was not “involved in the personal lives of, and agreements between, the parents of its students.”

Nehemiah said she was ultimately dismissed from the case, but not before she spent $10,000 on attorney’s fees. She said she did not fault the school for pursuing the tuition money it was owed, but she thought the law firm’s tactics were overly aggressive in coming after her.

“It was very stressful,” she said. “And, you know, financially, I really couldn’t afford it.”

She paused.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can feel the stress rising up again.”

“Sometimes I see these papers and I get, like, so angry,” she said, taking them off the fridge.

Beliveau, who helped fundraise for Landon over the years, said he had admired the way private schools sought out students of different socioeconomic backgrounds. But in suing families like Johnson’s or those who were unable to pay their portion of tuition, he argued, “the business of the school is in conflict with the mission of the school.”

Days before Johnson appeared at the courthouse to plead her case, Sandy Spring Friends School announced it was shutting down because of what its board described as an “untenable financial situation.” A week later, after alumni swiftly raised more than $15 million in pledged donations, those plans changed. It seemed heartless, Johnson said, that a place capable of attracting millions of dollars within days would hound her for money she didn’t have — especially since she figured it had been able to replace her daughter with another student.

Flynn, the Sandy Spring Friends attorney, said the spot was left vacant because of the short notice.

But even when replacement students have been found, courts have ruled that departing families must still pay. In a 2006 case, a Maryland district court sided with parents in ruling that they should not have to pay tuition, even though they withdrew their child after the deadline, because the school did not try to find a replacement student. The circuit court agreed, finding that the school had a duty to mitigate its damages and noting that it ultimately enrolled more students than its budget called for. The Court of Appeals of Maryland reversed the judgment and wrote that the school did not have a duty to mitigate its damages.

For her part, Johnson was still trying to figure out what to do months after being hit with the judgment. She said she would try appealing, if only to buy time. More than half of her biweekly salary of $2,156.89 went toward rent, which she paid using a service that split it into two payments. After her car payment and other expenses, there wasn’t much left over, and she worried about how she’d make ends meet when her pay started being garnished.

For the moment, she was carrying on with her jam-packed schedule as a working mom and student. That Wednesday night, she helped Teagan sound out words written in careful script on index cards taped around the apartment. Johnson had grown impatient waiting for her preschool to teach reading, so she had decided to start herself. Her rule was that Teagan had to read five words before bed.

She remembered the day she toured Sandy Spring Friends School and how hopeful she had been.

“The campus was beautiful,” she said. “I wish my daughter could have seen it.”