Chad Trivette

Every spring, school foundations do something deeply meaningful. They stand beside students at award nights, announce scholarship winners, recognize achievement, and help young people take one more step toward college, trade school, training, or work.

These moments matter. A scholarship is more than a check. It is a public statement that a community sees a student, believes in that student, and is willing to invest in what comes next.

But school foundations should ask a question that is not asked often enough:

Are students with disabilities being included in that investment?

Across the United States, 7.5 million students ages 3 to 21 were served under the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act during the 2022 to 2023 school year. That represented about 15 percent of public school enrollment. In other words, students with disabilities are not a small side population in American schools. They are part of the center of school life. They are classmates, athletes, artists, volunteers, workers, leaders, and future community members. 

Yet when scholarship season arrives, many school foundations may not know whether their awards are reaching these students.

That does not mean school foundations are excluding students on purpose. Most are created by people who care deeply about students. Many are volunteer led. Many depend on donors, local businesses, alumni, and families who want to help. But good intentions do not automatically create fair access.

Scholarships often reward visible forms of achievement. Grade point average. Class rank. Advanced coursework. Student government. Varsity sports. Traditional leadership roles. Long lists of extracurricular activities.

Those are valuable accomplishments. They deserve recognition. But they are not the only signs of potential.

A student with a disability may have shown extraordinary persistence just getting through the school day. Another may have balanced therapy, medical appointments, anxiety, mobility barriers, communication challenges, or learning differences while still showing up, improving, helping others, and preparing for life after graduation. Another may be headed not to a four year college, but to a certificate program, community college, apprenticeship, supported employment pathway, or technical training program.

If a foundation only defines success in the narrowest academic terms, it may miss some of the students who have had to work the hardest.

That is why every school foundation should review its scholarship process through an inclusion lens.

The goal is not to lower standards. The goal is to broaden the definition of promise.

A strong school foundation should ask: Do we offer scholarships for students with disabilities? Do our applications make room for different kinds of achievement? Do special education teachers, counselors, transition coordinators, and families know about these opportunities? Are students with disabilities encouraged to apply? Are scholarship committees trained to recognize perseverance, growth, service, work ethic, and future readiness?

These questions matter because scholarships help shape what a school community values. If every scholarship celebrates only the same type of student, the message is clear even if no one says it out loud. But if a foundation recognizes many forms of talent and determination, the message changes. It tells students that there is more than one path to dignity, contribution, and success.

A school foundation could begin with a simple step: create at least one scholarship specifically for a graduating student with a disability. That scholarship could support college, community college, trade school, certification, transportation, adaptive technology, job training, tools, or other transition related expenses.

But foundations should go further than one award. They should look across the entire scholarship portfolio and ask whether students with disabilities can realistically compete. A student who has worked after school, cared for a family member, participated in life skills programming, completed job training, or made major personal progress should not be invisible because their resume looks different from the traditional high achieving student profile.

This is also where school counselors, special education staff, and foundation boards should work together.

Counselors often know which students are applying for scholarships. Special education teachers often know which students have overcome barriers that may never appear on a transcript. Transition coordinators often know which students need small but meaningful financial help to move into the next stage of life. When these groups work together, foundations can make better decisions.

Local businesses should also be part of the solution. Chambers of commerce, banks, hospitals, manufacturers, unions, trade groups, and civic organizations often fund scholarships. They should be invited to sponsor awards for students with disabilities who are pursuing workforce training, career credentials, entrepreneurship, public service, caregiving, technology, skilled trades, or community college.

This would not be charity. It would be talent development.

Many communities say they need workers. They say they need young people to stay local. They say they need to build a stronger workforce. Students with disabilities are part of that future workforce. A scholarship that helps a student pay for training, transportation, books, tools, testing fees, or assistive technology can be a practical investment in local economic life.

There is also a dignity issue here.

Students with disabilities should not only be discussed in terms of services, accommodations, compliance, and support plans. They should also be discussed in terms of dreams, leadership, skill, contribution, and future impact. A scholarship can help change that conversation.

A foundation could even publish an annual equity review of its scholarships. Not private student information. Not anything that violates confidentiality. But broad questions: How many scholarships were offered? What kinds of pathways were supported? Did awards reach students pursuing college, career training, apprenticeships, and community based opportunities? Were students with disabilities aware of the opportunities? Were application materials accessible?

That kind of review would make a foundation stronger. It would show donors that the foundation is serious about reaching all students. It would show families that the community values every kind of learner. It would show students with disabilities that their future matters too.

The best school foundations do more than reward the already recognized. They look for promise that might otherwise be missed.

They understand that a student’s story cannot always be measured by class rank. They understand that courage may look quiet. They understand that leadership may come from helping a peer, showing up every day, learning a job skill, advocating for oneself, or refusing to give up.

Every school foundation should ask this question before the next scholarship season:

Are we only honoring the students who are easiest to see, or are we also honoring the students whose strength has been hidden in plain sight?

If the answer is unclear, that is not a failure. It is an opportunity.

Because a school foundation should not just help students go somewhere after graduation.

It should help every student believe they are worth sending forward.