The Power of High Expectations for Students with Disabilities

It’s easy to spot when expectations are high in a classroom. You hear students being challenged. You see them reflecting, revising, and stretching themselves. There’s a belief in the air that growth is possible, from both teachers and students themselves.

But for students with disabilities, that belief isn’t always present. And often, it’s not because of the students—it’s because of us.

Whether intentional or not, educators sometimes lower expectations when working with students who receive special education services. It might come from a desire to protect or avoid frustration. It might be based on past experiences with other students who struggled. Regardless of the reason, the impact is the same: when we lower the bar, we limit what’s possible.

High expectations don’t mean we expect every student to master content in the same way or on the same timeline. What they do mean is that we believe, truly believe, that every student can grow. That belief shows up when we make decisions based on data and potential, rather than labels and assumptions.

This doesn’t mean ignoring real challenges. It means facing them with the understanding that scaffolds and support exist to help students access the same meaningful opportunities as their peers. Accommodations should be viewed as bridges that connect students to grade-level content, not as shortcuts that reduce rigor. When used well, supports don’t lower expectations, they give students the tools to meet them.

In practice, this might look like adjusting the process without changing the goal. A student might use voice-to-text software to write their ideas, or solve math problems with manipulatives instead of paper and pencil. The approach shifts, but the learning remains rich and purposeful.

Students pick up on our expectations. When they know we believe in them, they take more risks. They engage more fully, ask deeper questions, and begin to see themselves as capable learners. But when they sense that we’ve already decided what they can’t do, they withdraw. Sometimes, they stop trying at all—not because they can’t, but because they believe it no longer matters.

This shows up most clearly in IEP meetings and daily classroom instruction. Are we setting goals that stretch the student’s potential? Are we embedding support systems that promote growth instead of comfort? Are we assuming competence and designing tasks accordingly?

These small decisions add up. Over time, they define whether a student sees school as a place of opportunity or limitation.

Fortunately, we can always reset the narrative. Raising expectations is not about demanding perfection, it’s about offering belief, dignity, and challenge. It tells students, “You have what it takes, and I’ll support you in getting there.”

Instead of asking, “Is this too much for them?” we can start asking, “What can I do to help them access this successfully?”

In the end, high expectations aren’t about the grades on a report card. They’re about honoring students’ potential, seeing them as capable contributors, and giving them every opportunity to rise. When we expect more, students often rise to meet it and in doing so, they start to expect more from themselves, too.