How Graduate Education Loan Limits Will Hurt Students With Disabilities

New graduate loan caps ignore disability-related costs, and could force many to choose between graduate school, private debt, and meeting basic needs

article-cropped July 17, 2026 by Jenna Maree P. Wong
An illustration of a teacher standing with a student seated in a wheelchair in front of a desk and they ae talking

Beginning July 1, 2026, the elimination of the Graduate (Grad) PLUS loan program will make graduate school harder to afford for millions of students. Under the new federal borrowing limits, graduate students can borrow no more than $20,500 per year ($100,000 lifetime), while professional students, such as those in law and medicine, are capped at $50,000 annually ($200,000 lifetime). These limits fail to account for the higher costs associated with having a disability, the longer time many disabled students need to complete a degree, and the reality that many can’t work while enrolled. More years in school means more tuition and living expenses against a fixed borrowing limit. Once students reach that limit, private loans are the only option — even through they lack the income-driven repayment plans, deferment protections, and forgiveness programs that make federal loans manageable for borrowers with uncertain or limited earning capacity.

For students with disabilities,* who already face higher educational and living costs, the consequences may be especially dire.

“‪I have so many health-related expenses to pay for every month,” said Madison,** a future Ph.D. student with neurological disabilities whom I interviewed for my research on how disabled students financially navigate higher education. “I have my catheters, my medication, canes, wheelchairs, and maintenance on the chairs. There are all these expenses that cause me a little bit of anger. Nobody else has to deal with this.”

The cost of attending college is notably higher for disabled students, and many graduate students with disabilities enter graduate school already carrying student debt.

Callie, a disabled Ph.D. student in education, entered graduate school with $60,000 in undergraduate loans. As a first-generation student, she had no one to explain how financial aid works, while executive functioning challenges tied to her neurodivergence made long-term repayment planning especially difficult. At one point, she told me, she planned to repay one loan with another.

For many students with disabilities, borrowing is a necessity.

“I spend most of my time in my bed horizontal because being vertical hurts,” said Layla, an aspiring counselor living with chronic illness and physical disabilities. She will enter her master’s program with $15,500 in undergraduate debt and will likely need to take out additional loans, as working while she balances her health and her studies isn’t feasible.

What States Can Do

In the face of federal loan limits, states can help reduce reliance on private loans by strengthening supports for disabled students and ensuring they can access Social Security disability benefits. While disability benefits are federally funded, eligibility is determined by state Disability Determination Services (DSSs). This creates inconsistent outcomes across states.

Madison experienced this firsthand. While living in California, she qualified for disability benefits while working part time. After moving to Texas for college, the state’s DDS office concluded that she was capable of working full time and terminated her benefits.

Unlike many of her non-disabled peers, Madison can’t take on a second job or increase her hours to replace lost aid. As a student-parent with significant health needs, her disability limits her ability to work and increase her income. And even though she had access to benefits in California, they fell short: “The disability income is already low. It was not enough for us to live […] in California. I can’t imagine it’d be any better here [in Texas].”

Without benefits and without the ability to make up the difference by working more, Madison is heading to graduate school with no safety net and no fallback except debt.

Graduate students pursuing Ph.D.s face another challenge. Many receive university stipends that place them above federal disability income thresholds, even though those stipends often fall short of covering basic living expenses.

“My Ph.D. stipend doesn’t let me qualify for disability income because I’m above the income threshold,” explained Lina, a psychology Ph.D. student and wheelchair user.

According to a Nature poll, nearly half (46%) of respondents rely on a second source of income. For many disabled students, however, additional employment isn’t possible. Many occupy a liminal space — earning too much to qualify for support, but too little to meet their basic needs.

Disability income limits are set federally, but states can establish supplemental, need-based grants to help offset this “income cliff.” These grants should be administered directly by states, so disabled students don’t lose benefits because they go to graduate school in a different state.

What Colleges Can Do

Colleges can’t raise federal loan caps, but they can reduce students’ costs by providing accessible graduate housing and comprehensive health insurance.

Graduate housing often costs less than comparable off-campus housing while making campus navigation easier, explained Lina. She also praised her university for treating accessible housing as standard — not as a special accommodation that costs extra.

For Madison, comprehensive health insurance is non-negotiable, given her need for catheters, which, without coverage, cost roughly $5,000 per month. Even with insurance, she expects to pay thousands of dollars out of pocket. Thus, for her, a student health plan that doesn’t cover this expense isn’t financially feasible.

Layla’s experience shows that disability-related costs extend far beyond tuition. Because she attends a liberal arts college with a small on-campus health clinic that closes during the summer, she must venture off-campus for medical care, increasing transportation costs through rideshare services because she can’t safely drive during severe flare-ups. Her budget also includes multiple prescriptions, copays, lab work, and periodic echocardiograms, plus a buffer for unforeseen medical emergencies — such as a recent ambulance ride and an ER visit following a bee sting.

These disability-related expenses are unavoidable, yet current federal borrowing limits don’t account for them.

What Leaders and Policymakers Must Do

Without action, many disabled students will be forced to take on riskier private loans or forgo graduate education entirely.

Federal policymakers should:

  • Exempt documented disability-related costs from the new federal borrowing caps. The Higher Education Act already requires colleges to include disability-related expenses — such as special services, personal assistance, accessible transportation, adaptive equipment, and supplies that are reasonably incurred and not covered by another agency — in a student’s cost of attendance (COA). Disabled students should be able to borrow federal loans up to the cap plus these documented disability allowances.
  • Pass the RISE Act (H.R. 3939 / S. 2081) to remove the cost barrier of duplicate disability evaluations. Colleges often require costly evaluations for accommodations, even when students already have a valid IEP or 504 plan. The RISE Act would allow existing documentation to satisfy the proof-of-disability requirements, removing an unnecessary financial barrier.

State policymakers should:

  • Make disabled students eligible for state graduate aid or forgivable-loan programs, sized to address the federal shortfall. States should expand graduate grant or loan-repayment programs and target eligibility and award sizes that account for disability-related costs.

College leaders should:

  • Make the COA appeal process transparent and proactive. Many students are unaware that they can request disability COA adjustments. Institutions should clearly explain the adjustment process and coordinate financial aid and disability services to identify eligible students, rather than relying on students to self-advocate.
  • Provide comprehensive student health insurance and waive premiums for disabled students facing financial hardship. Student health plans should cover high-cost disability needs rather than shifting costs to Medicaid or onto students. Premiums should be fully subsidized or waived for students with documented disability-related financial hardship.

Students shouldn’t have to choose between earning an advanced degree and meeting their basic health needs. As Madison weighs whether graduate school is financially possible, she explains the dilemma simply, “I have to really take into consideration what is important to us. What can we cut out so we can pay for my disability?”

* Note: We use person-first (student with disability) and identity-first (disabled student) language interchangeably to recognize the diversity within the disabled community. Person-first language focuses on the individual, seeing the disorder, disease, condition, or disability as just one aspect of the person. Identity-first language confronts negative connotations by openly acknowledging the disability, which some individuals see as an integral part of their identity.

**Note: All the names in this blog are pseudonyms to protect participants’ identities, as required by our research protocol.

The author is an EdTrust P-12 Research and Data Analytics Intern