My Passport Shouldn’t End After High School Graduation: IEP to 504, The Next Chapter’s Missing Link

Hello! I'm Katrina, and you've found the Living with Disabilities advocacy website.

Our primary goal is to foster a deeper understanding of the disabled community within society. We work to achieve this by striving for greater acknowledgment of the wide variety of disabilities and conditions that exist.

Here at Living with Disabilities, we are dedicated to educating, advocating, and raising awareness about disability-related topics. Through meaningful conversations and shared experiences, we aim to promote understanding, inclusion, and recognition of the abilities of people with disabilities.

Join me as we explore important topics, share knowledge, and work together toward a more inclusive society.

My Experience With an IEP

I remember being on an IEP from elementary school through high school.

My mom and dad were present at my IEP meetings, and I was there too. Most of the time, though, I listened rather than talked.

I remember being told that I had a different level of learning ability than other students my age. However, that does not mean I don't understand things. When something is unclear to me, I ask questions so I can better understand what is being explained. 

An IEP is a written educational plan that can include present levels of performance, measurable annual goals, specialized instruction, related services, supplementary aids and services, program modifications, supports, and appropriate accommodations based on the student's educational needs.

So, did I have problems with my IEP?

I think about a pen.

When you have a pen and begin writing, there is action happening. But what happens when the ink runs dry? The pen is still there, and the paper is still there, but something is stopping the action from continuing.

That is how I see a barrier.

Paper and a pen cannot move by themselves. Someone has to apply the force that allows the pen to move across the paper.

I experienced one of those barriers during my second year in a regular education classroom with regular education students.

A teacher aide stopped me from going to the bathroom.

The bathroom wasn't part of my IEP, but this experience showed me how someone else's actions could become a barrier during my school day.

I went to my regular education teacher and asked permission to use the bathroom. My teacher gave me permission.

While I was in the bathroom, the teacher aide called out, “Katrina, are you okay in there?”

I replied, "Yes, I'll meet you in the classroom.”

When I returned to the classroom, the aide leaned over and whispered, “Don't you ever do that again.”

I remember thinking, "Bathroom breaks are not an assignment." When your body gives you that signal, you need to be able to use the bathroom. Faculty and staff have bodily needs too.

After school, I wrote to my homeroom teacher about what had happened. A meeting was held with the teacher aide, my homeroom teacher, and me.

I said, “I don't want her in my classes.”

I believe students have a right to speak up about how they feel and what they need.

The outcome wasn't exactly what I wanted. I was given a schedule for when I was allowed to use the bathroom.

That experience stayed with me because it showed me that sometimes the barrier isn't the student. Sometimes the barrier is what happens around the student.

My IEP was not the barrier.

The barrier was what happened when someone else's actions got in the way of my ability to participate in my education.

Despite those barriers, I achieved my goals and graduated high school the following year.

But my educational journey didn't end there.

Beyond the Labels: My Journey to College

It took many years for me to get accepted into college.

I want to go back to that statement about having the “learning capacity of an eight-year-old,” because what happened next might stun some people.

I remember sitting at the kitchen counter working on a math problem. It reminds me of my old food blog, Living Better Cafe, which came before Living with Disabilities. On that blog, I enjoyed thinking outside the box—taking original recipes and turning them into something new.

I made things like apple pie with lasagna noodles and vegetarian-style corn dog bites.

Just thinking about it makes my stomach grumble.

But back to the math problem.

I was having trouble figuring it out, so I opened the kitchen cabinet and pulled out a measuring cup, thinking it might somehow help me solve the problem.

My younger brother asked me what I was having trouble with.

I told him it was a math problem.

He showed me how to solve the problem using algebra, a type of math I knew about but had not been taught at that level. He showed me one algebra problem, and it helped me understand how to approach it.

Later, when I took a college assessment test, I came across math equations I wasn't familiar with.

After the test, I immediately received my score.

I scored high in math and low in English.

I was mind-boggled.

How could someone who had been described as having the learning capacity of an eight-year-old rank high in math and low in English?

I've shared that experience with friends because even now, it still makes me think.

Then I started my first semester of college and took an English class.

That's when another dried-up-ink moment happened.

My DSPS counselor explained that some professors might not allow students to use their accommodations and that there wasn't much that could be done if that happened. She told me, “That is just how some professors are.”

I experienced what felt like exactly that.

My approved accommodations included double time on tests, a note-taker, and front-row seating.

For one of my English tests, students with accommodations were supposed to take the test through DSPS. My accommodation provided extra time at the DSPS testing center.

So I followed my accommodation and went to DSPS to take the test.

The next day, my professor asked, “Where were you? You should have been in class taking the test.”

I felt like I was being sent in circles for following the accommodation I had been given.

Then there was another moment I will never forget.

When the professor was returning papers, she passed everyone's assignments back, including mine. For one paper, she placed it on the floor and looked at me as if to ask, “Are you going to pick it up?”

I looked at her.

Then I looked at the paper.

Then I looked back at her.

I held that stare until she continued passing out the papers.

Eventually, I picked it up—not because I believed she was right, but because I knew the college guideline: don't argue with the professor.

And just because a student doesn't argue with a professor doesn't mean the professor is right.

I told my mother and my counselor what had happened.

The professor later called me into the hallway. I told her that I had followed what she asked me to do.

When she wanted me in class, I was there.

When she wanted me at the testing center, I was there.

“So, what more do you want from me?” I asked.

I also asked about my grades.

The professor responded, “Oh, see you next semester.”

I was told that this wasn't something that happened only to me, but that other students with disabilities had experienced it too.

My counselor told me the professor had a history of problems involving students with disabilities.

She advised me to schedule a meeting with the professor. If the behavior didn't change, I could take the matter to the dean.

The professor was reported to DSPS, and a meeting took place.

Something was done about it.

I passed that first English class with a C, and I never had that professor again.

The accommodation existed on paper.

The problem was being able to use it in practice.

My second English class brought another experience.

Students with disabilities were supposed to receive their accommodations, but it felt like we were all on a timer.

The secretary kept walking past, saying, “Only a few more minutes.”

I remember one student looking up at her.

As the secretary walked by one last time and said that time was up, my handwriting quickly changed and my anxiety kicked in.

After everyone else left, I asked the secretary for a few more minutes because I had arrived late.

She told me no. She had to follow the professor's guidelines, and I could reach out to the professor.

So I did.

I asked the professor for more time.

The answer remained that it would be unfair to the other students if one student received more time. I was also told that she had just finished grading papers.

But not every student arrives through the door at exactly the same time.

That matters when time is being measured.

I failed that class.

I was allowed to retake it.

The second time around, I went from an F to an A+.

That experience made me think about what happens when the problem isn't whether a student can learn, but whether the student has a fair opportunity to demonstrate what they know.

I had gone through the dried-up ink again.

But I kept going.

When the Barrier Followed Me

From 2015 to 2016, I went back and forth to the Cosumnes River College Financial Aid Office.

I was trying to apply for Federal Student Aid. I was told I needed to provide documents showing things such as my citizenship, that I was a student at the school, my academic progress, and proof that I had completed high school.

At first, I was told I could receive assistance.

Then, after I brought in the documents, the situation changed.

“You don't have a diploma. You have a letter of completion.”

I was told that my letter of completion did not qualify as a diploma and that it did not carry a letter grade.

Because my letter of completion was not being accepted as a diploma for the financial assistance I was seeking, I was told that I would need to retake general education classes.

Once I completed those classes and earned enough credits, I could move forward toward receiving the documentation I was being told I needed.

Without a diploma, I continued to face obstacle after obstacle.

I want to be careful here because this is where my personal experience and federal financial-aid rules can become two different things. Federal financial-aid eligibility has requirements involving a high school diploma or recognized equivalent, along with certain alternative pathways that have depended on the student's circumstances and the applicable rules at the time. Cosumnes River College's historical 2015–16 catalog also described an Ability to Benefit pathway for certain students without a high school diploma or equivalent.

What I am describing here is what I was told and experienced when I was trying to get financial assistance. I am not saying that federal law specifically required me to retake general education classes because I had a letter of completion.

I was trying to find a way around it.

Then, in 2018, I transferred to another college within the same district, thinking that maybe the problem would stop there.

But it didn't.

I was still dealing with the same district.

The barrier had followed me.

When Education Had to Wait

I had to take a break between semesters because summer classes were too fast-paced for me.

Once the summer classes had ended, the pandemic began in 2020, and I couldn't return to school. I was dealing with my own physical health issues.

During that time, I also began dealing with depression and a lack of motivation. I want to be clear that I was not suicidal. I was struggling with motivation.

Then I caught COVID and was placed in quarantine for a couple of weeks.

I haven't gone back to school since 2018.

But that doesn't mean my desire to learn disappeared.

In 2024, I took a mental health course through the Be There Foundation and received my certificate to become an active listener.

Taking that step because of my own mental health experiences helped me realize that I wanted to focus more on mental health. I decided that I wanted to become a mental health counselor for children and young adults with disabilities.

My educational circumstances, however, still remain a barrier.

I know that returning to school could mean facing the same financial-aid problem all over again because my letter of completion was not accepted as a diploma when I was seeking financial assistance.

I would not put myself through that same frustration again until there is a way for me to get the financial help I need.

The Missing Pieces

This brings me to the question of an IEP and Section 504.

When I met with my DSPS counselor, she explained that my IEP would not continue into college. She explained that college disability services work differently and that Section 504 would be part of the framework for providing disability-related support.

That distinction matters.

An IEP is part of the special-education system under IDEA and can include individualized goals, specially designed instruction, related services, supplementary aids and services, program modifications, and other supports based on a student's educational needs.

Section 504 is a federal civil-rights law that protects qualified students with disabilities from discrimination. In postsecondary education, it requires covered institutions to provide appropriate academic adjustments and auxiliary aids and services when necessary to ensure equal educational opportunity.

College is also different from high school in another important way. Students generally have more responsibility for identifying their disability-related needs and requesting academic adjustments. A high school IEP or Section 504 plan may help identify services that have worked before, but the U.S. Department of Education explains that it is generally not sufficient by itself as documentation for postsecondary accommodations.

That is part of the missing link I am talking about.

Even though I have gone through the dried-up ink on both paths, I honestly feel there is more thought put into an IEP plan.

That makes learning a whole lot easier.

Easier doesn't mean a cheat sheet out of education.

It means knowing the student's access needs and finding the right teacher or teachers who understand the student.

It's not different from piecing together a jigsaw puzzle.

On the other hand, the 504 Plan is like taking a different jigsaw puzzle and trying to piece it together, only to realize that multiple pieces are missing.

How can an incomplete puzzle become beautiful?

You can't take a different puzzle piece and use it to replace those missing pieces.

The missing pieces are the missing links when it comes to education.

My Letter of Completion Should Open a Door

A person with a disability who receives a special certificate or a letter of completion should not be looked down on because their educational path looks different from someone else's.

Education does not come in only one form.

There are different degrees and certificates, and each one can open different doors.

A letter of completion represents an accomplishment, too.

If a letter of completion is not considered equivalent to a traditional diploma for federal financial-aid purposes, then I believe there should be another pathway for students who have completed their education through a special education program and received a letter of completion.

There should be a way for students like me to continue their education without having to choose between giving up on their goals and putting themselves through the same financial and educational barriers all over again.

My education shouldn't have to stop simply because my educational path looked different.

My letter of completion should have been a bridge to my next chapter—not another barrier standing in front of it.

My passport shouldn't end after high school graduation.

It should open the door to the next chapter.

Sources & Resources

U.S. Department of Education — Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA): Individualized Education Program
Information about the purpose and required components of an IEP. IDEA — Definition of an IEP

U.S. Department of Education — IDEA: Transition Services
Information about transition planning within an IEP, including postsecondary education, training, employment, and independent-living goals. IDEA — Transition Services

U.S. Department of Education — Students with Disabilities Preparing for Postsecondary Education
Information about the differences between high school and college disability services, academic adjustments, student responsibilities, and documentation. Students with Disabilities Preparing for Postsecondary Education

U.S. Department of Education — Auxiliary Aids and Services for Postsecondary Students with Disabilities
Information about Section 504 protections and postsecondary schools' responsibilities to provide appropriate auxiliary aids and services. Auxiliary Aids and Services for Postsecondary Students with Disabilities

Cosumnes River College — Financial Aid
Current information about federal student-aid eligibility, including high-school diploma or recognized-equivalent requirements and Ability-to-Benefit alternatives. Cosumnes River College — Financial Aid

Cosumnes River College — Historical 2015–16 Catalog
Historical information relevant to the financial-aid period discussed in this article, including the Ability-to-Benefit pathway.