As the fall semester begins across Missouri’s public universities, thousands of students are returning to class under the weight of a new federal budget that threatens to destabilize the very programs they rely on to stay enrolled.
On July 4th, a day long pitched as a commemoration of American freedom and liberty, President Donald Trump signed the One Big Beautiful Bill Act (OBBBA) into public law, ripping any sense of freedom away from the most vulnerable populations in the country.
This punitive bill sparked a wave of controversy for its deep cuts to public aid, such as the healthcare programs Medicare and Medicaid, and its massive $75 billion funding increase for ICE. Among the most consequential provisions are $350 billion in cuts to education spending. Programs aiding low-income students and students with disabilities have been cut, and student loan repayment options are now pricier and more restrictive.
Though framed as a cost-cutting measure, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act will deepen the inequities already faced by Black students in higher education, especially those who are low-income, first-generation, or disabled. While some programs like TRiO remain funded, the bill’s broader attack on public aid, healthcare, and education support systems threatens to unravel the fragile safety nets these students rely on.
In Missouri, where nearly 70,000 students depend on federal grants and assistance, the ripple effects are already starting to take shape.
On June 26th, the University of Missouri Board of Curators held a meeting to adjust its budget based on the proposed cuts and the uncertainty surrounding future federal funding. The University of Missouri System (known as the UM System) is composed of the University of Missouri-Columbia (MU), St. Louis (UMSL), Kansas City (UMKC), and Missouri University of Science & Technology (Missouri S&T). According to meeting documents, MU, UMKC, and Missouri S&T are facing a potential decrease in funding, including Pell Grants, while UMSL may see slight increases.
Pell Grants, which aid 60% of Black college students in furthering their education, are also under fire in the OBBBA. Just over 80% of Black students receive some form of federal financial aid, and a reduction in Pell Grant funding could limit their ability to access or remain in college. For incoming Black freshmen attending UM System schools in the 2026-27 academic year, securing adequate loans and grants will become not just harder, but the deciding factor between attending college or being shut out of higher education entirely.
Within the University of Missouri System–Pell Grants and TRiO Programs
The potential decrease in federal funding will reduce aid, including Pell Grants, for nearly 67,000 Missourians. However, in the UM System, there are no immediate or pressing changes to Pell Grant funding in the projected budget for fiscal year 2026.
Christopher Ave, director of Media Relations and Public Affairs at MU, wrote in an email that it is too early to estimate how much money would be impacted by the OBBBA. “At this point, we are not aware of any proposed changes to Pell Grant funding,” Ave said. He clarified that they don’t anticipate any changes to the projected budget for the fiscal year 2026.
As for federal programs geared towards disadvantaged students, the problem is more complex.
An estimated 21,000 Missouri students for the 2026-27 school year who are eligible for TRiO programs could be affected. TRiO provides one-on-one tutoring, financial coaching, and FAFSA application support for students who are first-generation, low-income, and/or living with disabilities—groups that also depend heavily on public aid programs currently facing cuts, like Medicaid and Pell Grants. Although TRiO funding is not directly targeted by the OBBBA, the program and the students who rely on it are not immune to the bill’s ripple effects.
Still, for MU students, not all hope is lost — at least in the short term.
“[T]he US Department of Education awarded the University of Missouri TRiO Student Support Services program with a five-year grant which will allow us to continue providing these services…to undergraduate students,” program director Stephanie Raymond wrote in an email. “As a result, students receiving these important services should not experience any changes through the 2025-26 academic year.”
Raymond clarified that although MU received a five-year grant, Congress appropriates funds annually, meaning that the program’s future still depends on political will. She said that the university will continue to “evaluate ongoing support.”
Officials for the UM System did not respond to a request for comment on how Black students might be affected by the federal cuts. Nonetheless, given existing disparities in income and access to financial aid, Black students are likely to bear the brunt of these policy shifts.
What Lies Ahead for Black Students in Missouri?
While TRiO and other support programs may remain funded in the short term, larger policy threats loom for disadvantaged groups under the OBBBA.
When peeling back the layers, federal efforts to roll back education access won’t affect all students equally. They will land hardest on those already pushed to the margins. For Black students in Missouri who are also first-generation, low-income, and/or living with a disability, these layered identities compound to create a steep and often unforgiving path to higher education.
Over half of the country’s university student population is the first in their families to pursue college, which comes with its own set of challenges. These first-generation students, a third of whom are students of color (59% of Black students), are more likely to come from a low-income family and have to rely on scholarships to afford their education, on top of the added challenges of navigating the college process without intergenerational guidance.
Low-income students account for 43.1% of all university students, with Black students making up almost 60% of this demographic. Two main drivers of this socioeconomic disparity are the widening racial wealth gap and rising tuition costs. The racial wealth gap, where white households make exponentially more money than Black and Hispanic households, has woven itself into American society without a second thought. Post-Great Recession, the median net worth for white families is 13 times higher than Black families. Black and white children are likely to follow the wealth position of their parents, continuing a never-ending cycle of poverty for some and generational wealth for others.
And since the Great Recession, college tuition has increased rapidly, with a nearly 37% increase from 2010 to 2023 for public universities. The average cost of college for in-state students in Missouri is almost $21,000 a year, a price tag many low-income Black Missourians cannot afford. Over a quarter of Black Missourians live in poverty, and when basic necessities are out of reach, college without substantial grants and scholarships becomes nearly impossible.
Financial barriers grow even steeper for students with disabilities. About 20% of undergraduate students live with a disability. Out of that, almost a fifth are Black students. However, this stat doesn’t tell the whole story, as Black students are more hesitant to disclose their disability due to stigma and are already dealing with the challenges of racism. And Black students who do jump over that hurdle and receive accommodations often find the system unresponsive to the ways race and disability intersect. This mismatch leads to inadequate support and an uphill battle for success. Cuts to social programs like Medicaid only add to the burden, stripping away healthcare and stability that students with disabilities often depend on outside the classroom.
Trump intends to eliminate the Department of Education entirely, which could dismantle the enforcement of federal protections outlined in the Americans with Disabilities Act, the Rehabilitation Act (which prohibits “any program or activity” from denying access to federal aid based on disability) and the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act. That means without direct defunding, the climate of instability creates fear and uncertainty for students who already face disproportionate risk.
The takeaway is clear: for Black students navigating poverty, disability, and institutional neglect, college isn’t becoming more accessible. It’s being pulled further out of reach.
Reality Check
For Black students, race, income, and disability don’t exist in silos but collide. And when federal policy undermines each of those identities at once, the road to higher education becomes not just difficult, but deliberately blocked.
The overture of affirmative action in 2023 jump-started the decline of Black and Hispanic college students at top universities, and more students have even decided not to disclose their race on their applications. This bill will continue to shut out students of color who fall in any of the above categories and bar them from having a chance to succeed before they apply and pay the application fee.
This bill is far from beautiful.
This is a calculated assault on the most disadvantaged communities in the country, especially Black students fighting to access a system they were never meant to thrive in. This isn’t about fiscal responsibility. It’s about how party politics, greed, racism, and systemic oppression work against young Black people and put their futures in jeopardy every day. Black people and our ancestors have built this country from the ground up, including the very White House, where policymakers push these divisive and destructive bills.
How long before all of this leaves a big, ugly scar?
