Don’t Deny Your Access: A Lesson for Students, Families, and Educators
- Ivy Wilcher
- Feb 1
- 3 min read

At Next Scholar Up (NSU), we spend a lot of time talking about access—access to learning, opportunity, mentorship, and pathways that help students see themselves as capable and prepared for what’s next. But recently, I was reminded that access isn’t only something students need. It’s something adults—educators, parents, and mentors—sometimes forget to claim for themselves.
In education, access is often framed around systems: curriculum, accommodations, technology, or programs. Those things matter deeply. Yet there is another layer of access that is just as critical but less visible—access to voice, confidence, belonging, and agency.
Too often, students and adults alike deny their own access without realizing it.
A moment that made me pause
Not long ago, I found myself in a professional space where I was qualified, prepared, and invited—yet still carefully monitoring how much of myself I brought into the room. I noticed subtle shifts in energy, the kinds of looks and pauses that many educators, especially women, are conditioned to read. Without realizing it, I began to shrink: softening my language, holding back insights, and questioning whether it was the right moment to speak.
Nothing outward suggested that I didn’t belong there. In fact, my experience and credentials said otherwise. Yet internally, I was negotiating access—deciding how much space I was “allowed” to take.
That moment stayed with me because it mirrored what I see so often in the students and families we serve.
What “denying access” looks like
Denying access doesn’t usually look like giving up. More often, it shows up quietly:
A student who knows the answer but doesn’t raise their hand
A parent who hesitates to ask questions because they don’t want to seem difficult
An educator who stays silent in decision-making spaces despite their expertise
A mentor who waits to be invited instead of stepping forward
These moments are rarely about ability. They are about perception—Do I belong here? Am I allowed to take up space? Will my voice matter?
In her influential work on educational practice and equity, Dr. Bettina L. Love highlights that many students in under-served communities are taught to survive in school rather than to thrive and fully participate in their learning and leadership. Love argues that educational practices should be designed so that students—and by extension the adults who serve them—experience empowerment and agency, not just compliance or survival within the status quo.
At NSU, we see this dynamic across age groups. Many of our scholars are capable, bright, and curious, yet unsure whether they are “allowed” to be confident, ambitious, or vocal. That uncertainty doesn’t come from nowhere. It is often shaped by environments that unintentionally reward silence, compliance, or self-doubt.
Why access matters beyond academics
When students deny themselves access, the impact extends far beyond grades. It affects how they advocate for themselves, how they approach challenges, and how they imagine their future. The same is true for adults supporting them.
Educators and families who deny their own access may avoid asking for clarity, delay leadership or advocacy, or carry emotional weight that leads to burnout. Over time, this quiet self-denial limits not only individual growth but also the collective progress of schools and communities.
Mentorship as a bridge to access
This is where mentorship matters.
Mentorship helps students learn that they don’t need permission to be curious, perfection to be prepared, or confidence before taking action. Confidence is often built through experience, not before it.
Through tutoring, coaching, and intentional conversations, NSU mentors help scholars practice using their voice, trusting their skills, and stepping into spaces that once felt intimidating. We focus on academic growth, yes—but also on identity, self-belief, and readiness.
Because access unused is access denied.
A reflection for all of us
Whether you are a student, parent, educator, or partner, this is a moment to pause and reflect:
Where have I earned access but hesitated to step in?
What space am I shrinking in that I’m qualified to occupy?
How might my growth impact others if I showed up fully?
Advocating for students will always be central to our work at Next Scholar Up. But sustainable change happens when we also model what it looks like to claim access, not just wait for it.
At NSU, we don’t just open doors—we help scholars and adults alike recognize when they already have the key




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