When the federal government announced its new Thriving Kids program in August, the headlines focused on the NDIS. The minister promised this $2 billion initiative would “secure the future” of the scheme.
But the program will not be delivered through the NDIS. From 2027, children under nine with mild to moderate autism (in itself a concept contested by people with lived experience and advocacy groups) or developmental delays will no longer enter the scheme. Instead, they will be supported through schools, early childhood centres, Medicare, and community services.
On paper this makes some sense. Best practice in early intervention says children should be supported where they live, learn and play. But this policy was announced without warning to states or schools. When premiers raised concerns about costs, the Commonwealth threatened to withhold hospital funding unless they agreed.
This is not just a disability or health policy story. It is an education story. Because the responsibility for Thriving Kids will land squarely on the shoulders of teachers and early childhood educators, and they need the resources and time to partner with families, and specialists to make this work.
Schools are already at breaking point
Our recent national surveys for Children and Young People with Disability Australia (CYDA) show how fragile equity already is in Australian schools.
- 60% of parents reported their child with disability had been bullied at school – a 10% increase since 2022.
- More than half said their child had been excluded from excursions or camps.
- Almost one in three reported restrictive practices such as restraint or seclusion.
The words of parents and students are sobering. One parent told us:
“Several teachers were clearly antagonistic to my son and didn’t believe in ADHD […] Essentially gave the impression they thought we were just pandering to him and he was ‘playing’ us.”
And from a young person:
“Most of my peers don’t have basic and correct knowledge about hidden disabilities…They see me as weird, so they refuse me to join for the group work.”
Children and their families also told us that most teachers want to help, but they lacked training and systemic support. The result is that many children with disability are excluded, stigmatised and harmed in places that are meant to keep them safe.
Now imagine schools becoming the place where they receive the primary or even only support for their disability- a place where many feel scared and excluded.
Mental health is on the line
Children with disability are already at much higher risk of anxiety, depression and distress. The ABS reports that Australians with disability are nearly twice as likely to experience high or very high psychological distress as their peers.
Families in our surveys directly linked bullying and exclusion to mental health crises, school refusal and disengagement from learning. These harms are not caused by disability itself. They are the product of exclusionary environments and under-resourced systems.
If Thriving Kids pushes children into schools and early childhood centres without significant new investment, the likely outcome is not thriving but worsening mental health.
Prevention
States such as Victoria are trying to build prevention-based wellbeing strategies. Its Wellbeing in Victoria strategy, released this year, positions inclusion, connection and belonging as protective factors against poor mental health. It names racism, ableism and exclusion as risks that harm wellbeing.
This is exactly the kind of upstream thinking we need. But prevention only works if it is backed with training, funding and planning.
Thriving Kids risks turning prevention into rhetoric while shifting the real costs onto schools and services that are already struggling.
This is part of a bigger pattern
Education researchers have been warning that schools are being asked to carry too many responsibilities that sit outside their control. Teacher shortages, rising student distress, and high levels of exclusion are symptoms of a system under strain.
As Martin Mills recently argued on this blog, schools are often left to deal with crises that are not of their own making – from housing insecurity to gender-based violence. Thriving Kids fits this pattern. It is a policy announced in the name of reform, but it pushes responsibility downward without adequate consultation or resourcing-with states, with families, with schools or with teachers..
What should be done differently
If Thriving Kids is to succeed – and if the NDIS is to be made sustainable – responsibility must be matched with resources. That means:
- Co-design with schools, early childhood educators, families and disability advocates.
- Funding that supports inclusion – training for teachers, accessible infrastructure, and staffing to meet need.
- Accountability for equity outcomes – not just access numbers or budget savings.
Without these, Thriving Kids may protect the NDIS’s balance sheet but leave children and families worse off.
Final word
We need to focus on prevention and inclusion. The voices of families and young people remind us it is better to stop a child from being pushed out of school than to struggle to bring them back in, once excluded. Schools and early childhood centres can be powerful places of protection and belonging. But they are already stretched, and too many children with disability are missing out.
Thriving Kids may promise reform. But unless it comes with planning, resources and genuine collaboration, it will not help children thrive – it will simply add to the burden of systems already at breaking point.
Catherine Smith is a senior lecturer in education in the Faculty of Education at the University of Melbourne with specialisation in technology, wellbeing, equity, policy and community development.
