The other day, The Man, The Boy and I were riding around as we are wont to do on the weekends, and we happened upon the local agency that employs young adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities once they’ve aged out of public school. The Man and I explained to The Boy what the young people with autism and other issues did inside the building. “They put together candy bouquets, do laundry, all sorts of stuff, and that’s their job,” I explained. “Isn’t that cool?” I asked.

A pause from the back seat, and then, “Can you be a band director there? Because that’s what I think I’d like to do.”

My heart just about broke while I was trying to find an answer. The Man responded that to be a band director you had to go to college, and in order to go to college you had to listen to your teachers and do all of your homework because that would be a lot of hard work. “I do all of my homework and listen to my teachers,” The Boy replied. “Ok,” we said and the subject naturally wandered in other directions as we drove on.

Could The Boy go to college, earn a degree, teach his own classes someday? Quite possibly. Don’t for a second think that I doubt my sons abilities.

What I doubt are the supports he would need to get there and our ability to afford those supports that are not in place. Realistically, colleges are not yet equipped for our kiddos (Hell, his middle school is not yet equipped…). And neither is the real world.

So how do I go about tempering my boy’s dreams, when it is the very last thing I want to do?