Did our ADHD son make the right college choice? Fingers crossed.

Over the summer, our upstairs hallway became filled with all the items needed to live in a college dorm. Despite this daily reminder, I chose to ignore the reality that our ADHD son would begin his freshman year of college over 800 miles away from home.

During his junior year of high school, our son thought about going into the Coast Guard after graduation. He took the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery (ASVAB), the test required for entry into the military. He scored above the 97th percentile on all measures, with his school counselor raving to me about his outstanding performance. As we researched the Coast Guard, my husband and I felt confident this was the place where our son could thrive. We even pointed out to him that he wouldn’t have to sit through general education classes (boring for his ADHD brain) and it would be hands-on (appealing to his ADHD brain).

However, he decided he wanted to go to college, even though we told him he didn’t have to choose that path. I think, although he would never admit it, our son felt like he would be a failure if he didn’t attend college, especially since he wanted to follow in his older brother’s footsteps.

The small, private college he chose to attend specializes in aerospace and aeronautical sciences, a passion of his since he was a toddler. To my absolute delight, he was proactive over the summer in choosing his classes and his dorm assignment. He even scheduled a meeting with the Office of Disabilities on campus (every college campus has one) to discuss accommodations due to his ADHD, like extra time on tests.

Finally, the day had come to pack the stack of items in the upstairs hallway into the car and start the two-day drive to college. As his mom, I had worked hard to get him here. And although I was extremely proud of him, I still felt a sense of trepidation. I had advocated for him all through middle school and high school, constantly communicating with his teachers to ensure his success. I wondered if we’d made the right choice for him. Would his disorganized, time-oblivious ADHD brain be able to manage his college classes? Would he be able to make friends with his quirky behaviors? Could he share a living space despite his messiness?

Fortunately, our son had communicated with a group of incoming and current students during his senior year of high school and over the summer. This was comforting to me, knowing that he wouldn’t feel all alone. After moving him into the dorm, we rarely saw him over the few days that we were there. He didn’t want to meet us for lunch or dinner. He was eating with other students, going to the beach, or hanging out at the student union. At this small aerospace university, my husband and I jokingly counted the number of space-themed t-shirts the students were wearing — we knew that our son had truly found his people.

After his first few days of classes, he reported back to us that he liked it at college—he had even managed to figure out the laundry machines in the dorm. He liked that his English professor included all her assignments for the semester in an online calendar, which would help his ADHD brain to plan out his time. He managed to get his binder put together and even color-coded it to make it easier to keep track of assignments. He’s also been using his white board calendar, although I think only to write down when the model rocket club he joined meets. But it’s a start.

He’s settling in, but it will still be a year of challenges and adjustments — for him and for me. During the first week of classes, he called me in a panic to say that one of his professors wouldn’t let the students take notes on their laptops. My son has notoriously bad handwriting and would never be able to keep up in class taking handwritten notes. For years he’d been allowed to use his laptop for taking notes in school per the accommodations in his 504 plan. However, the Office of Disabilities counselor had assured our son that he wouldn’t need this accommodation in college since students routinely use their laptops in class.

My first thought was that I should call the Office of Disabilities to resolve the situation. But then I realized I had to let my son advocate for himself. Instead, I walked him through the steps to take and followed up with him at the end of the week. I was elated when his text message popped up to tell me that his accommodations had been taken care of.

Maybe he’ll be OK, or maybe college is the new shiny object that his ADHD brain will pay attention to for the short term. I hope it’s the former and not the latter, especially since he seems to be right where he belongs.