I never imagined I would be labeled a Dream Destroyer. Yet, there I stood in the kitchen as my son wailed that I was “crushing his dream.”
“Crushing your dream?” I exclaimed, taken aback.
At just 8 years old, his aspiration was to play football in the NFL. I reminded him of the slim chances of making it to the pros, to which he replied that this was exactly why he needed to start practicing right away.
He fell to the floor in tears, lamenting about his ruined ambitions. I told him that his dad and I would discuss it. Though I didn’t give him a firm answer, my internal monologue was screaming, “Absolutely NOT!”
But deep down? My heart was conflicted.
This wasn’t my first tough parenting call, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. However, it felt particularly challenging. I understood both sides of the play-or-not-play-football debate, and I lacked a clear instinct on what the right choice was—a gut feeling I often rely on for other parenting decisions. Experts may offer their guidance, but personal intuition and practicality always play a role. I’ve made choices that contradicted expert opinions in areas such as breastfeeding and screen time, but I didn’t have a solid intuition about letting my son play youth football or any other risky activities. If I banned football, would I also have to prohibit skateboarding or rock climbing?
To be honest, I was at a loss.
I recognize the safety risks associated with football. I’ve read the alarming reports on concussions, the struggles of retired players, and the warnings from well-known athletes. My partner and I take these concerns seriously.
Still, I had to weigh the risks of denying my son the opportunity to participate. I didn’t want to be a Dream Destroyer—what parent does? Yet, I also didn’t want to instill a fear of taking risks or pursuing dreams in him. Perhaps it stems from my own cautious nature, but I want my children to embrace challenges—whether it’s biking without hands or taking a job abroad—rather than shy away from them due to fear. I hope to teach them to understand risks and make informed choices.
My parenting style could be described as controlled risk-taking. For instance, when my son climbed high into the branches of our backyard tree, I paused only to snap a picture before encouraging him to be careful. While I dislike the categorization of parenting styles, I tend to lean more towards the free-range approach rather than hovering over him constantly.
That said, as parents, we also set boundaries around activities we deem unsafe, no matter how responsible our kids are. We don’t allow them to run in busy streets, play with fire, or ride bikes without helmets (though sometimes we do but feel a tinge of guilt).
Therefore, I didn’t want to hastily say “yes” or “no” before thoughtfully discussing the risks with my son. I believed it was essential that he understood how we reached our decision, possibly even more than the decision itself.
Ultimately, we decided to let him play, with the understanding that we would revisit the subject as time went on. However, just a week before the season commenced, my son took a football to the stomach and concluded that perhaps football wasn’t for him after all.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
He was certain. The next day, he quit football and signed up for baseball instead.
And for the moment, I could erase Dream Destroyer from my parenting résumé. But just last week, he mentioned wanting to be a football player when he grows up.
So maybe I’ll have to pencil in Dream Destroyer after all.