Martin’s school is a self-contained special-education setting for children with speech and language disorders, including autism. The teachers possess patience and experience in equal measure, the administration is supportive, and I feel fortunate that has been placed there since kindergarten.

Yesterday, when I arrived to pick Martin up for personal training, I ran into the mother of Brian, another boy in Martin’s class. I’ll call the mother Chrissy. This is the third year Brian and Martin have been in the same class, so I know Chrissy well enough. Chrissy was picking up Brian, and as usual, she had her younger son, Aaron, with her. Aaron attends a special-needs preschool in the City, and I know that the family has been looking for a kindergarten spot for him, so I asked how the process is going.

“Good,” Chrissy replied. “I think we are actually going to be able to get a spot for him here.”

“Here? That’s terrific,” I said. “Both boys in the same school—they’ll be able to see each other, act like brothers. You must be happy!”

“Yeah. I’m happy.”

Chrissy didn’t sound happy.

“Not a great thing?” I asked, tentatively.

“I mean—both my kids are going to be here.”

Ah, yes. Of course. Both her kids will be in the superior self-contained special-education setting for children with speech and language disorders, including autism.

Because both her kids have autism.

Because we are losing a generation of boys, and a lot of girls, no one is doing anything about the crisis.