As you may have noticed Trout magazine is now featuring pieces written by our readers who not only love the art of fishing but the art of writing as well, in the Voices from the River section. We have been asking for completed pieces or well thought out outlines of extraordinary experiences and places to be submitted for consideration in one of the upcoming issues. While we can not guarantee that your piece will be accepted and used it will be read through and given due consideration.
Send your submissions to Steve Kinsella (skinsella@tu.org) or Samantha Carmichael (scarmichael@tu.org)
By Anthony Larson December 26, 2010 - 8:26 pm
Greetings: I recently graduated from Viterbo University with an associates degree in Psychology. My terminal degree is going to be Eco Psychology with addiction studies minor. I also guide part time but trying to enter the world as an outdoor writer. Being a parent of a child with autsim has made me want to write about our outdoor experiences as well as develop programs for people with autism and special needs so they too can enjoy the benefit of being outdoors. Attached is one of my stories speaking out against autsim.
When my son was first diagnosed with autism 3 years ago, I was both grateful and sad.
I was grateful because I knew he would get the programs and treatments he deserved. I was sad because for some reason, I felt that my little fishing buddy wasn’t going to be anymore.
Like any father, I held fantasies of fishing, camping and spending countless moments teaching and mentoring my son in the ways of the outdoors. Somehow the diagnoses of autism was going to shatter these dreams.
Shortly after that, I took Eli on our first outing. Oh boy, what a mess that was. He screamed and cried against being outdoors or in the woods. He would throw his cup, toys, and sticks in the stream I frequently fish. Frustrated, I packed up our gear and headed home.
During out second outing, I discovered something. The person throwing the fit was me. I realized that the reason Eli was crying and stomping so hard was because I didn’t give take the time to listen to him. He wanted to look at things and be a part of the outdoors. I was so wrapped up on getting Eli to fish, pushing a fish pole in his hands; a fish pole he could care less about, left him no choice but to retaliate. It appeared my agenda outweighed his reality.
Shortly into our third outing, I took 1 fish pole for me. Some worms for a set line, and some hooks for replacements. I casted and set the line out while I observed Eli’s transition into the outdoors. The second outing we were out, Eli stashed a toy in a rock pile. I noticed he kept wanting to head towards the rock pile and pulled his toy out. Eventually, I caught a fish and though he had no interest in the fish, he liked the thought of climbing over rocks and sticks to get to the fish.
As Eli grew older, our fishing adventures and his vocabulary get more advanced we’ve been ice fishing together, camping, and countless hikes. His autism holds back his words, but I watch his face when he climbs over a fallen tree because it’s there, or when we go ice fishing, he chips a hole or says “ice house time” pointing to the stack of gear that sits in the garage.
Today, I took Eli to the Minnesota State Ice fishing show, and watched him greet my friends in the fishing industry as “fish pole friend” and pointing to the many shacks on display as “ice house” and “fish pole time” when it was time to go.
Though there are may challenges that come with being a parent of an autistic child, the rewards of speaking out against autism is the greatest.