I want to share a particularly uplifting experience I had with my son this week. He had kind of been off sailing for the last two years after getting very frustrated with it the few times he tried to learn. This year, evidently it occurred to him that a boat is a cool date lure for the nature loving girls here in Bloomington, so he has warmed back up to the sport and asked to go to sail camp, a one week 9am-3pm school run by the club where we sail. Aside from my Oday, I share a sunfish with a friend. Before sail camp earlier this summer, my son really wouldn't sail it on his own, and he wouldn't sail much further than the edge of our club buoy field. If the wind got up a little bit, he wouldn't go out at all. And when I asked him how sail camp went, he didn't really say much about it, so I figured it went ok, but that he was still pretty green. Well, on Monday, with a breeze blowing at a steady 10-15mph, I watched from the shore in amazement at the transformation. He sailed solo a mile out to the middle of the lake and proceeded to put on a show, maneuvering circles around a bunch of other kids who were participating in this week's camp. He went quite a ways downwind, which made me worry that he'd be stuck down there, but then tacked and made way back upwind, close hauled, hanging out off the gunnel, cutting a nice line back to where he started. And then when it was time to return, he jibed and judged the wind and his approach perfectly, getting to a position where he could bring the boat back to shore under sail on one tack, gliding in with just enough momentum to kiss the waters edge without scratching up the hull.
I've shared before that my son is on the autism spectrum and at times it creates great difficulty for him. The report from sail camp was that some of the kids gave him a hard time and that he had trouble fitting in. This is pretty common for those who are "high functioning"; it's one of those things that as a parent one just accepts as a painful reality of autism and we are rarely surprised when we learn that other kids don't know how to accept him. "It is what it is", as they say, and we try to help him understand that as he grows older, he will figure things out and people will become more accepting. So, standing there on there on the dock when he told me he wanted to go out by himself, I had no idea how things would go. Had he sailed by himself at sail camp last month? What happens if he capsizes? Will he be able to handle an unexpected gust? Does he remember how to get out of irons? Suddenly realizing that this meant he would be out there alone while I would be on shore, I began to make plans for helping him out of whatever difficulties arose. This is what I always do because complex situations for a kid with autism can go south quickly and I needed to be ready to step in and help him. But then, watching him on the water, not really knowing whether it would be a good experience or whether things would go sideways and I'd have to go out and deal with a frustrated kid in the throes of an emotional meltdown, my worries turned to elation. He rigged the boat, launched and sailed it well on his own, and the sail camp instructors, who did me the favor of circling around him in the chase boat, reported back that he looked quite comfortable out there. And as he brought the boat back though the buoy field, passing the twenty kids who were on the sail camp boats, it seemed like something was very different, as if for this one afternoon, he wasn't the odd kid who the others steered clear of, but rather he was one of the handful of advanced teenagers who could be trusted to sail on their own. Our life together is a journey filled with my anxiety about his future and with his own frustration about not being like other kids. But on this afternoon, he was just like the others and for a brief few hours he got to feel what it's like to be admired by his peers. I've had dreams that he would love to sail and that it might be a skill set that could serve as a sort of therapy for him! Or that maybe it might be a vehicle for him to make friends (or get a date!). It's been touch and go at times, as I am sure it always is with kids, whether they have autism or not, but suddenly at 13 he's become quite a confident small boat sailor, making me a proud old salt.
I've shared before that my son is on the autism spectrum and at times it creates great difficulty for him. The report from sail camp was that some of the kids gave him a hard time and that he had trouble fitting in. This is pretty common for those who are "high functioning"; it's one of those things that as a parent one just accepts as a painful reality of autism and we are rarely surprised when we learn that other kids don't know how to accept him. "It is what it is", as they say, and we try to help him understand that as he grows older, he will figure things out and people will become more accepting. So, standing there on there on the dock when he told me he wanted to go out by himself, I had no idea how things would go. Had he sailed by himself at sail camp last month? What happens if he capsizes? Will he be able to handle an unexpected gust? Does he remember how to get out of irons? Suddenly realizing that this meant he would be out there alone while I would be on shore, I began to make plans for helping him out of whatever difficulties arose. This is what I always do because complex situations for a kid with autism can go south quickly and I needed to be ready to step in and help him. But then, watching him on the water, not really knowing whether it would be a good experience or whether things would go sideways and I'd have to go out and deal with a frustrated kid in the throes of an emotional meltdown, my worries turned to elation. He rigged the boat, launched and sailed it well on his own, and the sail camp instructors, who did me the favor of circling around him in the chase boat, reported back that he looked quite comfortable out there. And as he brought the boat back though the buoy field, passing the twenty kids who were on the sail camp boats, it seemed like something was very different, as if for this one afternoon, he wasn't the odd kid who the others steered clear of, but rather he was one of the handful of advanced teenagers who could be trusted to sail on their own. Our life together is a journey filled with my anxiety about his future and with his own frustration about not being like other kids. But on this afternoon, he was just like the others and for a brief few hours he got to feel what it's like to be admired by his peers. I've had dreams that he would love to sail and that it might be a skill set that could serve as a sort of therapy for him! Or that maybe it might be a vehicle for him to make friends (or get a date!). It's been touch and go at times, as I am sure it always is with kids, whether they have autism or not, but suddenly at 13 he's become quite a confident small boat sailor, making me a proud old salt.
