Mayfly Project helps foster kids by combining nature and life skills

Twelve-year-old Derrick Villarreal chose his fishing spot with care. Stomping over the high brush with his fly-fishing rod held high, he settled on the bank with a watchful, if impatient, eye on the rainbow trout darting below the pond’s glassy surface.

“What a lotta people don’t understand is that it’s high-risk, high-reward,” Villarreal said, never taking his eyes off the water.

Though the tangle of grass was hard to traverse and frequently got caught in his fishing line, he said, the fish felt safe here among the weeds and let their guards down.

Villarreal is one of nine foster kids learning how to fly fish this year with mentors from The Mayfly Project. By the end of the five-day program, Villarreal will not only know how to fly fish, his mentors hope, but how to respect nature and cope with life’s stresses.

“With foster kids, they struggle more,” Heather Philpot, Villarreal’s adoptive mother, said.

Foster kids are more likely to struggle with mental illness, social relationships and school performance than their peers, with those who age out of the system experiencing the most acute effects, according to a 2013 scientific study published in the Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry.

Since The Mayfly Project began in 2015, the Arkansas-based group has mentored 2,300 foster kids across the nation.

With a hand on her hip, Philpot watched her son and his mentor, Daniel Garrison, tromping through the grass downhill.

Villarreal doesn’t have a paternal figure at home, Philpot said, and she was happy to see the two bond. The group doesn’t assign mentors and mentees, instead letting them choose each other organically, said Kaileigh Cera, lead mentor and co-founder of Santa Fe’s Mayfly Project.

Villarreal was the first kid to arrive on the project’s first day, Garrison said, and the pair had stuck together ever since. Garrison helped Villareal aim his casts on the group’s first outing in the Pecos.

“I’m sorry — I suck at this,” Villarreal said after a misplaced cast wound his fishing line firmly around a thistle uphill.

“You don’t suck, you’re just in a difficult situation,” Garrison said while untangling the line.

An hour into the day, Villarreal had already caught several fish, but his confidence was easy to shake. Each time, Garrison reassured him and reminded him to be patient.

Garrison was an aerial gunner in the U.S. Air Force and found his love of fly-fishing while stationed in South Dakota.

“I would fish wherever I could, wherever I was stationed,” he said.

Teaching comes easily to Garrison, it’s what he spent the latter half of his career in the military doing.

When he retired, that habit stuck. With his own kids grown up, Garrison jumped at the opportunity to combine two things he loved: fly-fishing and mentorship.

Developing relationships with mentors is just as important as developing a relationship with nature, Cera said. While Villarreal waited for a bite, Cera quizzed him on the basics of fly-fishing and catch and release.

Villarreal passed with flying colors, earnestly explaining how to handle a fish out of water.

Much like Boy or Girl Scouts, the kids receive buttons for what they do well. Many of the buttons focus on responsible outdoor recreation like picking up trash or safely catching and releasing a fish.

By the end of the program, Cera said, several kids, some of whom had little or no outdoor experience, told her that they want to go further into the wilderness and stay for longer.

A plethora of scientific studies have linked exposure to nature with better academic outcomes and less disruptive behavior. Moreover, a scientific review of nearly 100 prior studies suggests that outdoor education “boosts positive coping and buffer(s) children from the impacts of stressful life events.”

The review explains that outdoor education seems to work better for disadvantaged students, and improves their academic outcomes.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” Cera said. “It gives them a brain rest.”

Forty minutes down a dirt road, and miles into the Pecos, the kids had the rare — and typically expensive — opportunity to fish on pristine, private waters. Dappled sunlight shone on the pond’s emerald surface as rainbow trout flitted under floating algae, disappearing into the depth.

Philpot hopes this experience will give her son, already an avid fisherman, a healthy outlet for life’s frustrations.

Down at the pond, Villareal whooped with excitement. He leaned back to reel in his catch, the fish reluctantly flipping in the calm water.

Garrison dashed down the hill with his net in hand as the fish approached the bank of reeds. He scooped up the foot-long trout, dipping his net into the water. Villareal wet his hand, removed the hook and lifted the fish up for a quick picture.

The rainbow trout, with its signature shimmering red stripe, struggled as Villareal stooped to place it back in the water. Seconds later, it swam back among the weeds and disappeared into the still water.

“Should we take a water break?” Garrison asked.

“Nope!” Villareal said, throwing his arms back for another cast.

Mayfly Project helps foster kids by combining nature and life skills