Last updated on November 26, 2023
My wife and I have two neurodiverse young daughters. The girls are in the first and third grades, ages at which doctors verify or revise diagnoses. As parents, we reference my experiences with the health and education systems to evaluate the services provided to the girls.
Reading Rosie Weldon’s autobiography My Autistic Fight Song, I remain concerned that my girls will struggle as the grow up, facing obstacles at school and work that won’t be easily overcome. Relationships? Our eldest daughter already struggles with interpersonal connections and communication.
I received a review copy of Weldon’s work almost a year ago. My Autistic Fight Song was published in April 2020, shortly after our daughters shifted to virtual learning. The COVID-19 pandemic required that I focus on the girls during the day. At night, I was teaching university courses online. My apologies for this late review. Setting time aside to read for myself has been difficult.
Weldon begins her higher-education journey without an autism diagnosis. She does have other diagnoses along the way, including anxiety and depression. Many autistics diagnosed as adults endure a similar evolution of diagnoses and labels.
My Autistic Fight Song covers only the “Further Education” (FE) system and beginning professional career of Weldon. The work is not a full-life autobiography, nor is it as detailed as readers of the genre might expect. On my iPad, the edition was 181 pages. There’s nothing about her childhood or early education experiences. Weldon does not divulge much about her family or her friends. I appreciate her respect for the privacy of others, though more details might help readers understand interpersonal dynamics and autistic connections.
As a parent, I appreciate the text for what it does offer. I’m most concerned about education and employment for my daughters.
Note: For some readers in the United States (maybe most) the terms used will be confusing initially. The final two years of what we consider secondary education are optional and known as “college” in the United Kingdom. Students spend two years preparing for the General Certificate of Secondary Education exams. The GCSE exams cover specific subjects; it’s not one unified graduation exam with a single cumulative score. When we hear or read about “A-Levels” those are the GCSE Advanced Level exams. It’s not quite a direct comparison, but think about Advanced Placement (AP) exams that count towards college credit and advanced admissions. (See https://top-courses.org/uk-education/gcse-a-level/ for a good explanation.)
For all the heated debates about high-stakes testing in the United States, most nations have much higher-stakes exam models. In the U.K., a student needs to consider university programs by 16 and the final three A-Level exams during college determine future paths.
I wondered if Weldon enjoyed the earlier grades or if they were as difficult for her as what I observe my daughters enduring. If Weldon expands the text or authors another, I’d like to know how she managed the overstimulation of most early grade classrooms. How did she interact with teachers? Did she have connections to young classmates?
Our daughters faced early discrimination, having been in the foster care system. It’s assumed they are “broken” and destined for trouble.
Note: Studies suggest boys, especially white middle-class boys, are quickly identified by teachers as needing educational supports. Low-income students, minorities, and girls are overlooked when teachers consider academic needs. Instead of being recommended for supports, teachers and administrators classify the low-income, minority, and female students as “behavior issues” destined for never-ending “disciplines” that harm the students.
Weldon clearly made it into college for GCSE preparation. She’s good at learning.
Within this high-pressure model, an autistic seems certain to suffer. Weldon does and she writes honestly about the stressors: space, time, people, and group work. Oh, how I despise group work.
One benefit of the U.K.’s model for autistics might be the lectures. As an instructor in the United States, I’m expected to lead discussions. We resist lectures as poor pedagogy, though research is more mixed than some want to admit.
Weldon clearly prefers to receive information, read, take notes, and not engage in discussions on the materials. We’re so insistent on “community building” and “shared discovery” that we forget many students are introverts or have hidden disabilities. The group-driven classroom is a space Weldon avoids, as many autistics do.
On a campus or in a workplace, Weldon needs quiet space. For me, that’s somewhere far from the buildings and people. For Weldon, it might be an empty room or even a restroom cubicle. When she begins working, Weldon finds some peace, or at least slightly less stress, in the last stall of the restroom.
Navigating to a campus, or to work, via public transit would leave me unable to function for a few hours. Weldon also needs recovery time after traveling.
Friendships and romantic relationships pose a challenge for Weldon. Autism is a communication difference, which presents an immediate barrier to connecting with others. However, autistics also struggle with executive function, social ceremonies, sensory overload, emotional overload, and more.
For Weldon, her autistic traits lead to difficulties with touch, in-person communication, and even remembering dates such as Valentine’s Day. When a partner expects an autistic me meet social norms, there’s often disappointment and anger. Autistics might be accused of selfishness or self-centered thought; this is often because we’re making every effort simply to function in an overwhelming situation.
Weldon does seem concerned about her sexual orientation. Without knowing more about her family and the communities in which she lives, this confounds me. My wife’s best friend, a gay man, was at her side during our wedding. Though a stereotype, my love for stage and screen have led to many friendships and professional connections within the LGBTQA+ spectrum (that’s really an unwieldy acronym). I’m sorry that anyone feels some anxiety about sexual orientation.
When Weldon does seem engaged in her relationships, the interactions are via text messages and computer games. She connects digitally to her friends and lovers. This seems to be true for many autistics, as online frees them from the complexities of vocal tone, body language, and other social cues.
Digital spaces are easier, safer spaces for some, including Weldon. She’s rather email than talk on a phone or in person. She writes of not wanting to take any phone calls. I relate to that anxiety. (I send calls to voicemail and then listen to them several times. I often respond via email.)
At one point Weldon mentions her young brother, born while she’s in college, is also autistic. Their connection might be the relationship that’s strongest in the book. They understand each other, enjoying their weekend time.
She does seem to be connected to her family, though little is written about most of the members. Again, this book focuses on school and work, but it might benefit readers to learn about family influences on Weldon. Our families shape our interpretations of what is acceptable and normal. Her family does seem supportive, especially her mother.
Weldon’s mother makes sure she receives supports during school. She pushes Rosie, as a mother does. Because Weldon’s mother has her own physical challenges, she appreciates that differences become barriers to independence.
If anything troubles me in the text, it is the frequent distrust and pessimism Weldon internalizes towards the people around her, including those trying to assist her. She has built emotional walls, which is why I wonder about her earlier life experiences with teachers and classmates.
Without spoiling what I consider the best part of this story, Weldon does discover that educators and employers sometimes support autistics and foster our success. There are universities and companies that have good support policies. These organizations judge us by our skills, not our deficits.
Accounting, like technology work, allows us to be judged on our ability to follow rules and implement logical solutions to problems. Math makes sense to Rosie Weldon, the way computer code appeals to me. Again, I don’t with to encourage assumptions about autistics, but Weldon isn’t alone in preferring a concrete field of study and employment.
Rosie Weldon records the experiences of a contemporary young autistic woman. Autistics, especially young women, are often compared to Temple Grandin. The stereotypes arising from this don’t represent our individual experiences.
There are some passages that address self-harm and depression. Many undiagnosed autistics experience a variety of diagnoses before they receive the autism diagnosis. This could lead to treatments, or a lack of treatments, for the symptoms of autistic traits. Also, many autistics do experience alienation and depression, especially in cultures that seem to favor extroversion and place a high value on social skills.
As I have written before, I have never experienced clinical depression, but I have had friends and colleagues lose their lives to depression. Treatment and supports must be timely and appropriate. Mental health discussions are more common today than 25 or 50 years ago. Still, people suffering from depression tend to blame themselves for not just moving on with life.
Weldon’s willingness to discuss medical treatments hopefully encourages others to realize that our minds and bodies function together.
As someone with a palsy and dystrophy, when Weldon has apparent neurological trouble with her legs, I assumed she was preparing readers for a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis or a similar condition. Readers might learn from her experiences, which teach us that the body responds to emotional and neurological stress.
Concluding Thoughts
Judge the memoir My Autistic Fight Song by Rosie Weldon for what it is: a short reflection on higher education and early employment experiences… with a little bit about interpersonal relationships. This memoir isn’t an autobiography from an early age; it omits a lot of experiences before Weldon complete college.
Weldon is not offering a relationship guide, nor a manual for success. The reader must decide what to learn from Weldon’s reflections.
She’s offering her story as one of countless autistic experiences.
Additional Information
Amazon Link: My Autistic Fight Song by Rosie Weldon
Website: www.rosieweldon.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/rosieweldon118