I have been buried under years of dust A memoir of autism and hope

In this debut, Valerie Gilpeer writes a compelling narrative of motherhood, and her daughter, Emily Grodin, offers insight into how she began to express herself late in life, having been born with nonverbal autism. Gilpeer writes candidly, without falling into self-pity, and her early chapters offer personal reflections as well as resources for families affected by autism. Insight into the authors' lives becomes clearer midway through, when Gilpeer becomes more involved in disability activism. In alternating chapters, she effectively describes the difficulties she faced securing Emily's care, from institutional hurdles within the educational system to marital discord and social isolation. Perhaps the most moving part of the book is when Gilpeer recalls seeing her daughter type her thoughts for the first time. The sections Grodin contributed are engaging; she focuses on her successes and her determination to change perceptions around ASD in order to improve the lives of others. VERDICT In the epilogue, Grodin writes, "I am with you." And now, because of this book, she is with all of us. An impactful memoir of self-discovery.--Allison Gallaspy, Tulane Univ., LA

A memoir of autism in which a young woman finds her voice after being unable to effectively communicate until her mid-20s. "For the past 25 years I have been trapped inside a body without a voice." So writes Grodin, who is able to do so after learning to type with a communication device. Gilpeer, her mother and co-narrator, opens with a fraught incident in which Grodin had been enrolled in special courses at UCLA but had an altercation with a caregiver that required police intervention. "We made it through this incident, but what about tomorrow?" she writes. "We needed to plot a course forward for her, establish how she'd make her way in this world when [her father] and I would not be present as her mediators." Moving back and forth across time, Gilpeer recounts how she and her husband became aware of Grodin's emerging condition, which involves a series of "issues with the central nervous system, and the best way to diagnose and characterize the condition was through noting disturbances with motor functioning--impairment to speech, social interaction, and eye contact." A dominant emotion in the autistic person is fear born of frustration; for parents, chronic anxiety reigns. Both authors write in detail of the "stims," or "self-stimulatory behaviors," that autistic people exhibit, including rocking, spinning, or making unusual noises. Sometimes, this behavior frightens those who do not understand that, as Grodin relates, these are the only avenues of communication available to the autistic person. "Rocking is like my security blanket," she writes, whereas hitting herself in the head is "me wanting to hurt myself for not being normal." Now that another path of communication has opened, Grodin expresses her dedication to achieving certain goals: among them, starting an exercise routine, learning about her Jewish heritage, and going on a date. Parents of children with autism will find gentle, helpful guidance in these pages. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.