Next Stop: A Memoir

by Glen Finland

Next Stop is the universal story of how children grow up and parents learn to let go—no matter how difficult it may be for both of them. The summer David Finland was twenty-one, he and his mother rode the Washington, D.C., metro trains. Every day. The goal was that if David could learn the train lines, maybe David could get a job. And then maybe he could move out on his own. And then maybe his parents’ marriage could get the jump-start it craved. Maybe. Next Stop is a candid portrait of a differently-abled young man poised at the entry to adulthood. It recounts the complex relationship between a child with autism and his family, as he steps out into the real world alone for the first time, and how his autism affects everyone who loves him.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Autistic Spectrum Disorder, Biography, Book Club

304 pages, Hardcover

First published March 29, 2012

Reviews

[Alice · Rating 5 out of 5]

Although this book is about writer Glen Finland's autistic son and his search for a place in the world, it would be wrong to pigeon hole it as another autism memoir. First, Glen Finland writes like a dream and captures the rocky, guilty, exhilarating life bequeathed to all mothers who are, in her terminology, "good enough." Second, she doesn't have an autism agenda. This is David's story and, as she writes, if you've met one autistic kid, then you've met one autistic kid. Next Stop will make you laugh and break your heart.

[Lisa Roney · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a terrific book about family love and what it means to have a family member who is "different." Though Glen focuses particularly on the autism of her youngest son and the challenges he faces as he grows up and becomes a man, the issues she raises are similar for most any family that faces a disability or health issue in a child. What's most unusual about this book is the combination of Glen's mother-love and her cool journalist's eye that gives her the ability to see even her own family clearly. When I read the first chapter, I didn't like the persona of her husband, Bruce, but as I read further into the book, Bruce became a complex and sympathetic person, but one who has the difficulties of a real human being, as does Glen herself. And she doesn't mince words about those troubling moments that they have. In other words, you feel as you read that you are in the hands of someone you can trust to be honest with you, and she reveals the difficulties with humor and modesty. That the book ends on an up-note that many disabled people never (unfortunately) have, Glen is also cautionary about the discrimination that her son will continue to face in his life. She makes a powerful argument for respecting the disabled and tells a beautiful story of parenting. The writing often sparkles, and the book is a pleasure to read.

[Kathi · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have known a few boys with autism, each at a different level of severity and each, as Finland writes, unique in his autism. Tourette’s Syndrome, with which her son is also afflicted, is a difficult add-on.

All of the boys I know are memorable, but Glen Finland lets me know her David best. She tells his story—and that of his family—unflinchingly.

Her writing and her honesty are admirable. She shares so many details about David’s behaviors. A few include his long-distance running (and running, and running), his bedroom’s disarray, his childlike trust in strangers, and the saddest to me: his incapability of sweetness, of gratitude and affection. I marvel at Finland for sharing her sons and her husband with all of us. I believe her gift is worthwhile; she will continue to increase awareness of and sympathy for these children and their families, especially as they (all) age.

[Jack Cheng]

Finland's memoir of living with her now twenty-something autistic son is full of the casual cruelties and everyday kindness that touch the family. While her husband is convinced that autism shields their son from the worst emotional abuses, Finland suspects that there is a well of anger and frustration at the core that builds up until he finds outlets, like long distance running, or riding the subway.

The subway is where she tries to teach him to be independent and to teach herself how to let go and let him find his way without her. It's a great metaphor and the entire story is relevant to all parents as we negotiate how to separate our children from ourselves so they can be themselves.

[Bap · Rating 5 out of 5]

There is no phoniness here, the memoir is an unflinchingly honest account of raising an autistic son into manhood. The book is beautifully written but without any climax or epiphany because it is a challenge that never goes away and cannot be fully resolved. The one constant is the love and sacrifice that Glen and Bruce share. You will be happy spending time getting to know the amazing Finland family.

[Tanya · Rating 1 out of 5]

I was disappointed with this book. I was drawn to it because of the autism but I was quickly disappointed to see that the person suffered from more than that, making it difficult to relate to. Autism is a spectrum disorder and although there are varying degrees of the disability, the boy ismore disabled than just autism. So, if you are reading this to obtain insight or a better understanding of life with an autistic young adult, this probably isn't the book for you.

[Deb · Rating 4 out of 5]

Glen Finland's memoir of her son's journey into manhood allows the reader honest glimpses into life with a special needs child. Her tone is neither "pity me- life is so tough" nor " Pollyanna- life is wonderful". She simply loves her son and does what she can to help him succeed. The reader comes away with a view of David as an individual, not a poster-child for his condition.
It is a story about love, trust, setbacks and independence- it is a story about life.

[Michelle · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read over half of this and liked it, though parts were heart breaking. I only wanted the mother to find peace and the son to be safe. I will finish it but i need some time to process their relationship and have the strength to keep reading about it.

[Lisa · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is very interesting memoir, because many books about autism are mostly about kids. This one is about different challenges that the family faced with having an adult son with autism. I liked the writer's vivid descriptions of some of the simplest things.

[Rock Angel]

autism told through a parent's perspective

[Jen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Uplifting book about a young autistic man and his support network. Their struggles to help him be self sufficient and to take care of him are wrapped in love.

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of those books that you can not put down. Beautiful story of a mother of a son with autism, trying to help him complete his goals. Extremely honest and heartwarming.

[Kristina · Rating 4 out of 5]

A love story~

[Andrea Burk · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book. It made me cry. Great read as a mother and a teacher.

[Melissa · Rating 4 out of 5]

The cover of Glen Finland's book announces this as Next Stop: A Memoir of Family, whereas the inside title page has something slightly different. There, the memoir's title is Next Stop: A Son With Autism Grows Up.

As it turns out, both subtitles are accurate. This memoir opens with Finland's recounting of the summer that she rode Washington D.C.'s Metro system with her 21 year old son David, in hopes that mastering the rails would lead David to his next stop in his life of getting a job and becoming independent. One expects from this opening that Finland's memoir will follow a path similar to my friend Rachel Simon's bestselling Riding the Bus with My Sister. In a way it does, but in a way it doesn't.

Like Simon's memoir, Next Stop focuses the reader's attention on a critical issue that often goes silent but which families of people with disabilities think about 24/7: what happens when people with disabilities, specifically autism, age-out of services at 21? What happens when a population of individuals with special needs enters a world without jobs, accommodations, or the necessary supports to live independently? We can argue about the reasons for the increase in autism in recent years, the causes for this epidemic - but none of that does anyone any good until we have solutions (and funding for those solutions) in order to best support what is and will be a significant number of people needing services.

"While mawkish TV shows and movies focus on beautiful, hazy-eyed toddlers and quirky adolescents who fit in somewhere along the spectrum, our very real autistic sons and daughters have grown into flesh-and-blood adults with matter-of-fact needs to be met in the communities they live in. We families get that instead of seeing autistic adults as targets for therapy, we must commit to a society in which they have equal access to jobs and the skills to succeed with the support and legal rights they deserve. But we also get that expecting empathy for those who lack it is a tough sell."

Those of us with younger children on the autism spectrum (my Boo is 11) are already beginning to think long and hard about these issues. This is one of the things I love about the autism blogging community: just as we turned to those trailblazers (i.e., parents with children older than ours) for guidance, direction and inspiration in the early, dark days of getting diagnoses and therapies, now we're watching them to see the paths they're blazing for their children. And those who are coming behind us are watching us for the same answers we once so desperately sought - which is why, Glen Finland says, we must tell our stories and "tell them true."

Glen Finland writes candidly and honestly in Next Stop about her and her husband's struggles to find that next stop for David, the impact that has had on their marriage, the relationship between David and his older brothers, and what they keep hidden from their extended family.

""Where to begin with the things I wouldn't be telling my sister today? How to explain the raw sendoff from the teenagers at David's apartment? Or maybe the squelched promise of David's animal shelter job? How about ciphering the impact on David's psyche after two years at an independent living skills program with so little to show for it? No, I would not be explaining what it's like to watch time be so cavalier with a child.

To do so, I would have to unwrap the dried-up scrapbook of Hope that has toyed with me for years. Early on, Hope had me clinging to reports of edgy therapies and magic pills that promised results for my child. And Hope made me overlook the childhood milestones that weren't reached while we waited, believing he'd get there. Then one day, chin up and a bit impatient, I saw that my beautiful little boy no longer fit onto my lap. The cuddliness of his childhood had vanished and a thinned out version of all that sweetness had begun to sprout knees and elbows. In its place was a gangly weed with the unsteady vocal chords of an adolescent boy. But this child was different. Although his body had kept pace with its biological clock, his mind remained veiled in a separate time zone. From now on, social gaffes would go unforgiven and the mother-launched prompts that had worked before - "Got a handshake for the doctor, David?" - would seem domineering and turn me into a nag haunting the background. That thing called Hope had settled into the attic, boxed away.
Nor would I be explaining to my sister that David will make his lifelong journey in this state of being. That my son's present is his future. A solitary life to be lived in the right-here, right-now zone. Because what's not easy today will not be easy tomorrow or thirty years from tomorrow - and, trust me, no one wants to talk about that." (pg. 163-164)

Those of us who have lived this life might recognize ourselves (or our future selves) in Finland's words. She's careful to say right up front that her family's stories are exactly that - one family's stories, different than any of those lived by any other person with autism, or any other family who loves him or her. She also makes no apologies for the honesty presented in the pages of Next Stop, because without families telling their stories as they are, then society as a whole will never understand people with autism and their needs and change will never happen.
"And this is why families must bear witness to their sons' and daughters' potential. Although there is still no known cause or cure for what huddles under the broad umbrella of autism, I believe other healing agents will come out of the telling of our stories. After all, we families live the reality that the researchers are digging ever deeper to comprehend. While we may not understand, we get it.

So, let's tell our stories - and laugh, and cry, and bang our heads on the table if we must - but let's tell them true." (pg. ix)

That Finland does while also laying bare the emotions that parents of special needs share - the fear of what happens after we're gone.

"The howling dread for us and every parent of a special needs adult - the singular ache that dries the mouth and makes the heart race - is the growing isolation. Who will offer this human being a healthy touch, chaste and loving, when I am no longer there? Now, as he moves toward greater independence as an adult, who will know if he has not made it home by the end of the day? And if there is no one, will there be safe shelter for him somewhere in his aloneness?

For years we have fought side by side, battling for the right school, therapy, job coach, and, lately, housing. As we champion his quest to become his own man, we have no idea what twists this life will take. He's finding his own way in to where he wants to go, but he will be alone when he gets there. On the other hand, how many times have I put down the newspaper with a shudder after reading the latest story about a grim act of parental wrath that befalls so many children and young adults with special needs? That's when I find myself studying the power in my son's legs or the fine curve of his jaw. I feel wonder and a bit of awe for what he can do for himself, and am quietly convinced that some kind of grace permeates the everyday world." (pg. 185)

4 stars out of 5.

[Cherie Cawdron · Rating 4 out of 5]

Enjoyed the different perspective of this memoir about raising a child with high needs, as it is set in the transition period from adolescence to adulthood. A difficult period to negotiate for any parent, let alone those raising high needs children. Glen writes without sounding patronising or critical of her family, but at the same time talks openly about what it is like at home and in the real world. Useful book for me, as I enter this parenting phase for a complex child.

[Ada Clayton · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is okay (i was reading it for school) but i definitely would not read it again. Some parts were just really weird and i felt some of the details were sort of unnecessary. Also the flashbacks in the beginning made it extremely hard to understand what was going on

[Heidi VW · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such a great book--whether you have a child on the autism spectrum or not. She gets right to the heart of mothering--loving someone so much that you wish you could fix everything for them, but then loving them enough to not fix everything. A favorite line: "I'm not going to worry today, because one thing life with David has taught me: worrying never makes much difference in the way things turn out."

[Kate Schwarz · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm so grateful to have read this well-written memoir by a local (for me/Northern Virginia) mother about her experience raising and letting go of David, her son with autism and Tourette Syndrome. Towards the end of the book, published in 2009, Finland writes that "today alone--yes, this very day--roughly 110 American families will be told by their doctor 'Your child has autism,' and 70 of those children will be boys." Because of this statistic--surely larger today--we will all interact with children and adults with autism, so we best be armed with empathy and patience. And a little knowledge might help, too.

Finland's memoir is honest and heartfelt. She doesn't flinch away from the points in the past she wishes she could change, including being largely absent in the childhoods of her other two boys, who definitely needed her in different ways, but still did need her. She expresses the frustration and challenges of being a mother of David--I think she'd put on the top of her list the constant little battles with forgetting things, the lack of warmth and expression of love, and the lack of "normalcy" in raising a child and letting it go and being empty-nesters. The details of her long marriage with her kind and funny and sometimes impatient husband were touching and definitely made me tear up. I was glad she wrote of how many parents of kids with special needs end up divorcing because of the skewed balance of time and importance; too often one partner is tired of always getting the leftovers after most of the time and energy of the day has gone to the special needs of the child. But Finland and her Bruce were still going strong at the end of the book, and I hope they still are today.

Finland wrote the book to create a collage of words and memories for her David, and she included her other sons' views of him, as well as her husband's. It is a loving portrait indeed, though it's one of true love--they've accepted him without trying to change him. David still frustrates all of them, but they've grown to love him for who he is, rather than resent who he is not. I also have to add the lesson Finland learned from raising David (especially pertinent to parents of kids with special needs, especially those that might impair their adulthood and require them to live in certain ways): "here's what educating our David has taught us. We should have kept our son in public school and our money in our wallet as long as possible, because we will need it for what happens next. Because what happens next is the rest of his life."

The book really pointed out the obvious: taking care of a child with special needs through their school age years makes sense; that's our job as parents, isn't it? But when they reach adulthood, the normal wings of independence look different and take different shape, and the parent who has served as the main caretaker/enforcer/guardian/reminder goes through just as big a shift as the child needs to. Letting go of a child and letting them make big mistakes and make their own milestones...this is hard stuff indeed. As Finland writes about creating a special needs trust and arguing to retain certain legal rights over David, my heart broke a little for her.

There are so many wonderful snippets from Finland's memoir. You should read it yourself, but here are some of my favorite lines:

- (while at Luray Caverns) "What was it Brian told us just before the lights went out? 'Each time a species disappears, we lose not only those benefits we know it provided but other benefits we have yet to realize.'

- David has taught us that life without tough choices does not exist.

- It seems like every new adventure with David offers us a chance to see the best and worst in people, and too many seem to think differently abled folks should accept a lesser life. It's an ongoing battle against subtle slights, but sometimes you have to push back a little on those who think they own the blueprint for what it means to be human.

- Bruce recently suggested getting the old table resurfaced, but I said no. An unvarnished kitchen table holds a family's history that no scrapbook could ever reconstruct.

[Viviane Crystal · Rating 5 out of 5]

David Finland and his mother, Glen, spend a whole summer traveling the Washington D.C. trains. Whereas it was a constant surprise for David when he was a child, now the goal is for him to learn how to navigate traveling on his own. In fact, that is the goal of this entire account. While it is easy to parent an autistic child forever, assuming responsibility in all aspects, it’s not healthy or beneficial to David. The unspoken question remains if he can maintain independence without always checking in with Mom and Dad, a serious question with no easy answers.
The first thing one realizes on reading is that every disabled child, particularly autistic children/adults, is unique. There’s no cookie cutter pattern to follow but David Finland is able to show what works and what doesn’t. His biggest problem is that he gets so distracted and focused on one thing that everything else is off his radar or thinking.
Glen describes the frantic search initially for what caused David’s problems and is not shy about discussing people’s kind but more often cruel or thoughtless comments about David’s autism, including mainstream children in school who can be the most heartless and the most lacking in understanding and compassion. But the story of Glen and her husband’s journey with David is the most inspiring part of this story. No, they don’t learn it in classes, although they get some clues here and there from other programs. They learn by trial and error, by not condemning and always encouraging, while realistically setting limits, not an easy task at all.
David is off the radar as far as others’ emotional needs but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his own way of showing care and love. The possibilities of jobs come and go but the Finland family forge on, knowing there’s a spot just for David. He loves working with animals which is a distinct possibility for the future. A brief time in Florida turns out to fizzle out, along with a threat from another guy taking advantage of David’s trusting nature. At one point, he vocalizes his “right” to have a job, his own place and how that can’t be denied him.
The story goes on and one, getting better and better. This is such a very real story which anyone in contact with autistic children should read, even if one only briefly meets someone like David. It’ about hope no matter how it’s tested and an unconditional love that brooks no permanent obstacles for an adult son who has the “right” to live like everyone else. This portrait is well-written as well without stereotypical sermonizing or whining, even when it hurts so much! Kudos to you Glen Finland for sharing your journey – we are the better for it and are rooting for David’s future.

[Jennifer · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed this read. I grabbed this book last minute at the library, and am glad I did so. I try to pick books that will expand my world view, from people that have had to deal with different difficulties than myself. This book is about a family. Two parents and three boys. The youngest boy is autistic. I appreciate the author's efforts to document the events, and their effects on each member of the family. As a parent to three children, I appreciate the candor and frank way Mrs. Finland would asses her shortcomings as a wife and mother. I have had some of these same thoughts in regards to my own efforts. But my favorite part about her admissions is that she is striving to learn from them, and that is what I take from this book. Yes, her path was difficult and yes, she has had successes and failures, but she is learning. Growing. Changing. She talks a lot about hope in this book. How it ebbs and flows. As a parent, we often bounce between hopes and despair in regards to our children. This is universal no matter what our child is like. But for parents of children with developmental disabilities, the reprieves (the times of hope) can be short lived. This has definitely helped open my eyes to these children (or adults) and families, and how a kind word or gesture can go a long way. I hope to be a giver of grace when I find myself in situations where my response can bring a little peace, a little relief in the life of another. This book also gave me some insight into family dynamics, and how all the kids need the love and attention of their parents, even if one is giving off more signals than the others. This was a well written book, with lots of opportunities for analysis for those inclined to do so. I would definitely recommend this book to others. The chapters 'I Know a David' and 'Rites of Spring' were my favorites, as they brought a tear to my eye and a smile to my heart!

[Mom · Rating 4 out of 5]

One summer, the author Glen Finland and her 21 year old son David rode the Washington DC trains every single day. They weren't headed anywhere in particular; she was just hoping that if they rode the trains enough, David would be able to ride them on his own. And if he could ride the trains on his own, maybe he could get a job. And if he found a job, maybe he could move out of his parents' home. And maybe he could have an independent life. And what parent doesn't wish all those things and much more for their child?

David has autism and Tourette's syndrome. He faces many challenges and life has been difficult for him and for his family. This book chronicles his life and how his family coped -- and is coping. Finland writes with passion, with humor, and with impressive honesty. There is nothing downbeat about the book, although it also does not sugarcoat the situation. She describes life with her autistic child with clarity and compassion. The focus is not on the autism, but on the relationship between parent and child, and any parent will identify.

This is an inspiring memoir that beautifully expresses a mother's love and courage as she lets her son go into the world.

[Susan Ritz · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a book that really hits the sweet spot of truth. Glen is fearless as she looks at the triumphs and failures of being a dedicated mom to her autistic son David, a often distracted, sometimes neglectful mom to her two other sons and a wife who somehow manages to stay connected to her husband,Bruce. Though there are glimmers and moments of deep connection between Glen and David, this is a book of not quite unrequited, unconditional love. She lets us in on both frustration and triumph as she tries repeatedly to launch David, free herself from her own dependence on him and come to terms with the fact that her role as mom will continue far longer than she had anticipated. Glen never paints herself as a hero, just as a person doing the best she can. This is no happy ending book of triumph. Instead it's some unvarnished truth about how hard it can be to keep on loving.
The book is smart, funny, touching and wonderfully written. The minute I started reading I knew I was along for the full ride.

[Frances Kehlbeck Civello · Rating 4 out of 5]

Many times, I've heard people say "If you've met one child with autism, you've met one child with autism"—and I believe that is true. When I read books about people who are on the spectrum, I often find a few uncanny similarities between them and my son (or for that matter, between them and ME). But often, there are many more differences than similarities...and that was the case with "Next Stop." Written by the parent of a young adult with autism, it's a fascinating look at the challenges faced by parents who want independence for their child and have to face the challenges and overwhelming fear of letting go. I liked this book—really, I did—but I had to keep reminding myself that my son is not David and that his future as an independent adult will probably not be as daunting. So, as enjoyable as this was to read, "Next Stop" also made me extraordinarily sad and anxious. Great writing, so I will probably read it again when Kai is a little older to see if I've gained some perspective.

[Hannah Albracht · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've always been fascinated by autism and needed a book to read on the plane, which is why I grabbed this book at Half Price. It wasn't exactly eye-opening, but it was a really sweet book. I almost want to call it a feel-good book because it is so positive; Finland somehow manages to convey the difficulties of raising a son with autism while making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. It might not have been her intention, but this is definitely the most positive book about autism I've ever read. Before this one I read Far From the Tree by Andrew Solomon, and his chapter on autism made me terrified to have children.

The book is made better by the fact that Glen Finland is a very talented writer and is obviously filled with genuine love and compassion for her son. It's an inspiring book, and I really enjoyed reading it.

[Erika · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked this heartfelt and honest look at a family's challenge and joy in living with their autistic son. I appreciated the tug of war the author felt: on the one hand desiring to give her son all the independence he deserved as an adult, and on the other longing to keep him safe and remain his advocate. The imperfections and complexities within this family were laid bare and the honesty of that was refreshing. Nor was a simple "cure" or happy ending sought to wrap up the memoir, allowing readers to grapple with the ongoing struggle of families and their differently-abled children.

[Hildy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book--it gave me a picture of what it's like to be a parent of a disabled adult child, in a way that was honest and loving. It wasn't designed to be uplifting, just honest, and I loved that about the book. It showed the hard parts, but also the good parts, and gave me a new level of empathy for the experience. Recommended for my friends with kids who have disabilities, but also for those who don't, so we can all understand each other a little bit better.

[Laura Busch · Rating 5 out of 5]

It seems hard to find books that are well-written these days and this one, from the perspective of a mother with an autistic son, is a seamless read that touches the heart. If you are curious about autism, have an autistic family member, work with people with autism, or just want to experience one mother's story of love for her son, this is worth the time. I loved this book. A wonderful book club choice as well

[Nadine Hiemstra · Rating 4 out of 5]

As a sibling of a woman with Down syndrome, I could really feel the tension of a family working to accept their son/brother on his own terms while simultaneously attempting to carve a space for him in a society that moves too fast and is reluctant to adapt to him. I appreciated the mother's attempt to tell this story in a way that shared those challenges, but also respected her son's life and process through the telling.

[Pauline · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book rings familiar for those who live with a family member with a significant disability. Reading this memoir, you feel the same anger, hope, depression, joy, and fear as the narrator. While not a groundbreaking piece of work, I would recommend this novel to people who do not understand the world of "special needs" - it is an eye opening struggle.