Line Rothmann: A Versatile Fiber Artist Driven by Curiosity and Creativity

Line Rothmann is a multi-talented artist from Denmark. She gave a compelling TEDx talk titled "My World Without Numbers" in 2015, which has since garnered over 100K views. In this interview, Line shares her journey with dyscalculia. From her struggles in school to her weaving and embroidery, Line's story embodies resilience and creativity; it also provides valuable insights into how she navigates dyscalculia with a positive mindset and turns challenges into opportunities for personal growth.

AS: Where do you live, and what do you do for a living and for fun?

LR: I live in Aarhus, the second largest city in Denmark. My work and hobbies blend together. I graduated from Kaospilot in 2015, which is a project leadership business school. Since then, I've done various jobs, including working as an assistant at the theater, painting props and stage design, playing music, and teaching project leadership and management at the Royal Academy of Music. There, I teach students how to fundraise, make project plans, and write good applications. I also have a studio where I create art and conduct embroidery workshops. It's a diverse mix, but it sustains me. Additionally, I work occasionally as an assistant for a friend who has a physical disability. It's a bit of a mishmash of different things, but it all comes together.

AS: Can you share more about your journey with dyscalculia? How did you first realize you had it, and how has it impacted your life and career?

LR: Growing up in the '90s in Denmark, dyscalculia was largely unknown. I struggled with math from a young age and was given extra classes. Around age 10 or 11, I was taken out of regular classes for special education. 

In Denmark, you have the opportunity to take a gap year when you finish obligatory school and before you start something equivalent to high school, called Gymnasium. I took this gap year, known as 10th grade, to take extra lessons in math because I wanted to go to Gymnasium.

It wasn’t until high school when I learned math at a very high level that I found a specialist who diagnosed me with dyscalculia.  One funny moment was when I was trying to find a specialist to test me for dyscalculia, I had to call numerous people. When I finally got the correct phone number, I accidentally dialed the wrong number. My best friend laughed, saying it was a sign, but eventually, I reached the right person. During the test, one task involved counting dots on a screen. I was so afraid of doing too well because I thought it would mean I didn’t have dyscalculia and was just stupid. The specialist reassured me that he was looking at how I counted, not just the result. I counted the dots individually without a system, unlike others who would group them. This diagnosis was a huge relief, proving that my struggles were real and not a reflection of my intelligence.

There was also a humorous yet stressful incident during my high school math exam. I am usually very punctual and arrive 10-15 minutes before a meeting. However, on the day of my written math exam, I received a call from my school asking why I wasn't there yet. I had miscalculated the date and time. I rushed to school, arrived late, wrote my name on the exam paper, and handed it in blank because the level of math was completely out of my reach. My classmates jokingly called me an urban legend for arriving like a rock star and turning in an empty paper.

Then there was the whole thing about Kaospilot. Kaospilot is a hybrid between project leadership, process management, and business. Some people call it a business school, but I wondered how I could attend since I couldn't remember anyone's birthday or do simple math. However, the environment at that school taught me that business is more about mindset than the mechanics of math or budgeting. Being in that environment gave me the confidence that there's a place for me in this world, even in areas I didn't think I was allowed in because I'm bad at math.

For me, the dyscalculia diagnosis was a new stepping stone, a new foundation to build on. I know that, OK, now I have these difficulties. Then I need to figure out where to move from there. It kind of gave me more confidence in the learning environment.

AS: What are some specific strategies or tools you use in daily life to manage dyscalculia?

LR: I rely heavily on alarms to manage my time and reduce stress. If I have an appointment, I set an alarm to remind me when to get ready, so I don't worry about it all day. The alarms help free space in my mind. As a teenager, I loved music and knew the value of an album. I used to compare prices to the cost of CDs, which was 150 Krones at that time, to understand if something was expensive. Listening to talk radio helps me keep track of time throughout the day, as the programs and news segments are scheduled at specific times. I also used to ave a playlist and estimate time based on the length of pop songs, which are typically two and a half minutes long. It’s all about finding ways to navigate daily life without letting dyscalculia overwhelm me.

Additionally, I openly communicate my needs and challenges to those around me, which makes managing daily tasks easier. When teaching at the Royal Academy of Music, I tell my students upfront about my dyscalculia, explaining that I might need help with simple math tasks and that it’s not a joke. This openness creates a supportive environment. I also make a very elaborate schedule for myself to manage the time with my students effectively.

AS: How did you feel about being different from your peers growing up? Did you feel mostly positive, mostly negative, or mixed?

LR: I think I was lucky growing up in a home where my oldest brother and my father were both dyslexic. My parents didn’t have the language for it as we do today, but there was an empathy and understanding that we all walk different paths. They knew that struggles in one area didn't mean inadequacy in all aspects of life. At home, it felt safe to have these struggles.

At school, however, I felt like all eyes were on me. I often compensated for my difficulties in math by being noisy, making jokes, and taking up space in other ways. Looking back, I realize it was my way of gaining control of the situation. I developed various tactics to fit in and not stick out because of my dyscalculia. I wanted people to see all aspects of who I am, not just my dyscalculia.

As I got older, I made a clear decision to be upfront about my dyscalculia. I told my class, friends, and colleagues. I worked in a kindergarten and during the job interview, I humorously mentioned that I shouldn’t be the one to count the kids, but I could do many other things. This openness helped me manage expectations and also allowed others to see my strengths.

AS: In your TEDx talk, you mentioned that people often focus too much on one specific aspect of a person, such as a disability, rather than the person as a whole. What words would you use to describe yourself as a person other than the fact that you are dyscalculic?

LR: It's so hard to put those words on yourself. I hope that people, when they meet me, will acknowledge that I am curious, and I aspire to be curious for the rest of my life, and that I'm creative because that's what I do. I do things with my hands, Those two—curious and creative—are the most important things. Maybe kind as well.

AS: In your talk, you emphasized the value of learning from people who are different from you. Can you share a specific example of how this has enriched your life?

LR: I have a quite recent example. One of my friends died recently, but it wasn't tragic at all because she was 104 years old. Her name was Herdis. Being friends with someone so much older than me, who retired five years before I was born, offered an extreme view on time and life. We had great discussions about feminism and democracy, which she spent her entire life fighting for. She advised me to get younger friends because otherwise “everyone will die from you.”

Growing up in the school system, we're always with people born in the same year, which is nice for a mirror. However as an adult, you need to find groups or interests with diverse people. I strive not to be too aware of my own age. I see myself as an individual who can find common interests with different people. I have friends who are 12 years younger than me with mutual interests in music, and I had Haddis, who was almost 80 years older than me, with shared interests in politics.

I also have friends with physical disabilities, and hanging out with them gives me perspectives I wouldn't have otherwise. Hearing firsthand experiences of being a wheelchair user in the city has made me more aware of things like trash on the sidewalk. This diverse friend group enhances my view of the world, and I wouldn't have gained these insights without these friendships.

AS: In your talk, you spoke about embracing our entire selves, including our weaknesses and strengths. Can you share moments or experiences that have helped you or inspired you to live more authentically?

LR: I think the turning point was when I decided to be honest about my disability and difficulties. It really unlocked something in me. I realized, and probably always knew, that people are happy to help when you ask for it. They see it as a compliment rather than a burden.

When I flipped that mindset and thought, "I need to ask for help; otherwise, if I do it in secrecy and make a mistake, people will be angry at me for doing it wrong," everything changed. If I am open and say, "I need help with this," people respond positively. They say, "Of course, I want to help you. It's nothing for me to tell you what time it is or help you with the calendar."

That realization was a huge milestone. It reaffirmed that people are inherently kind and willing to help. Embracing this idea has helped me live more authentically and with less fear of my weaknesses.

AS: What feedback have you received from your TEDx talk?

LR: The TEDx talk has opened many doors for me. I still get DMs from people all around the world, even nine years after the talk. They find me on Facebook or Instagram and share long passages about their lives with dyscalculia. It's incredibly humbling and a privilege to gain insight into their experiences.

The talk has also led to numerous opportunities. For instance, I became part of a research program for Universal Music called “Neurodiversity in Creative Teams”. This involvement led to a job as a speaker and other unexpected angles and opportunities.

AS: How would you describe your creative process in weaving and embroidery, and how does dyscalculia influence the process?

LR: It was quite random how I began at the school. The Kaospilot school I attended is international, with people from all over the world. I had a very good friend from Sweden, Nakima, who invited me to come to Stockholm. I texted her back saying if she found me a partner, a job, or an education, I would come. She didn't find a partner or a job but found an education, so I applied and got in. My family has always expressed creativity through hands-on work like woodworking or textiles, so it was natural for me, although I never saw myself as an artist before.

The three years I spent in Sweden were transformative. I began practicing and calling myself an artist, especially in free embroidery, which doesn't have strict rules. However, dyscalculia comes into play because my learning disability spirals, coming back in loops. I still have breakdowns where I think everything is terrible. For example, weaving involves basic math with lots of numbers, and I realized the groundwork for the computer is essentially a loom. This caused frustration because everything I’m interested in has a math aspect.

Nevertheless, I had great teachers who encouraged me to find my own systems, even if it meant not being a commercial weaver who follows specific measurements. They taught me to use the loom as a creative tool. Now, I still call friends from Sweden for help when setting up my loom. I enjoy the freedom in embroidery and embrace the mistakes I make in weaving, making them part of my artistic expression. 

AS: I resonate with that. Learning crochet, I often lose track of counting, but those irregularities make my projects, like coral reefs, look more natural and realistic. Do you see dyscalculia primarily as an obstacle to your creative process, or can it also be helpful?

LR:  On good days, I see it as just the cards I've been playing with, and I need to play them the best I can. On bad days, the times when I mess up can be annoying as I’m a bit of a perfectionist. That said, it’s true that many people find these imperfections charming and relatable, especially in a world where everything is manufactured to perfection.

Weaving and embroidery are the corners of my life where I can completely ignore my disability, so I'm hesitant to invite dyscalculia into my creative space, even though it could make for great art.

AS: What advice would you give to someone who has just been diagnosed with dyscalculia?

LR: I was given advice by the person who diagnosed me, and it has stuck with me. He told me to view my math abilities as a landscape with holes. Some holes are small enough to fill, and others are too big to ever completely fix. Instead, I should build bridges over or navigate around them. This perspective put me at ease. Rather than spending my life feeling frustrated over my dyscalculia, I focus on learning enough to manage the condition and then use my gifts elsewhere. 

My advice is to carefully choose which holes to fill. For example, I needed to learn to read a clock, so I focused on that. For other things, like mental calculation, I use tools like a phone. View your diagnosis not as a box that confines you but as a platform to build upon; see it as a stepping stone, not a label. That’s my advice.

If Line's story resonates with you or you have a story to share, we invite you to join the conversation in the comments below and follow us for more insightful interviews and articles on Dyscalculia.org. Don't forget to share this article with friends and family to spread awareness about dyscalculia!  Annie Shan, Dyscalculia.org Intern