The Reason I Jump: The Inner Voice of a Thirteen-Year-Old Boy With Autism

he can’t provide a short, straight answer – such as to the question ‘Why do you like lining up your toys so obsessively?’ – what he has to say is still worthwhile. Naoki Higashida has continued to write, keeps a nearly daily blog, has become well known in autism advocacy circles, and been featured regularly in the Japanese
Big Issue
. He says that he aspires to be a writer, but it’s obvious to me that he already is one – an honest, modest, thoughtful writer, who has won over enormous odds and transported first-hand knowledge from the severely autistic mind into the wider world; a process as taxing for him as, say, the act of carrying water in cupped palms across a bustling Times Square or Piccadilly Circus would be to you or me. The three characters used for the word ‘autism’ in Japanese signify ‘self’, ‘shut’ and ‘illness’. My imagination converts these characters into a prisoner locked up and forgotten inside a solitary confinement cell waiting for someone, anyone, to realise he or she is in there.
The Reason I Jump
knocks out a brick in the wall.
    David Mitchell
    Ireland, 2013



P REFACE
    When I was small, I didn’t even know that I was a kid with special needs. How did I find out? By other people telling me that I was different from everyone else, and that this was a problem. True enough. It was very hard for me to act like a normal person, and even now I still can’t ‘do’ a real conversation. I have no problem reading books aloud and singing, but as soon as I try to speak with someone, my words just vanish. Sure, sometimes I manage a few words – but even these can come out the complete opposite to what I want to say! I can’t respond appropriately when I’m told to do something, and whenever I get nervous I run off from wherever I happen to be. So even a straightforward activity like shopping can be really challenging if I’m tackling it on my own.
    So
why
can’t I do these things? During my frustrating, miserable, helpless days, I’ve started imagining what it would be like if everyone was autistic. If autism was regarded simply as a personality type, things would be so much easier and happier for us than they are now. For sure, there are bad times when we cause a lot of hassle for other people, but what we really want is to be able to look towards a brighter future.
    Thanks to training I’ve had with Ms Suzuki at Hagukumi School, and my mum, I’ve learnt a method of communication via writing. Now I can even write on my computer. Problem is, many children with autism don’t have the means to express themselves, and often even their own parents don’t have a clue what they might be thinking. So my big hope is that I can help a bit by explaining, in my own way, what’s going on in the minds of people with autism. I also hope that, by reading this book, you might become a better friend of someone with autism.
    You can’t judge a person by their looks. But once you know the other person’s inner self, both of you can be that much closer. From your point of view, the world of autism must look like a deeply mysterious place. So please, spare a little time to listen to what I have to say.
    And have a nice trip through our world.
    Naoki Higashida
Japan, 2006



Q1 H OW ARE YOU WRITING THESE SENTENCES?
    The Alphabet Grid is a method of non-vocal communication. You might think that speech is the only way to get your points and intentions across, but there is another way to say what you want without using the vocal nervous system. At first I never dreamt I could make it work, but now I’m well able to express my true self using only a computer and an alphabet grid.
    This was an incredible feeling! Not being able to talk means not being able to share what you’re feeling and thinking. It’s like being a doll spending your whole life in isolation, without dreams and without hopes. Sure, it took a long time before I could finally start communicating via written text on my own, but on that first day when my mum supported my writing hand in hers, I began to acquire a new way of interacting with others.
    Then, to allow more independent communication, Mum invented the alphabet grid. The alphabet grid makes it possible to form my words by simply pointing to their letters, instead of having to write them out one by one. This also lets me anchor my words, words that would otherwise flutter off as soon as I tried to speak them.
    Often, while I was learning this method, I’d feel