The Reason I Jump

Naoki Higashida is a Japanese boy with autism, a boy who has real problems with spoken language, and therefore seemed completely shut in and non-communicative.

But due to his own determination and his parents', he learned to communicate using an alphabet grid and a computer. With tools he can use, he is anything but "non-communicative."

This book, written when he was thirteen, is one of the longer-term results. He talks about what autism is like from the inside, and what millions of parents would like to know: what things really help him master his own behavior, understand the rest of us, and what helps him communicate.

Inside that silent, often seemingly unresponsive exterior, is a smart, capable, well-spoken young man.

Autism isn't the show more same for every autistic person, and can look very different in different people. Naoki is open and clear about that, and tries to be clear about when he's talking about his own experiences, and when he's offering his best interpretation of why other autistic people do other kinds of seemingly common autistic behaviors.

He's intelligent, thoughtful, and kind, even if it isn't always obvious from the outside.

There's also an introduction by David Mitchell, about how this book helped him, his wife, and their autistic son, which led him to work to get it translated. The introduction as well as Naoki's book are well worth reading.

Highly recommended.

I borrowed this book from my local library. show less

Remarkable short book, consisting of short sections in which a thirteen year old boy with significant effects of autism -- he cannot speak -- describes his life, and what it is like for him to live with autism, and what he believes it is like for others with the condition. He cannot speak, but he can type, slowly, on a grid.

He provides answers to questions such as : why do you ask the same questions over and over? what is the worst thing about having autism? why do you jump? The book's powerful effect is to teach the reader not to confuse an autistic person's difficulty in communicating or processing information or displaying his or her self, with a lack of intelligence or thoughtfulness or a nuanced understanding of the world and his show more or her place in it. The author displays a far greater self-awareness than the thirteen year-olds I have known, and in doing so helpfully corrects many assumptions we might have of what autism is and what it means for the person with the condition. Naoki Higashida is remarkable. show less

I won [book:The Reason I Jump: The Inner Voice of a Thirteen-Year-Old Boy with Autism|16113737] through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewer program. I will say at the outset that it is a wonderful book, short but powerful. It is written by 13-year-old [author:Naoki Higashida|6566404], a Japanese boy who was diagnosed with autism at the age of five. He writes by spelling out words on an alphabet grid although apparently he is able to use a keyboard but finds the more arduous process more comfortable.
I was very interested in the book for several reasons. First, the book is translated by one of my favorite authors, David Mitchell, who wrote Cloud Atlas and Number9Dream (among many other books), who also wrote the introduction. Mitchell is show more also the parent of a young child with autism. He writes that the book was a “revelatory godsend” and that “Reading it felt as if, for the first time, our own son was talking to us...through Naoki’s words.” The book revealed to Mitchell that “locked inside the ... autistic body is a mind as curious, subtle and complex as...anyone’s.” He speaks of the book as “restoring faith” and revolutionizing his relationship with his son. Higashida’s sharing of experience brought Mitchell a renewed sense of purpose, patience, and energy in dealing with the often-overwhelming and exhausting experience of raising a child with autism.
This offering of insight, of a look into the mind of someone who has a significant degree of autism may even by itself be a reason to read this book. It will help anyone but especially those like Mitchell and myself who parent a child who is on the spectrum. Higashida speaks with a gentle but strong voice of both the suffering and gift of being autistic. He writes that those with autism are like aliens in our world but given the right environment would be as curious and effective as those of us not struggling with a disability. He writes movingly of his desire to learn and the obstacles that get in his way. The ways he meets these obstacles, he writes, may seem like odd choices and preferences that in fact are a refuge in the familiar. He says that he may respond to commercials and choose to line up objects in his free time not because these activities are of special interest but because he knows that he can do these things: this is comforting and reassuring to him. However, he writes, he would prefer to be learning something new and difficult. He is too overwhelmed to learn independently but, he repeats frequently, he is grateful to those who are patient enough to teach him.
Another reason I was eager to read this book is that in addition to parenting a child on the spectrum, I am also a teacher of adolescents who are on the autistic spectrum. The book is written in a question and answer format that addresses many of the questions frequently asked about people with autism, such as “Why do you ask the same questions over and over,” Why are your facial expressions so limited?” and the question that leads to the book’s title because in many ways it sums up Higashida’s experience, “Why do you jump?” I have watched many students spend hours jumping so I found this question, as I did so many of them, to echo directly my own thoughts. (I will refrain from giving Higashida’s response: you’ll need to read the book for that!). Higashida’s responses are wonderfully honest and direct (two of the traits I love about my students who almost without exception possess them in abundance-be careful what you ask a person with autism, they will answer with the truth as they see it!)
Related to my interest as a teacher, parent, and reader, is my interest as a human being in the experience of others. Why I read, generally, is to break out of the prison of my own perspective and, for however briefly, have a glimpse of another’s experience of their world. This book gives me more than that. Higashida makes an enormous effort to communicate his experience of life and I felt honored and enlightened. Like Mitchell, I felt as though I had been given the gift of renewal in my relationships with my students.
In a blurb on the back cover, Andrew Solomon (a distinguished author who wrote Far From the Tree and The Noonday Demon) writes that the book “takes about 90 minutes to read” while increasing our understanding of “human.” I agree that the book expanded my understanding of human experience but, while each section is quite short, one or sometimes two pages, and the book overall less than 200 pages, I did not read it as quickly as Mr. Solomon did. Although I am generally a fast reader, I found most sections so packed with experience and insight that I spent as much time reading a page as I usually do reading 10 or 15. The writing is not glib nor is the experience always easy to access. I did not begrudge the time I spent reading the book; I valued it greatly.
My only serious quibble in fact, is that both the author and translator assume the book represents the experience of all those with autism. I would wonder if, as in anyone sharing experience, there are certainly some aspects that are common to others on the spectrum but that there are other interpretations of his autism and how it influences his actions and emotions that are particular to Higashida. I think it disrespectful (however inadvertently) to seize one person’s experience and make it universal to all. People with autism are, after all, people first and while there are surely aspects of their experience shared by others who also have autism, they also have their own unique perspective and experiences. In addition, Higashida is sharing as truthfully as possible his understanding of himself but he often admits he is not sure of all his reasons. All of us are both unique and general; all of us struggle throughout our life to gain understanding into our own motives and perceptions.
Higashida writes of his special relationship with nature. One of the gifts, as he sees it, of his autism is a deep and direct experience of the beauty around him. Ka Yoshida (Mitchell’s wife) is one of the book’s illustrator’s and the beautiful black and white illustrations are “nature based” and both resonate with and complement the text.
At the end of the book, is a short story written by Higashida. Earlier in his book, Higashida explains that he writes down his experiences so he can remember it. He also creates short stories, perhaps for reasons similar to why he writes other experiences and, in fact, this book: to better understand himself and his autism. The story, “I’m Right Here,” explores the experience of a young boy who, through no fault of his own, becomes an alien within his family and his life. Although the circumstances Higashida creates are different, it seems the effort to make sense of a world in which he is often perceived (by others as well as himself) as “different” are a part of this fiction as well.
Higashida was born in 1992 and graduated from high school in 2011. His brief bio states that he is an author of several books of fiction and non-fiction and an advocate for others with autism and a motivational speaker.
The Reason I Jump does both: it advocates for those with autism who are unable to communicate their experience to us, giving the rest of us a glimpse into the complexity of their world and the minds often hidden by their autism and is motivational in giving us a sense of the intrinsic worth and beauty of life and the courage shown by those around us that we might never see.
I strongly recommend this book to all. It will deepen your understanding not only of those with special needs but of your own life and experience as well. I am extremely grateful to have won this book and had the chance to live within its covers. show less

"Everybody has a heart that can be touched by something."

"The Reason I Jump", written by Naoki Higashida and translated by David Mitchell (author of Cloud Atlas) and his wife is short in length but each word is purposeful. What is remarkable is that Naoki was only 13 when he wrote the book and he struggles in writing sentences out himself relying heavily on an 'Alphabet Grid', a laminated print out of a keyboard, that allows him to point out each letter to form his words to those around him.

The book takes the form of a Q&A session in which he covers virtually every element of life; sights, sounds, scents and memories, and concludes with a short story that he wrote himself. There are some 58 questions and despite the vast array that the show more narrator uses to interview Naoki, his answers become largely repetitive pointing to the single simple message that he is trying to relay.

In the book Naoki describes himself as a prisoner of his own body and suggests that he might be better off if the people around him were more understanding of his way of life. I picked this book up because my job means dealing with the public and I have a couple of friends whose sons have the condition. Whilst I realise that this is only one person's experience of autism I came away feeling that I had been given a glimpse into an unknown hidden world. I also hope that I have gained some added respect for those individuals living with the condition and will endeavour to be more patient and understanding to anyone who might be struggling in the future; that after all is what the author is really asking for. I would recommend this book to everyone but especially to those who have public facing occupations. show less

The Reason I Jump is fascinating, and well worth the read. It's very fast, too - you'll be done before you know it.

It's structured in a question and answer format, with behaviors we've all wondered about featured. Naoki is able to articulate, by picking letters from an "alphabet grid" via computer, how different the experience of those with severe autism is from ours, and also how similar their feelings are, even though it is so hard for them to articulate those feelings. He explains why eye contact is a problem, how their memory operates differently, why they behave in certain ways, and how easily their senses can get overwhelmed. And, yes, the reason he jumps. I don't know enough to know whether the way he experiences autism is as show more widely shared as he believes, but he certainly is explaining common behaviors in a way that makes sense. The differences in processing sensory input, and behaving physically in our world, are striking. Much of his message is for us all to be patient with them, very patient, and to stick with it when they seem to push us away. He comes across as very bright, humble, and engaging. He even includes a couple of stories he has written, one of which is particularly thought-provoking - "I wrote this story in the hope that it will help you to understand how painful it is when you can't express yourself to the people you love."

An example of what he does here: in explaining their propensity for repeating questions: "We aren't good at conversation, and however hard we try, we'll never speak as effortlessly as you. The big exception, however, is words or phrases we're very familiar with. Repeating these is great fun. It's like a game of catch with a ball. Unlike the words we're ordered to say, repeating questions we already know the answers to can be a pleasure - it's playing with sound and rhythm." He addresses all the difficulties in controlling physical motion and emotions, and his own remorse in the aftermath of a meltdown: "I'll calm down and . . . see no sign of the tsunami attack - only the wreckage I've made. And when I see that, I hate myself. I just hate myself." One reviewer called this a "Rosetta Stone", and it has that feeling of revelation, a way into a world we have never understood. I can't say enough good things about it. Definitely dig into it - you'll zip through, I promise. show less

I don't know what I was expecting when I picked this book up off the shelf, but I was surprised by the level of anguish expressed by this young writer. We are often led to believe that the emotional experiences of individuals on the non-verbal portion of the spectrum, are muted, or dulled, by the fact that they have autism. Rather, their emotions are experienced in much the same way as anyone else's. As a matter of fact, their emotional life can be heightened by the fact that individuals with autism are not always able to express themselves in a way that truly conveys how they are feeling.
I can't say I enjoyed this book, because it hurt my heart, but I do appreciate the perspective, and hope that I am able to put this new information to show more good use in the future. show less

This short book mostly consists of questions and answers from a Japanese autistic boy as he talks about how we sees the world. There is some controversy around how much those answers have been embellished by his transcribers and translators. I found the book interesting because I welcomed any insights into Naoki's perspective--and most of all, I see several pages in this book as starting points for discussions with my own son, who is twelve and autistic.