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

“It’s like being a doll spending your whole life in isolation, without dreams and without hopes.”

Higashida describes one of the most painful aspects of having autism: namely, that without the ability to fully express oneself, others assume that you have a reduced or non-existent inner life. Thus, one becomes the “doll” that they imagine cut off from others and from a shared humanity.

“To make myself understood, it’s like I have to speak in an unknown foreign language, every minute of every day.”

Higashida’s description of what it is like to try and communicate with others as a person with autism is analogous to constantly having to speak in a foreign language insofar as one is unfamiliar with the native language of others and is constantly anxious about making errors and being misunderstood. Just as there are aspects of a language that remain obscure or unknown to a non-native speaker, there are aspects of everyday communication, like body language, tone, and context, that remain opaque to some people with autism.

“[T]here’s a gap between what I’m thinking and what I’m saying.”

Higashida attempts to explain why some people with autism struggle with verbal communication. Whereas people without autism can express their thoughts near instantaneously in speech, some people with autism must “think about” what to say before saying it, causing a temporal gap between thought and expression. Such a gap can make conversation for some people with autism seem slow, awkward, and difficult to people without autism.

“Both staying still and moving when we’re told to is tricky—it’s as if we’re remotely controlling a faulty robot.”

Higashida explores the reason why some people with autism struggle with responding to physical commands. The reason, he explains, is that they do not move and respond intuitively but must employ a separate mental act to “command” their body to move, as if ordering a robot. As Higashida’s comment suggests, this robot is also often “faulty,” responding slowly or inaccurately to the commands it is given.

“[B]eing able to share what I think allows me to understand that I, too, exist in this world as a human being.”

Higashida outlines the importance, for him, of being able to communicate with others through writing. Writing, and being able to express his thoughts to others, allows him to feel that he is part of a common world and humanity. For communicating with others, he suggests, is essential to the sense that we are fully human.

“None of the other animals was at all interested.”

Part of the short story “Slip Sliding Away” is about the hare and the tortoise from Aesop’s fables having a rematch. In Higashida’s sequel to Aesop’s story, none of the other animals are interested in the rematch proposed by the hare. This can be interpreted as a parable for the importance of putting the values and interests of others above the egotistical desire for competition and glory. For even though the hare “wins” the rematch, his victory is made hollow by the absence of anyone to watch or acknowledge that victory.

“1. I think about what I’m going to do. 2. I visualize how I’m going to do it.” 

Higashida describes the first two steps of three that he must go through before performing any action, with the third step being to encourage himself to do it. The laborious nature of this process stems from the alienation Higashida experiences from his own body. Such alienation, and this process, inevitably means that he takes a long time to complete even simple tasks or is unable to do them altogether.

“[O]ur parents and teachers—would be ecstatic with joy and say, ‘Hallelujah! We’ll change them back to normal right now!’”

Higashida imagines the response of his teachers and parents if a “cure” was found for his autism. Even though they may care for him, suggests Higashida, they still believe that he and themselves would be happier if he were “normal.” In this way, without ever saying so, his parents and teachers subtly reinforce the societal prejudice that Higashida is somehow deficient because of his autism.

“If only there was a planet somewhere with a gravitational pull perfect for people with autism, then we’d be able to move around freely.”

This statement is made by Higashida after the short story “Earthling and Autisman.” In the story, an earthling visits Autisman’s planet and describes how he feels weighed down, only for Autisman to explain how, conversely, on earth he feels weightless. The story is an allegory about how “normality” is a relative concept and about the longing of some people with autism to recover their own sense of “normality.”

“So by jumping up and down, it’s as if I’m shaking loose the ropes that are tying up my body.”

Higashida answers the question from the book’s title about why he continually jumps in the air. Higashida explains that he jumps because his body feels constricted and it is as if he is freeing himself from ropes. On a deeper level, his jumping can be seen as an expression of a desire to be free from the constraints of a world that is continually hostile to his needs.

“Letters and symbols are much easier for us to grasp than spoken words, and we can be with them whenever we want.”

Higashida explores the question of why he writes letters in the air with his hands. As he explains, he does this because of his love for letters. Letters, unlike spoken words, which are fleeting and ambiguous, provide a sense of permanence and certainty.

“The reason could be that if we don’t do these actions, we’ll go to pieces completely.”

Higashida explains that some people with autism do certain, seemingly random things not because they have different senses or because they enjoy doing it. Rather, these behaviors are often defensive reactions to help ward off or control panic attacks and extreme emotional reactions.

“When a color is vivid or a shape is eye-catching, then that’s the detail that claims our attention.”

Part of Higashida’s account of how some people with autism perceive the world differently compared to people without autism argues that while neurotypical people see a whole scene first, and only afterward attend to the details in that situation or scene, some people with autism do the opposite. Namely, they focus on the details first and then only later come to see the whole. Higashida also suggests that this allows some people with autism to see the beauty in the details, like color and shape, which neurotypical people can overlook.

“We just want to go back […] To a primeval era, in fact, before human beings even existed. All people with autism feel the same about this one, I reckon.”

One of Higashida’s more controversial claims posits that all people with autism have a connection with, and long to return to, a state of evolution before creatures lived on dry land. This claim is largely based on some people with autism’s apparent love of being in water and feeling free from external stimulus and distraction there.

“We get a real kick out of numbers, us people with autism.”

Higashida explains why some people with autism enjoy looking at and memorizing timetables. His explanation is that some people with autism love things involving numbers because, he argues, numbers are fixed and unchanging and thus reassuring, unlike human relationships and expressions which are ambiguous and mercurial.

“I’m constantly learning about how ordinary people are supposed to feel in given situations.”

Higashida’s comment reflects a desire to learn about new situations and emotions and to make himself better acquainted with the world. However, it can also be interpreted negatively as a description of Higashida’s “masking.” Namely, he is describing part of how he attempts to understand how normal people are supposed to behave so that he can mimic that behavior.

“And whenever I learn something new, I write a short story dealing with the situation in question.”

Higashida gives insight into why he writes the kinds of short stories found in The Reason I Jump. He writes them in part so that he can remember new situations. He also writes these stories so that he can explore the significance of these new situations, and especially how they shed light upon his autism.

“I get the sensation that my body’s now a speck, a speck from long before I was born, a speck that is melting into nature herself.”

Higashida discusses the reason he loves nature: In part, this love is because it allows him a respite from the stresses and complications of ordinary existence. On a deeper level, though, he finds in nature a connection with a force greater than himself and an ability to dissolve himself, if only for a moment, into that force.

“I’ve been searching for the path to happiness for a long, long time but still can’t find it anywhere.”

In the short story “The Black Crow and the White Dove,” the crow subsequently tells the dove that there is not one path to happiness and that all the roads are in fact connected, a comment that reassures the crow. This interaction can be read as a metaphor for how some people with autism can show neurotypical people how to avoid anxiety and find happiness by embracing differences rather than resisting them.

“When I’m not moving, it feels as if my soul is detaching itself from my body.”

Higashida answers the question about why he is always moving and running away. This comment reflects the unease that some people with autism continually feel with regard to themselves and the world around them. The desire to escape this feeling by moving or running away often invites censure and criticism from others.

“Not a surprised look, not a searching gaze…more of an icy, heart-chilling stare.”

Shun, the protagonist from “I’m Right Here,” describes how he notices people are suddenly looking at him because he has, unbeknownst to him, died. On an allegorical level, the chilling stare can be seen as a reflection of the way some people with autism experience interactions with others, as something alienating, once they have discovered that they are different.

“The first thing I have to work out is how do you live when you’re dead.”

At first, alone and without a body, it seems as if there is nothing to do when Shun reaches heaven. Metaphorically, heaven, and this comment, reflect the challenges some people with autism face once they have accepted their diagnosis, of finding a new way of enjoying life.

“The things my brother used to like are the same things that I like.”

Nozomi, Shun’s sister, is born because of his sacrifice. This comment reflects the conflicted status both of Nozomi and the message of “I’m Right Here.” It is not clear whether Nozomi’s birth continues or erases Shun’s identity or what this implies for Higashida’s reconciliation with, or desire to escape from, his autism.