The formative experience behind Autonomy Stage OS and 7 Steps to Autonomy.
By Takanobu Sugiura, Founder and Representative Director of the Japan Autonomous Development Association (JADA), and Founder and Chair of Kousotsu Shienkai.
Before I supported young people who could not attend school, I was one of them.
In my third year of elementary school, I began spending my school days in the nurse’s room rather than the classroom. I had allergic rhinitis, but the difficulty was not only physical. The classroom had become a place of fear, and I was losing confidence in myself.
I later moved to Takeoka Yōgo Gakuen (竹岡養護学園), a residential school in Chiba Prefecture. In my Japanese account, I describe spending about six months there. A regular daily routine, outdoor activities, patient teaching, and relationships with other children helped me begin again. [1]
My experience at Takeoka became the foundation for Autonomy Stage OS and 7 Steps to Autonomy, the framework and practical support process I now advocate through JADA. Rebuilding daily life, learning from the basics, and reconnecting with other people were changes I first experienced as a child receiving support. Over more than four decades of working with young people and families, I developed that personal starting point into a practice-based approach to Social Autonomy.
This article is an English adaptation of my retrospective Japanese account. It describes my own childhood, not a diagnosis of another child or a prescription that every family should choose residential education.
Watch the video: my school refusal in third grade and how it shaped my work.
When the classroom no longer felt safe
During the winter of my third year at elementary school, my nose troubled me constantly. In the classroom, even blowing my nose felt difficult. I remember an intimidating teacher and physical punishment for small things such as talking or turning around.
The nurse’s room was different. There, I could blow my nose without that fear. I began going there more often, until being outside the classroom became my normal school day.
That distinction matters. My difficulty did not begin simply as staying at home. I was at school, but I could no longer participate in the ordinary classroom. What I now describe as my experience of school refusal included that period of attending the nurse’s room instead of lessons.
I was also poor at physical education. In my Japanese account, I recall being unable to clear a vaulting box and feeling that even the teacher had already decided I would fail. Classmates’ comments added to the sense that I was the child who could not do things.
Looking back, I understand that period as more than a problem with my nose. I did not feel safe in the classroom, and I did not know how to explain that to adults. [1]
Moving to Takeoka: a new environment I barely knew
The adults around me discussed a transfer. I had grown up in Ikebukuro, Tokyo, and knew very little about the school in Chiba where I was being sent. The recommendation was presented as a way to improve my physical condition.
My parents followed the school’s advice. From my perspective as a child, the decision was largely made by adults. I felt uncertain about the unfamiliar place, even as I understood that something in my life needed to change.
Takeoka was a full-time residential setting. In this article, I use the historical Japanese name from my original account and describe the school as I experienced it, rather than assigning it a present-day medical or educational category.
The move became a turning point. But I do not want to erase how unfamiliar it felt at the beginning. The confidence I later gained was not something I brought with me on arrival. [1]
A daily rhythm, not just an instruction to try harder
Before Takeoka, my grandmother had done much of the everyday work of looking after me, including preparing meals and putting out and putting away my bedding. Residential life was my first experience of a very different daily structure.
We got up early, exercised, ate together, took part in activities, studied, and went to bed at set times. Following the schedule was expected. At first, the unfamiliar rhythm was difficult; over time, it became part of my everyday life. Both my longer memoir and my founder’s message describe regular living and learning again from the basics as central to the change. [1] [2]
What I remember is not a single encouraging conversation that changed everything. It is the repeated experience of living a day differently, with other people around me.
Mornings outdoors
Much of the morning was devoted to exercise and recreation. We spent time near the sea, rivers, and hills: playing in the water, picking up shells, and looking for insects.
I was not suddenly good at these activities. I tired easily and initially felt behind the other children. But repeated participation gradually made the activities more familiar. I began to discover enjoyment in moving my body and spending time outside.
Lessons came in the afternoon. I remember finding it easier to engage with schoolwork after being active. That is how I experienced the rhythm at Takeoka; I am not presenting it as a tested timetable for every child. [1]
Starting again with first-grade schoolwork
At Takeoka, teachers could pay closer attention to what I did and did not understand. My account describes a class of roughly twenty children, compared with around forty-five in my earlier classroom.
I was behind in the basics of Japanese and mathematics. Rather than expecting me to keep up with material I did not understand, my teacher helped me begin again with first-grade exercises.
I still remember the narrow, strip-shaped workbooks. The teacher went back over things I had not understood and helped me practise until I could do more on my own. I worked through foundations such as addition and subtraction, reading and writing, and then moved forward.
Confidence grew through things I could actually do. I was not simply being told to believe in myself. I was discovering, through learning, that the description of me as a child who could not do things was not the whole story.
Working at a pace I could manage made a difference. So did a teacher who noticed progress and kept teaching when I did not understand. [1]
Finding a place among other children
Academic progress was only one part of the change. At my previous school, I had felt singled out by what I could not do. At Takeoka, I lived with other children who also had difficulties of their own.
I remember encouraging one another and gradually feeling able to join in. Teachers were closer to us, and daily activities gave us opportunities to talk and cooperate. As learning became less frightening, expressing myself to other children also became easier.
My confidence did not return in isolation. It developed through ordinary shared experiences: living alongside others, taking part, learning something, and trying again.
These are the elements I return to when I tell this story: regular life, learning from the point of difficulty, and relationships that made participation possible. [1]
From receiving support to supporting others
Takeoka belongs to my childhood. My work as a tutor came much later, after high school and study in the United States. My later Japanese lecture account sets out that sequence. [3]
When I began working with young people who had lost confidence in learning, I drew on what I had experienced myself: go back to what the learner does not yet understand, provide concrete help, and allow progress to become something they can recognize.
Over more than four decades, I carried that starting point into tutoring, educational support, work with families, and practical support for young people. Those later experiences helped me develop and systematize the lessons whose roots lay in Takeoka.
Built from Practice, Not Just Theory. For me, that begins with lived experience. Before I developed a support framework, I was a child who needed help rebuilding daily life, learning, and confidence. Takeoka gave me that starting point.
Takeoka: the foundation of Autonomy Stage OS and 7 Steps to Autonomy
My childhood experience at Takeoka became the foundation of the framework and practical support process that I now advocate through JADA: Autonomy Stage OS and 7 Steps to Autonomy.
At Takeoka, I experienced how a different daily routine, learning from the point where I needed help, and relationships with other people could rebuild my confidence and ability to participate. These were not simply memories that I later matched to a theory. They became a starting point for the support I went on to develop.
Over more than four decades of working with young people, families, schools, and employers, I developed and systematized that starting point into a practice-based approach. The lived experience came first; the framework and process grew through the practice that followed. That is the connection between Takeoka and JADA today.
Autonomy Stage OS is JADA’s central support framework. Within it, the 5-Stage Assessment helps clarify the young person’s and family’s current situation and support needs. It is an assessment framework, not a medical diagnosis.
The 7 Steps to Autonomy organize how that support is put into action. The roots of this approach are especially visible in support for daily life and the environment, relearning, and social contact—now described in STEP 3, STEP 4, and STEP 5. My experience at Takeoka provided the foundation; later practice with young people and families shaped the wider process toward Social Autonomy.
Our guiding philosophy today is Parent Coaching × Direct Support for the Young Person. It brings together support for the family and practical help for the young person. It is not enough to talk only to parents while leaving the young person without practical support. Nor do we ignore the family while working only with the young person.
JADA brings together assessment, parent coaching, support planning, and the direct support a young person needs. Kousotsu Shienkai, the Japanese nonprofit I founded, provides settings for learning, relationships, and practical experience. The two organizations are distinct, and neither should be confused with the historical school I attended.
The longer-term aim is Social Autonomy: being able to make choices, sustain relationships, continue learning or work, and contribute to society. Education, work, taxation, and social contribution are connected aspirations in JADA’s mission. Returning to class is an important step, but it does not describe the whole life that remains ahead.
Watch my story: school refusal in third grade
In this video, I reflect on my own experience of school refusal in third grade: the anxiety I felt in the classroom, the time I spent attending school through the nurse’s office, and a turning point in a residential school setting. A regular daily routine and the chance to revisit the basics of learning helped me rebuild confidence.
I also explain how, later as a private tutor, I drew on those experiences to support a young person who had finished junior high school but had not entered high school. The account connects my experience of receiving support with the work I went on to do for others.
Watch “My School refusal in Third Grade: How It Shaped My Work” on YouTube
- Video title
- My School refusal in Third Grade: How It Shaped My Work | Takanobu Sugiura
- Publication date
- Duration
- Speaker
- Takanobu Sugiura
- Channel
- JADA Global — English YouTube channel
- Topics
- Classroom anxiety; attending school through the nurse’s office; residential school life; a consistent daily routine; relearning the basics; rebuilding confidence; and later work as a private tutor.
- Type of account
- A first-person recollection. It is not a clinical assessment or a claim that one approach works for everyone.
The video provides first-person context for the origins of my approach to educational support and youth development. Read it alongside the account above: my experience at Takeoka became the foundation for the Autonomy Stage OS framework and 7 Steps to Autonomy that I developed through decades of subsequent practice.
After watching, identify one step you can take today: support a regular daily routine, arrange patient help at the point where learning becomes difficult, or clarify parents’ responsibilities. The practical questions below turn these themes into actions for your family.
Questions for parents and educators: what can you do today?
The following suggestions draw on my experience at Takeoka and more than forty years of subsequent teaching and support. They describe what families can do today, rather than the procedures used at Takeoka in my childhood.
1. My child reaches school or another support setting but cannot join the classroom. What should we do?
First, recognize the effort it takes to get there. Reaching school or a place of support is itself a step forward. Do not assess the whole day only by whether your child entered the classroom. I, too, had a period when I reached school but spent my time in the nurse’s room rather than in lessons.
Meanwhile, stay in contact with the class teacher and other relevant school staff. Listen to your child and work together to understand why joining the classroom is difficult and what could make participation possible. Also consider whether the classroom itself is a poor fit. When it is, changing the learning environment should be an option—not simply asking the child to make a greater effort. Maintain a regular daily routine while working on these questions.
What parents can do today: Acknowledge that your child reached school or the support setting. Note where they can spend time, whom they can approach, and which situations are difficult. Discuss with your child what they are comfortable sharing, and contact the teacher or support staff to consider the next step, including a different environment where appropriate.
2. Should learning restart at the level expected for the child’s age?
Not necessarily. Begin at the point where the child needs help, rather than insisting that they immediately work at their current grade level. At Takeoka, I needed to return to first-grade exercises. Patient teaching from that starting point helped me understand more and recover confidence.
Based on more than forty years of my own teaching experience, I estimate that over 90% of children taught patiently from the point where they are struggling come to find learning engaging and improve their grades. I offer this as an experience-based estimate from my teaching, not as a guaranteed result for every child.
The most important thing is not to make a child dislike learning. Do not turn learning into a race against classmates or a demand to catch up immediately. Help the child experience what it feels like to understand something. It is never too late to start learning again.
What parents can do today: Ask a teacher or learning-support practitioner to identify where understanding first becomes difficult. Agree on one starting point and arrange patient teaching from there. Notice what your child has understood, rather than comparing them with other children, and protect their willingness to keep learning.
3. Does my child need a residential school because Takeoka helped you?
No single personal story can answer that question for another family. Takeoka changed my environment in several ways at once. The relevant question is what your child needs now, and which setting can provide it safely while taking their wishes into account.
What parents can do today: List the support missing at present—daily routine, learning help, trusted relationships, or opportunities outside home. Discuss those needs with your child and an appropriate practitioner before deciding on a move.
4. How can parents maintain or rebuild a regular daily routine?
Maintain a regular daily routine. If it is not yet in place, agree on a division of responsibilities and actively support it. Where both parents are involved, decide who will help with waking up, meals, daytime activities, and preparing for bed. Do not leave all of this to one parent or assume that the other parent knows what to do.
If you cannot agree on that division of responsibilities or put it into practice, I recommend JADA’s parent coaching. We help parents clarify their approach and decide who will do what, alongside the practical support the young person needs. A parent supporting a child alone can also discuss these responsibilities with a support practitioner.
This is not about stricter punishment or using fear to enforce attendance. The aim is a regular daily life supported by clear, consistent roles, not humiliation or force.
What parents can do today: Review waking, meals, daytime activities, and bedtime together. Decide who will provide each form of support, and begin encouraging the agreed routine. If the roles remain unclear or disagreements prevent action, contact JADA about parent coaching rather than continuing to carry the difficulty within the family alone.
Families worldwide can arrange an English-language Zoom consultation about parent coaching and the support their young person needs. JADA Main Office: contact@jada-autonomy.jp
5. What should we notice beyond whether school attendance resumes?
My account includes learning again, joining activities, and becoming more comfortable with other people. These changes help explain why the experience mattered beyond returning to lessons.
What parents can do today: Note one action your child has managed in daily life, learning, or contact with another person. At the next support discussion, identify what made it possible and what help is needed for the next step.
A difficult school year was not the whole of my future
As a child, I came to think of myself through the things I could not do. Takeoka gave me repeated experiences of doing something differently: following a daily rhythm, joining an activity, understanding an exercise, and relating to another person.
I did not know then that I would spend my working life supporting other young people and families. What mattered was that I had begun to recover confidence in my own ability to learn and participate.
That is why I do not want a young person’s future to be reduced to whether they can enter a classroom today. I want us to ask what support, relationships, and opportunities can help them take their next step.
The experience that helped me begin again at Takeoka became the foundation of my later work. Through more than four decades of practice, that foundation developed into Autonomy Stage OS and 7 Steps to Autonomy. My story is therefore not only about recovering from school refusal; it is also about where JADA’s approach began.
I was once the child who needed that help.
To explore the approach that grew from this foundation and decades of subsequent practice, read about Autonomy Stage OS, the 7 Steps to Autonomy, the JADA Support Philosophy, and the JADA Success Hub. For education, support-practice, media, or international knowledge-exchange inquiries, contact JADA.
Tried making changes at home but still need support?
You do not have to work through this alone. JADA offers English-language Zoom consultations for families worldwide.
When efforts at home are not enough, we can help you clarify your family’s current situation, agree on parents’ roles, and discuss the practical support your child or young person may need.
Our approach combines Parent Coaching × Direct Support for the Young Person. The consultation is a starting point for discussing the next steps for your family.
Request an English-language Zoom consultation
JADA Main Office
contact@jada-autonomy.jp
To request a consultation, please email your country or time zone and a brief outline of your concerns.
Sources and scope of this account
The childhood narrative is adapted from my Japanese memoir and related first-person accounts. My explanation that Takeoka became the foundation for Autonomy Stage OS and 7 Steps to Autonomy reflects how I describe the origins of my own work. This is a retrospective personal account, not an independent evaluation of a school or a claim that one setting produces the same result for everyone.
- Takanobu Sugiura’s Japanese account of school refusal and Takeoka Yōgo Gakuen. The main source for the classroom experiences, approximately six-month stay, residential life, outdoor activities, learning from first-grade exercises, and relationships with other children.
- Kousotsu Shienkai: founder’s message (Japanese). A shorter account of attending the nurse’s room, residential life at Takeoka, and the importance of regular living and relearning.
- “My own school refusal was the starting point” (Japanese lecture article). This places high school and study in the United States before the later tutoring work. It describes a lecture held on July 19, 2025; that event date is not used here as a YouTube publication date.
- Takanobu Sugiura, “My School refusal in Third Grade: How It Shaped My Work”, JADA Global. Published October 15, 2026; duration 18:09, as shown in the author-provided YouTube Studio record. The introduction to the embedded video summarizes its accompanying description: classroom anxiety, attending school through the nurse’s office, residential school life, relearning, and later private tutoring.
The published accounts give different exact waking and bedtime hours, so this adaptation describes the regular daily pattern without choosing one clock time. The account traces a developmental sequence: lived experience at Takeoka, decades of later support practice, and the framework and process now presented through JADA.
