Thorns and Roses

When I was 13 on a Boy Scout hiking trip in New Mexico, the group I was with closed each night with an activity called 'thorns and roses' where we sat around and said one highlight and one challenge we had encountered that day. Two days ago at a work meeting, we did a similar sort of activity reflecting on highlights and challenges of the past year. Though I could have named many different thorns and roses regarding my work experience in Japan, nothing came to my mind so clearly as the thorn, or challenge, of dealing with the disciplinary system I've seen in these schools.

Maybe yesterday's lessons are a good starting point. Yesterday one of the ni-nensei (8th grade) classes had to give short speeches concerning one of their favorite experiences, sports, movies, etc. This particular class has a few kids who are regularly disruptive and rude to other students and whoever happens to be teaching. Yesterday was no exception. They began the class by interrupting me as I was trying to explain the difference between saying 'good morning' as a polite greeting among colleagues and 'morning' as a greeting among friends. After the JTE (Japanese English teacher) said something to him, one of these students muttered something about not being able to understand me as his reason for interrupting me as he did.

During the speeches, the two boys, who sit next to each other, continuously interrupted the other students as they spoke; they kept laughing among themselves, and even made fun of some of the students as they were speaking. I was at the back of the room while the JTE was at the front and we were both trying to evaluate the students' speeches. About halfway through the speeches, after noticing the JTE wasn't doing anything to quiet them down, I moved closer to where the boys were sitting so I could get them to shut up. I had to keep hushing them up for the rest of the class period because they would only be quiet for a few seconds and then resume their chatting and laughing.

Neither of these students did a speech because they had spent the entire previous period messing around while the other students did their speech preparation. Really, I don't think them acting as they did is what really bothers me, though at the time it bothered me a great deal. Rather in a deeper sense what bothers me is how their sort of behavior gets dealt with by the school. The easy fix in my mind would be to separate the two boys so they don't sit next to each other and get each other going. But as far as I can tell, they've been sitting next to each other for a while now and there are no immediate plans by any of the teachers to separate them; and because in Japan the teachers, not the students, move classrooms, they continue to sit next each other for almost every class and subject, covering most of the school day.

The same day in another ni nensei class, two students, friends, were sitting behind a new student, making fun of him, throwing bits of eraser at his head, and trying to tick him off. This student is new to the school and to my surprise the JTE did nothing to stop these kids from bullying him. During class I literally had to walk over and tell the two boys to sit down as they were getting in his face and taunting him. After class I told the English teacher about the bullying I saw and mentioned that the three students should be separated. She gave me her usual nod and smile and that was the end of our conversation.

Though in this particular instance I think the JTE was wrong to not stop the two boys from bullying another boy, most of the time she seems to be doing the best she can with the situation she's in. She's not a teacher who has by any means 'given up' trying to control her students. Often it seems to me she's acting with prudence, having little to no good alternatives. There's no detention at these schools, nor is there much in the way of expulsions. Compared to my middle class suburban junior high, at this middle class suburban junior high fighting and horseplay tend not to be as big of a no-no. Also I have a strong suspicion that the parent teacher conferences tend to supress these problems because the teachers avoid direct confrontation with the parents about their kids.

Discipline is more indirect here. When I'm in class I feel like there are unspoken rules being followed by the really bad students, depending on their relationship with the teachers. These, as opposed to set in stone 'school rules' more or less dictate the boundaries of how they can or can't act. Also I've heard that in most junior high schools (around here anyway) the teachers move ahead in grades along with the students, so if they teach ichi nensei (7th graders) this year, they will teach the same students as ni nensei (8th graders) the following year. By the third year of junior high school, the same teacher will have taught a group of students for three consecutive years. The teachers tend to really get to know the students and vice-versa in ways that transcend professional boundaries and lean more towards familial relationships.

It's been a real challenge trying to understand and cope with such a different disciplinary system. It aches me to realize that in the hundreds of classes I've been a part of in Japan, working with 14 different teachers at 6 different junior high schools, I've never once seen two troublemakers get separated by a teacher during a class. Nor have I ever seen a student get kicked out of class for being too disruptive. When I was living in Iizuka, one of the JTE's told me that the climate of learning in one of her classes all revolved around one student's mood. 'If he's in a bad mood he'll turn 3 or 4 other students against me, and class will be ruined.' `But,` she said, 'If he's in a better mood those 3 or 4 other students will actually pay attention and class goes alright.' No wonder these teachers so often let rotten students sleep in class.

Overall I wouldn`t say the disciplinary system is broken, but to allow some students to, from class to class and day to day, ruin a junior high education for others simply because they happen to be in the same class as them seems to me an instance of total failure.

Anyway hopefully I can get on with some of my roses in my next post.

Two highlights from last week

Last Friday I went to the school gym to watch the first year students participate in an event called 'Hyaku nin isshu.' This roughly translates to '100 persons' poems.' The students got into groups of 10, with teams of 3 on 3, a judge, and scorekeepers. They sat on the gym floor with each team facing each other, in between them lying 100 cards the size of playing cards. The cards all had the second half of a Japanese poem called a 'waka' written on them. The whole waka was read out by a teacher on the stage with a microphone, and when the students were able to recognize which was the second half of the waka among the cards, they slapped or took the corresponding card in front of them. With about 240 students and 10 students per group, the entire gym floor was covered with small groups of 13 year-olds, all taking turns getting poised, searching quickly with their eyes and slapping the gym floor.

There was a big drum called a taiko on the stage next to the teacher reading the waka. Before the next poem was to be read, a different teacher would hit the taiko with a drum stick, making a deep BONG! sound that echoed throughout the gym. And the wakas were read with a certain tone and rhythm that made their 900 year old roots come more alive for me. When I saw the principal walking around observing the kids I asked him what the meanings of the poems were, and he told me he didn't know because they were written too long ago. In fact all the writing on the cards was in hiragana, the phonetic alphabet used for Japanese (as opposed to foreign) words; another teacher told me this is because the original Chinese 'kanji' characters they wrote the wakas in aren't used at all anymore.

Some of the kids were really fast. If the teacher read just a few syllables from the waka these students could grab the corresponding card almost immediately. It was fun watching these kids, often grabbing or slapping a card on their opponents' side after hearing just a few of the beginning sounds of the waka. A teacher told me that the students could officially start practicing as early as December for the event. But he also said some families play or practice it at home, and a few of the wakas are exceptionally well-known to Japanese people.

Watching this event was a great highlight for me. This game was not something I would expect as part of a curriculum at a junior high school. In that way, and with the drums, old poetry and rhythmic reading of the poetry it all seemed so Japanese. And after the event came another weekly highlight. After all the games were finished, one of the teachers took an opportunity to address all the first year students regarding recent complaints from teachers.

Apparently some students had been using the classroom key to lock teachers out of the classroom when classes were about to begin. It was interesting hearing this teacher speak because I found myself following his Japanese much better than I expected. I found myself understanding him explain to the kids that they shouldn't do that sort of thing cuz they wouldn't like it being done to them. He spoke at a medium pace and his pronunciation was very easy to follow. This same teacher had just spent time reading poems for the kids during the previous games and there his voice was very full and clear as he followed the rhythmic and tonal pattern of the wakas. I thought his voice much, much clearer than the other teachers' who had also read some poems. I decided if I had the chance I'd compliment him.

At the end of the day as he walked by my desk in the teachers' room I said to him (in Japanese) 'You know your Japanese is easy to understand.' Immediately he smiled, said thank you and something like 'wow, that makes me happy.' Right after I said this to him two things happened very quickly. First, I happened to catch the vice principal staring at me from across the room as if he were following our conversation. This immediately brought to my mind the sound of his Japanese, from day one slurry, usually indecipherable, and in total contrast to the Japanese I had just heard spoken in the gym. Second, right after he said this another teacher happened to walk by and asked him what he was so happy about. He smiled and said 'Paul told me my Japanese is easy to understand. I've gotten praised!' At this time, the teacher who asked him why he was so happy I remembered had just given a speech to the students as well, and done it in pretty clear Japanese too. So I said to him 'Oh and your Japanese as well. It's also easy to understand.' He smiled. 'Oh me too? Thank you very much,' he said, as the vice principal continued to stare with a curious look.

After this I packed up my backpack and began my daily walk out of the teachers' room. As I passed by the vice principal sitting at his desk I said my habitual goodbye phrase regarding honorable work being completed. I noticed that funny look he had in his eye, but ignored it and headed towards the door. Then I heard him say (in Japanese) 'Is my Japanese hard to understand?' I turned around and sort of cocked my head a little to the side like a dog and said back to him (in Japanese) 'uhh it's a little...' He said 'You just told Takenaka sensei and Kobayashi sensei their Japanese is easy to understand. What about mine?' He was smirking. I had no excuses to give him. Since last April I've had many uncomfortable conversations with this tall man that ended with 'Sorry I don't understand,' sentences left unfinished or ended only because we had been interrupted. Then he asked 'Is it too fast?' This made me think of his particular pattern of speech where I thought his words were not spoken too fast but all blended together as if he were chewing with a mouth half full every time he spoke. I lied. 'Yes, too fast' I said. Standing there not knowing what to say next I said, "Well, I'll just have study more huh.' Maybe knowing I was in a tight spot he repeated the phrase about honorably finishing work which any other day meant 'good job today' but the way he said it and flicked his hand I'm pretty sure this time meant 'Just go home ya little smartass.'

On Cuteness in Japan

I'm going to try to write more about my experience and impressions of Japan in my final two months of living here. The first topic I've chosen is a light one, cuteness. So from time to time, if I can stick with it, I'll be posting one of these longer entries, like the one I'm posting today.

On cutess in Japan

I don't know if there's a country on earth that values 'cuteness' more than Japan. To start with, I'd bet serious yen to say that no other country in the world makes a greater effort to 'cutify' the most basic and naturally 'uncute' sorts of things. On a trip to Nagasaki, my girlfriend and I walked by a gas station and saw, on the side of one of its buildings, an oil spill, a gas can, and another petroleum related object, all turned into cute little characters. And if you've looked at my photos from winter vacation, you've probably seen 'Mr. Poo,' a piece of smiling toy poop you can by from toy dispensers in Japan. Really these gas products and Mr. Poo are only a few of countless examples of cute characters I've seen while I've been here. Also, since I left Iizuka, a much smaller rural town, more and more of these characters have been popping up in my life. I think in Japan today, it's hard to go out in the city and not see cute, friendly characters smiling and greeting you inside trains, buses and stores; also at railway stations, construction sites, and even police stations.

Admittedly, the creation of many of these characters seem rooted in advertising - like the Japan Railway (JR) company's cute frog mascot that holds hands with a small clock that is smiling. But that doesn't explain the myriad examples of state and city sponsored signs I've seen hanging in bus windows, bathrooms and neighborhoods often giving out information related to public safety or utility by means of these cute little characters.

These characters seem to define a pattern of cuteness that conforms to an age-old cultural trait often attributed to the Japanese - a profound love of simplicity as an aesthetic expression. That is, these characters are not cute in a big, flashy sort of way but rather in an easy, simplistic sort of way. Take, for example, Japan's most famous animation (anime) characters who, aside from having their own cartoon shows on national cable television, are always guaranteed prime shelf space at any bookstore, selling serious after series of their spin-off comics, or 'manga.' And I'm not talking about any of those intricately drawn characters like those you see in much of Japanese manga. I'm talking about the children's classics: the ones more often doodled in notebooks by the students I teach to and the ones more generally well known in Japan.

Maybe the best example of these is 'Kitty-chan,' or, as she's known where I'm from, 'Hello Kitty.' Last week as part of a school exercise I happened to be drawing her face on the blackboard and realized that she has no mouth! Also she has barely a nose and has eyes the size of Minnie Mouse's pupils. The 3 next-biggest-name anime characters I can think of fit this same cute, simplistic pattern: there's Anpanman, whose face is really just a few dots and 4 circles, Pikachu, the yellow Pokemon character who may be the simplest and cutest of all monsters, and, in my opinion the cutest of all Japanese characters, Doraemon. In my first month of living in Japan I was told that Doraemon was actually made into a firework pattern that lit up the sky (as well I'm sure as a bunch of cute little Japanese kids' eyes) at a fireworks festival somewhere in Japan.

Characters aside, I think nowhere in Japan does cuteness make its mark stronger or deeper than with its kids. I've reluctantly come to believe that, on the average, Japanese kids are way, way cuter than American kids. And, for a long time, I ignored this semi-conscious thought because it just didn't seem rational. But, after 17 months of observation and sound confirmation from a few trusted people, I've come to accept this fact.

The other day I saw a little kid coming back from school wearing a school uniform consisting of mid-thigh length black shorts, medium high white socks, black shoes, a black jacket with gold buttons, a matching black hat with gold trim, and a shiny, boxy black backpack that resembled the shape of a mailbox. The way he was dressed made it seem like he was out that afternoon delivering telegrams. He was beyond cute, but in my experience not at all a rarity in that respect.

I think in trying to understand the cuteness of Japanese kids, it's important to note the kinds of clothes they wear. At school, clean, well-fitting pressed school uniforms really help. Outside of school, many times these kids look like they're dressed as little adults. For example, the little girls I see with their families often wear dresses with simplistic patterns that, if larger, would fit grown women, and make those women look cute. Beyond the kids' clothing, I think another big advantage they have in being cute comes from the fact that in public these kids all seem so darn well behaved. Last, there's gotta be something in the language, or tone of the language, that helps gives them an edge. Japanese seems softer and more rhythmic to me than English - a little easier on the ears in general; I think you get less 'funk' and 'sharpness' coming from Japanese kids' mouths when compared to English speaking kids'. So, dressed up like little adults, these small, well behaved, often toothless Japanese kids speaking their softer language seem to me unrivaled in cuteness when compared to children in America.

Another example of prevalent cuteness I find in Japan is in Japanese lunchboxes. Everyday at school, many students and teachers bring a 'bento,' or lunchbox, to eat at lunchtime. These bentos are basically small containers, usually half the size of any American lunchbox. These small containers of food are wrapped with a clean cloth, usually patterned with an eye-pleasing design and often with bright colors. At the top of this wrapping is a knot holding a smaller rectangular box, which contains a pair of chopsticks. Nearly everyday around lunchtime I watch teachers and students carrying these small bundles that look unmistakably like presents, done up with a cute, simple wrap-job.

But inside the bento may lie the greater cuteness. Now, keeping in mind I haven't seen this example myself, I've heard stories from other foreign English teachers that there are Japanese mothers who use cute cookie cutter sorts of shapes to cut out their kids' cooked veggies with - like a little star shaped cooked carrot to go along with their fish /meat and rice. Worse, I've also heard about mothers' getting competitive about how cute they can make their child's bento; but remember these last two examples are only hearsay.

Speaking of cute food, I distinctly remember the first moment I realized such an adjective such as 'cute' could be so applied. Running late to work one morning I stopped at a convenience store to grab some breakfast. Being the only kind of banana available I bought a small, individually wrapped one and brought it to school. As soon as I reached my desk "How cute!" were the first words I heard from the young teacher sitting across from me. Before she spoke those words of my mini-banana I had never in my life thought that fruit could be cute.

The word for cute in Japanese is 'kawaii.' Hearing so many students and particularly young girls say the word since I'v been here, I kind of figured it was a newer word. But, recently I asked my Japanese relative Koki about it and he told me it's actually an older word, as he recalls his parents and their generation using it (Koki is 37). But, he said, back in the day it was applied only to 'truly' cute things like babies, or puppies. Nowadays, he says, for young people, anything is cute. Older people get angry, he said, because the word is used so loosely now. I think my small banana wouldn't have looked so cute to the older generation, at least not enough to be described as 'kawaii.'

I have momentarily run out of things to say so I am forced to bring up the weather. About 2 weeks ago it snowed around here enough to pile up a tiny bit. The first 2 pictures I took from my apartment early in the morning after a night of falling snow. The mountain in the background is called Mt. Sarakura, or Sarakurayama. The next 3 photos are from what looks like a railway company poster, which hangs prominently in the halls of a local busy train station. These kinds of posters are often tacked up inside the trains as well.

Beeches and Peemps

A short conversation I had with a 9th grader (san-nensei) student yesterday. This student listens to a lot of hip-hop, which is probably where he heard these words.

Student (to his friend): Hey, beech.
Student (to me): Beech to iu kotoba, otoko no kotoba aru?
Me: Sore wa warui koto.
Student: Nani?
Me: Boku wa hanashite wa ikenai.
Student: Ah, wakatta. Demo beech wa do iu imi?
Me: Beech wa honto ni onna no inu to iu tango desu.
Student: Mesu?
Me: So so.
Student: Peemp wa do iu imi?
Me: Peemp wa onna o katte iru janakute. Peemp wa onna no bosu.
Student: Shacho?
Me: Shacho janai. Minna hataraite iru. Demo kaisha ga nai.

Student (to his friend): Hey bitch.
Student (to me): Is there a word like 'bitch' for men?
Me: That's a bad word.
Student: What do you mean?
Me: I'm not allowed to say it.
Student: Got it. What does bitch mean anyway?
Me: Bitch literally means a girl dog.
Student: A female animal?
Me: Yeah.
Student: What does 'pimp' mean?
Me: Not a guy who owns girls but... a few girls' boss.
Student: Like a CEO?
Me: Not like a CEO. Everyone works, but there's no company.

(At this point I had to get ready for a class so I left).

Winter Vacation (Fuyu Yasumi)

I'm just gonna sum it up like this- yokatta! This versatile word literally means 'it was good.' But if I had to make a short sentence in Japanese to describe my winter vacation I'd probably say 'boku no fuyuyasumi wa totemo tanoshikatta yo' or 'I really enjoyed my winter vacation, yo'. To start with, I wasn't alone in my apartment all day on Christmas. I took the bullet train (shinkansen) that day and met up with my relative in Yokohama. Overall, I spent 11 days in and around Tokyo and was able to met up with my Japanese relatives and American girlfriend, who I hadn't seen for 4 months. We went lots of new places, saw lots of new things and ate a lot of good food; every single day was full and enriching.

Please check out the pictures above if you haven't already.