loveletter

It is Saturday afternoon and I've been at work since 8:20 am. Today is "PTA Day," which means parents can come and view their children in action. I had two classes today, one first year JHS and one second year, but only the latter was an "open class." It seemed to go alright, though I groaned inwardly when I was told which second year class it would be: of course it was one of my least favorite. With small exception the kids are bored and look at me with disdain, and the class is remarkably devoid of personal allies. All that said, it went okay, and even if the parents had hated it I am not sure if there would have been any repercussions in my direction. The beauty of a temporary job.

And that is kind of what has me feeling like I need to lay down an entry right now, a time that would be otherwise occupied with my elementary kanji study. While we were packing up after the second year lesson, I asked my teacher if there was anything else I needed to do today. He had told me earlier in the day there would be meetings after the open class, but I wasn't sure if it was expected that I would attend those (fast-spoken Japanese) meetings. Obviously I kind of didn't feel there was a point to, but sometimes I am taken to things for looks, apparently. Anyhow, he replied that no, I didn't have to go, but that when we had one of these days again in April I'd have to make a speech. I kind of uhh-ed for a few seconds before saying, "Ah, but I won't be here in April. My contract goes until the end of March." This was met with first surprise and then skepticism, so I reaffirmed this fact a few more times, before my teacher decided I must be confused. He then calmly informed me that the Japanese system goes from April to September, implying that it was in September I would be leaving. I agreed that this was the case for the girl I replaced, but she was a part of the government-sponsored JET program, and I am just an employee of a company. I iterated that there were many differences between the positions, and I REALLY wanted to make some pointed comment about how much more money one makes through JET, and that if I was receiving that salary I might consider extending my contract. But I didn't, and apologized that he didn't know, even though I didn't feel like I should have to, as this is business that the Board of Education should be responsible for informing people of, not me. Anyhow, he was obviously really shocked, and I felt bad, for a number of reasons.

Some days are really fantastic. I feel like I am making friends with a lot of the kids, and starting to make an impact. I get that excited feeling that comes from living in a new place, where you are experiencing things that so many people from where I am from don't have the opportunity to. These are the days I kind of wish I was going to stay, so that I could actually get to know students enough to make a real impact, and have the shyer ones come around, and to chip away at the ice covering most desks in the teacher's room. And if I stayed I would maybe put more time to learning Japanese and kanji, and I could say I lived in Japan for that much longer... but these days are not the ones that usually fill my week.

Some days are really terrible. I feel like an alien in the teacher's room, where I can tell sometimes people are talking about me like I can't understand them. Even if I don't know every word (or, admittedly, even most of the words), I still know when you are saying something about me. I simply cannot stand when someone sits there and talks about you and then doesn't have the courtesy to fill you in. Just because I am the one in this position doesn't mean this is the first time it has bothered me, either. And just because I can't answer questions that alway catch me unprepared, presented in Japanese that doesn't appear to be dumbed down at all so that a beginner could comprehend, doesn't mean I don't know ANY, and I could really do without the thinly veiled disdain.

Some days are really terrible. Elementary kids scream in my ears and when I look to the teacher for help they suddenly remember how much focus it takes to gaze out the window. Junior high kids can be just as loud, but instead of excited energy it is disdain for English and school and anyone connected to either. These days it feels impossible to get my meaning across to the teachers I am supposed to be team teaching with, and I feel all the Mr. Holland's Opus Teacher Pride seeping right out of my indoor shoes. The only thing that gets me through these days is knowing there will be an end to it.

In between these days are kind of the normal ones, where I might feel both the fantastic-day and the terrible-day feelings, often an hour apart from one another. At the end of these days I still can't really shake myself from the knowledge that the system is flawed, and unless I storm the castle with textbook reforms it won't change. I also rarely forget how coming into this position unprepared with people expecting me to have teaching experience is pretty ridiculous.

There are tons of gaijin (foreigners) in Japan who have been obsessed with manga and anime since they were ten and wanted a Japanese girlfriend since they were 13. Obviously this works out for at least some of them, as the Japanese-foreigner couples you see are often highly mismatched in at least Western terms of attractiveness. Many ex-pats here studied or even majored in Japanese in college, where they must have spent hours upon hours pouring over kanji dictionaries. That I do not really envy, though that would have helped me considerably now (and, arguably, I had my own version of that... just the alphabet was still the Latin one). All of this is to say that though Japan is probably the most unique place I have ever visited and definitely the most different place I have ever lived, the relationship I have with it sometimes feels the same as the relationship my school has with me. We both take what we need, and try to forget about the rest.

I continue this entry as I don't want to end on such a sour note. I wouldn't say that I am not happy, and I have had some experiences so surreal and other worldly that they cancel out a number of the terrible days. I know I am privileged to be here, because they certainly aren't seeking out the French, Brazilians or Congolese for their native language abilities (even if they do get around paying you a decent salary by labeling you "part time employment"). I really hope I can continue forming friendships with people here, and that at least some of them will continue when I return to the States. I continue to grapple with the age-old difficulty of taking life one day at a time, something that I really first felt strongly during my year in Germany. When you know the days in a certain environment are numbered, sometimes you lose the will to make each of those days remarkable, because you think, well, its all going to go away soon enough anyway. Maybe this defeatism is stronger in me than you, but I do realize the importance to think the opposite, especially as we approach 2008. Year of the Rat (or here, the mouse)... for the second time in my life.


EDIT: During the open class today I did get one "sensei kawaii!" from one of the mothers standing in the back of the classroom. I realize this is meaningless to you.