Spring is in the air, and change is ever present. Temperatures are a bit warmer in the mornings, and the chill doesn’t have the same bite that it used to have. Blossoms are arriving in strong numbers, and the new school year is about to start. I can see now why the Japanese start their school year in the beginning of April. Life is new and fresh after the harsh winter; a perfect time for a new beginning. But before we can start, we had to officially close the previous school year. Like all schools, we had a formal graduation ceremony. But unlike my high school graduation which was filled with happiness and laughter while the crowd boasted shouts of encouragement, my Japanese school’s ceremony felt like a funeral. Everyone was somber and serious, and it felt like life was ending rather than standing on the precipice of something new and amazing. The music was a slow waltz with a twist of melancholy. Homerooms stood up and accepted the principal’s congratulations while he read from the officially sealed envelope that looks like it has had more than one day of use. Teachers gave short speeches. The crowd’s face was overwhelmingly female. I guess the dads had to go into the office. Finally, with another slow waltz playing, the graduated students marched out of the icy cool gym on the new road before them. I stood up and thought, “Damn that was depressing.” But once outside, they were smiling and happy as...well...school kids. Students aren’t the only ones leaving schools bound for a road of change. Every year teachers around the world also leave the schools they call home. Whether they retire or move to a different town, it’s just the way of things. In Japan moving happens more so than anywhere I have been in the world. You see, teachers here are viewed as public servants, and as so they are required to move around and serve at different schools throughout their career. The most a teacher can stay at one school is eight years. Some teachers in high school are here on exchange from a junior high school, and can only stay three years. The youngest teachers move every three or five years because they have the least seniority. Japan has different levels of high school, and as a teacher, you must serve at all different levels and geographical locations. Some schools are labeled “urban” and some “rural”. If you happen to go to a high level academic school, you know the kids will be well behaved. Too much is riding on passing the entrance exam to university to goof off. Every second of studying really does count. That’s why you’ll see kids huffing it to school on Saturday and Sunday. You can’t say that for an agricultural school. These schools are usually out in the middle of nowhere and the student base is a little more rambunctious. But hey, what have they got to lose? Most of them will farm crops, be a laborer, or some other inefficient government employee. Teachers want to go to some schools more than others, but sooner or later, every teacher will work in every level of high school. This year my English department lost two very good teachers. One named Katano-sensei sat next to me. He was an excellent teacher who continued to learn every day. He was very genki (energetic), and I was sad to see him go. The other teacher was Nita-sensei, who helped guide our third year students to do their very best on the university exams. They were part of the teachers we honored at our enkai (party). An enkai is a major drinking party. This party officially closed the year (But the year never really stops. Kids just keep coming to school and teachers keep giving supplemental lessons). And all this involves long speeches in formal and informal settings. How’s that saying go? “Some people would rather die than speak in front of a large public audience.” What a shock. But sometimes it really does feel as though we are about to die when we approach a pulpit; our heart races, and all of our thoughts are so jumbled that we can’t even reason an intelligible sentence. But through this adversity, people show their true colors, and different traits reveal themselves. We get to see a speaker’s personality that was once hidden from us. We get to see emotions and a side that we have never seen. And these small nuances, ticks, laughs, and jokes can make us love or hate the person all the more. Nita-sensei was a delightful surprise. You see, when Nita-sensei comes in and shuts the door, you know it is her. The sliding door slams with a bang that reverberates through the office. As your head aches from the thud and the one too many beers you had the night before, you think to yourself, “Who the hell did that.” You turn your head over to get a view of the culprit, and you see her striding with that bulldog expression on her face. In that instance, you know she is not a woman to be reckoned with. Truth be told, I have always been a bit intimidated by Nita-sensei. Whenever she asks me, “Toddo, can you help me with something?” I always answer yes. And so I was delightfully surprised when at the farewell party, she welled up and couldn’t speak for several moments because she was straining to keep back the tears. Here she was at her very core. It is not so often that you get to see Japanese people show their true emotions. As her lip quivered and tears started to roll down her cheeks, my heart opened up to this woman whom had been guarded and intimidating all year long. You could tell in that moment that she had given her all and really cared about the school, the kids, and us as co-workers. And for that, I really admired her. Nobody likes change except a baby with a wet diaper. I have liked that saying ever since I heard it, and it’s pretty damn true. When I learned that my teachers were leaving the office I was pretty bummed out. I didn’t want to get to know new teachers. I didn’t want to go through the pains of having to explain where I am from and the weather in my town. I didn’t want to have to learn their teaching style. But now that change is here, I am really happy with it. Our two new teachers are very nice. Ori-sensei sits next to me and is a great addition. She lived in the U.S. for two years attending junior college and speaks English well. Hara-sensei is pretty mild mannered and quiet, but a good guy nonetheless. I am looking forward to teaching with both of them, and the new year as well. Once again I have to remind myself to bend, adapt, and be more flexible. Sometimes the things we don’t want to happen are truly the best things that can happen. I hope everyone is staying limber for whatever lies ahead in your future. All the best and much love. Your son, brother, and friend. Todd |
