All the way from Akune: Back to School

Hello All

School has begun. My life changed last Thursday. I no longer have a desk job. Now I have a conduct-a-room-full-of-shy-yet-eager-students-sitting-at-desks job. In other words, I am thrilled to not be sitting at my desk for eight hours straight in the fluorescent-lit city office, day in and day out. Needless to say, I did appreciate the time that I spent at the city office. I was able to keep in touch with family and friends until I set up my internet connection at home, I had the opportunity to become familiar with my coworkers at the board of education and I cannot complain about the air-conditioned office. Now that school has started, I only spend the last hour of my day at the office, chatting with colleagues about my classes and students and staying up to date with the few blogs that I now read (thanks Laura).

Before checking in at the city office this past Thursday I had my very first day of class, or as many of my coworkers referred to as my ‘debut’. My debut outfit: a fresh, short-sleeve white shirt; a blue silk tie (thanks Dad); breathable black slacks; and to top it all off, slippers, provided by the school, roughly size 6. I soon realized, while shuffling around the halls as if I had ankle cuffs on, that my schools and my apartment by the water had a common theme: everything is small. I should have guessed from the start, because when I entered the school, ducking almost a foot down to avoid blasting my head on the doorframe. The principal notified me, after he chuckled at my doubling over to enter his office, that the Japanese architectural standards for most buildings, especially schools, dictate that all doors must have a 180cm clearance. I am 190cm. My tall stature, however inconvenient it may be for easy living in Japan, is very helpful in establishing a good first impression. Upon entering any building in Japan, whether it is my own house, the city office or my new schools, I inherently bow, thus showing respect. How nice of me. This has definitely been useful thus far.

My first class was with the fifth grade elementary students of Nishime elementary, which is about ten minutes south on route 3, the main highway that runs through Akune. As soon as I stepped into the faculty room I was greeted warmly with a bow and a cool cup of mugicha, barley tea. (Mugicha is a lifesaver in the summer and luckily all of my schools have a cooler of it at the ready in the faculty room; nothing rejuvenates one more than a cup of chilled barely tea and a cracker in between classes) There are less than ten fifth grade students at Nishime elementary, which made the classroom atmosphere very cozy and less intimidating, at least for me . After I had set up my powerpoint for my first presentation I turned around and was face-to-face with what I had been waiting for almost one year: a classroom of children, smiling, anxious to learn.

Nishime Elementary

I started the class with my jikoshokai, the fundamental first step of the getting-to-know-you phase of any relationship in Japan. A jikoshokai usual includes basic information about one's background, including your home country, home town, family, hobbies and the like. Presenting my jikoshokai was very exciting for me because the kids were on the edge of their seat the whole time. Whether it was in excitement or confusion, I could not quite tell. I brought along my computer with a simple powerpoint presentation. The kids really got a kick out of the picture I showed for my “I like hiking” slide. The picture is of me doing a handstand on the top of a mountain from when Laura and I climbed to the Third Peak of the Chief in British Columbia last spring. The classroom erupted with the sound of the typical Japanese expression of surprise or disbelief, ‘HuueeeeeEEEEH!’ (Mom, Dad, you know what I am talking about). So from this I took a cue and decided to do a headstand demonstration in everyone of my classes last week as a part of my jikoshokai, it really gets the blood flowing and the kids laughing. From my first class on Thursday at Nishime elementary, I proceeded over the next two days to Yamashita, Ozaki, Tashiro, Okawa and Tsurukawauchi Elementary schools, honing my jikoshokai skills and loving every second of it.

The kids were also a huge part of what I think was a very successful debut. Aside from being very attentive and good listeners, the children were very good participants. However apprehensive they may have seemed in their seats when they were called to come up to the front and introduce themselves to me, each child was beaming on the way back to their seats. They may not have even noticed themselves, but the students certainly showed a sense of pride in their stride on the way back to their miniscule desk. Before all of this happened though, they had to overcome their extreme sheepishness.

How can these children be so coy? All they need to do is say their name and if they do or do not like bananas, dogs, strawberries, baseball and shake my gargantuan hand. What’s so bad about that? This is what I was pondering after the teacher asked who wanted to introduce themselves to me. The room fell dead silent. All I could hear was the feeble whir of the electric fan, shuffling footsteps down the hallway and the eternal buzz of the cicada outside the open doors. I wondered and wondered, how can this be? I tried to put myself in the kids’ shoes (I was already in a size 6 so I was almost there). At that point I remembered what it was like, how it felt to step in front of the class and bear all with the weight of your class mates eyes sucking your lungs dry of air and emptying your brain. Failure. The most feared outcome of any academic endeavor in the world is undoubtedly failure. I had had a feeling that the potential for failure would haunt my students, but I did not expect it to start from day one. Luckily, though, after seeing the smiles on the kids faces and feeling the positive energy in the classroom I do not foresee the looming shadow of failure lingering for too much longer.

My first class this past Friday was at Tashiro elementary. I taught first period. When I arrived to the school, nestled in the middle of the mountains, surrounded by old houses and right next to a cool stream, I was greeted by the vice principal and the JTE (Japanese Teacher of English) who made me cup of hot instant coffee, just what I needed (?). The JTE told me that were were going to conduct in the gymnasium and that I would be giving my jikoshokai in front of the entire school. What an opportunity, right? I already knew before I came to Tashiro that morning that the student body wasn’t the biggest in all of Akune. In fact, I knew it was the absolute smallest. I stepped into the gym, only to be greeted with the brightest smiles I had ever seen, all nine students, right in row. After my introduction was over, the first, second and third grade students went back to their classrooms, leaving the JTE and me to teach the five remaining students. We practiced the months of the year, which I think are especially difficult for the children because the months are referred to simply with numbers in the Japanese. At the end of the day the kids were beginning to become comfortable with their own birthday months and that of their classmates, a fine accomplishment for my debut at Tashiro elementary.

When I got back from the gym to my desk in the Tashiro faculty room, the vice principal was busy preparing another cup up coffee for me, this time it was what I needed. He and I spoke for a while. He questioned me about what I think of the school, the teachers and then the students.
“The students really put on an air shyness that I have never seen before anywhere else”, I commented,” but I can definitely see, in each one of them, that they want to try their best. I think they are scared of making mistakes. I want to tell them it is ok to make mistakes and that it is the key to learning languages.”
“You know there is a saying in Japanese”, the vice principal added, “失敗は成功のもと, Failure is the root of success.”

As my admirable, bright and kind-hearted first grade teacher from Summit K-12 (for life) Tom Rawson used to say, “If you can’t make mistakes, you can’t make anything.”

Enjoy these pictures
(If you would like to see a bigger version of the pictures, just click on the image)

Dinner: Yakisoba, Kabocha, baby Bok Choy