The Culture Gaps
...written on 2001-02-09, @ 15:28:38
Tales of Kim's Life in Japan
Fri February 9, 2001
"Hisashiburi", (Long time, no see) I said to the teachers in the Godo branch as I sidled my way into the narrow office with my big bag of teaching supplies. The Japanese looked up, smiled briefly and then bent their heads back down to their work.
This curt reply was nothing to be offended by, so I continued with an "O-genki desuka?" (Everyone ok?)
Johnny, the Godo branch boss, said he was extremely tired. I inquired why. He started to say something about being drunk and I thought he meant that he was so tired he felt drunk, but he continued on to say that he had been drinking sake every night. Why? I asked.
"Stress.", he said.
I asked him if he was worried about the students and their being able to pass the upcoming high school entrance exams and he said no. I asked again what he was so stressed about.
"Parents." he said.
You see, all 9th graders in Japan are sweating right now. Their parents (mostly mothers) are making urgent visits to the public schools and the jukus (cram schools) to be sure that their children will pass the entrance exam and be able to attend the high school of their choice.
In Japan, what high school you attend depends on the score you get on the entrance exams, not on where you live. If you can get into the best high school, then your chances of attending a prestigious university are better, and if you get into a prestigious university, your chances of getting a job with a prestigious employer increase as well.
What does all this mean? It means that at the tender young age of 14 or 15, after already two or three years of late night studying in preparation, Japanese students are faced with a life changing event: a High School entrance exam that will determine the path of the rest of their adolescent and adult lives. If you ask any Japanese jr high school student what their dream is, they will know what they want to do and where they have to go to school to get it.
They know because their mothers have hammered it into them. Johnny's fear of the "Kyoiku Mama" or "Education Mother", the Japanese equivalent of a "Stage Mother", was palpable. I had just peered into the conference room where he was meeting with one such mother. His back was rigid, his hands rested on the tops of his legs, and his head was inclined ever so slightly forward to suggest a bow of deference. The "Kyoiku Mama" also sat straight up, her hands in her lap, her lips pursed tight with her eyes cast down, which was by no means a display of weakness, but rather a silent command that Johnny ensure her child's success.
"What do you say to the parents if their child fails?" I asked Johnny.
"I say I'm sorry." he replied.
Yesterday in Akasaka I had written the word "Mother" on the large white erase board in the office. I asked the oldest teacher there to play charades with me and to mime what "Mother" meant to him. He did so. A student then came into the office and I asked him to do it as well. They both did the same thing; they wagged their fingers and in a crabby voice said "Study, study, study." The teacher laughed at the common shared experience with his student. I then asked the student to do the same with "Father" and he barked out the words "gohan" (rice or food) and "furo" (bath), no doubt commands issued at night to the "kyoiku mama" when the tired "salaryman" arrived home from work.
Culture, culture, culture.
I was talking to Fred about the American teacher employment contract and the employee handbook. Now, after having 4 American teachers at once in a little room with a window, our own little company fishbowl, I was hearing a growing list of do's and don'ts. I shook my head and smiled. The culture gap is widening and it will be my job to straddle it.