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I guess you can tell my weekly priorities based on my blog themes, eh?
I was tooling around late at school one night during winter vacation. The only people obligated to be there were me and the Vice Principal, everyone else was allowed to take "home study." Still, there was a teacher or two and one was staying particularly late. When he told me that it was silly for me to stay any later, I asked him why he was still here and it launched into a conversation. Apparently he advises the brass band and there was going to be a great big joint concert between them and another school, and when I expressed interest he gave me a ticket.
I'm glad I'm at the point in my life where going places alone doesn't scare me, and I'm glad that I'm at the point in my Japan adjustment that you can give me pretty much any destination short of the middle of the ocean and I can figure out how to get there.
So last Saturday the concert happened and I navigated my way to the Culture Center on the other side of town. It's funny using trains, especially to unpopular destinations, because for about an hour before a special event, the level of crowdedness increases and you can pretty much assume everyone on the train is going to that event. And so it was with the concert.
It was really funny seeing the students in the audience wearing street clothes - with the exception of a handful of students I went to karaoke with last summer for International Club, I hadn't seen a single on in street clothes in 6 months! They even wear their uniforms on weekends and late at night. That's not the case for all Japanese High Schoolers, but in a school as serious as mine, not only are they always studying and at school (where they are required to wear uniforms at all times, no matter when or why they're there) but they're damn proud to wear them. Wearing a high school uniform is a mark of impending adulthood, wearing a prestigious school uniform is a badge of honor, and in general, even adults in Japanese society sport uniforms now and again because in Japanese culture it's much more valued to be a part of the group than it is to look fashionable.
And speaking of Japanese culture - going to this event really helped me break a barrier. I didn't talk to too many people, the set-up of the concert didn't lend itself to that, but of course (as the only non-Japanese) I was noticed and my presence was appreciated. Yet perhaps even more of a success was how it made me feel. Japanese culture is largely tied to putting up a blank front. There is 0 feedback in many of my daily activities, which as an "emotional American" drives me nuts. I have a really hard time relating to people when they never express an opinion, never make a face, and never share anything about themselves. You can imagine the cultural and pedogogical problems I have in class, let alone my personal life. Anyway, the concert was very different.
Japanese culture puts up the wall because it expresses self-control and a consideration for others - a noble cause, but different to my methodology. When they put on a show, however, that solidarity and attention to detail expresses itself in magnificent ways. The concert was very UW Marching Band-esque. The show was incredibly dynamic, and of course, whenever the students had to yell something or dance around they had absolutely no problem with it. Everyone was confident, in perfect form, and enthusiastic. EVERYONE was doing it, so NO ONE faltered. In my opinion, this is the highest form of success that can be achieved in a communal culture. To get this kind of energy out of a group of Americans, let alone high school aged Americans, requires extreme dedication and motivation. I feel like in a culture like Japan's, all it really requires is an initial sense of obligation and then the fun follows naturally. I hope my saying that doesn't devalue their efforts, because my message is that it may start in a dubious clone-like place but ultimately as a result it's capable of going much further than any other mentality.
So yes, I learned something about Japanese culture and the benefits of communalism, but I was also able to finally put a human face on about 100 students and their families. When you see people yelling and dancing and lit up with life, it's very difficult not to see their humanity. I felt a large burden of disconnect wash away while I watched my students drop their instruments, don tinsel headbands and animal ears, form a conga line, and start singing "Samba Bear."
Sitting in that music hall I forgot I was a stranger in a strange land. I wasn't just an American fly on the wall of Japanese life, like how I usually feel. I felt like a teacher, a community member of the City by the Sea, a student of Japanese, a capable listener whose language skills weren't overtaxed, and a real person. I guess the cliches are right, music really does bring the world together. And to think, in the U.S. music programs are usually the first to be cut from school.
I was tooling around late at school one night during winter vacation. The only people obligated to be there were me and the Vice Principal, everyone else was allowed to take "home study." Still, there was a teacher or two and one was staying particularly late. When he told me that it was silly for me to stay any later, I asked him why he was still here and it launched into a conversation. Apparently he advises the brass band and there was going to be a great big joint concert between them and another school, and when I expressed interest he gave me a ticket.
I'm glad I'm at the point in my life where going places alone doesn't scare me, and I'm glad that I'm at the point in my Japan adjustment that you can give me pretty much any destination short of the middle of the ocean and I can figure out how to get there.
So last Saturday the concert happened and I navigated my way to the Culture Center on the other side of town. It's funny using trains, especially to unpopular destinations, because for about an hour before a special event, the level of crowdedness increases and you can pretty much assume everyone on the train is going to that event. And so it was with the concert.
It was really funny seeing the students in the audience wearing street clothes - with the exception of a handful of students I went to karaoke with last summer for International Club, I hadn't seen a single on in street clothes in 6 months! They even wear their uniforms on weekends and late at night. That's not the case for all Japanese High Schoolers, but in a school as serious as mine, not only are they always studying and at school (where they are required to wear uniforms at all times, no matter when or why they're there) but they're damn proud to wear them. Wearing a high school uniform is a mark of impending adulthood, wearing a prestigious school uniform is a badge of honor, and in general, even adults in Japanese society sport uniforms now and again because in Japanese culture it's much more valued to be a part of the group than it is to look fashionable.
And speaking of Japanese culture - going to this event really helped me break a barrier. I didn't talk to too many people, the set-up of the concert didn't lend itself to that, but of course (as the only non-Japanese) I was noticed and my presence was appreciated. Yet perhaps even more of a success was how it made me feel. Japanese culture is largely tied to putting up a blank front. There is 0 feedback in many of my daily activities, which as an "emotional American" drives me nuts. I have a really hard time relating to people when they never express an opinion, never make a face, and never share anything about themselves. You can imagine the cultural and pedogogical problems I have in class, let alone my personal life. Anyway, the concert was very different.
Japanese culture puts up the wall because it expresses self-control and a consideration for others - a noble cause, but different to my methodology. When they put on a show, however, that solidarity and attention to detail expresses itself in magnificent ways. The concert was very UW Marching Band-esque. The show was incredibly dynamic, and of course, whenever the students had to yell something or dance around they had absolutely no problem with it. Everyone was confident, in perfect form, and enthusiastic. EVERYONE was doing it, so NO ONE faltered. In my opinion, this is the highest form of success that can be achieved in a communal culture. To get this kind of energy out of a group of Americans, let alone high school aged Americans, requires extreme dedication and motivation. I feel like in a culture like Japan's, all it really requires is an initial sense of obligation and then the fun follows naturally. I hope my saying that doesn't devalue their efforts, because my message is that it may start in a dubious clone-like place but ultimately as a result it's capable of going much further than any other mentality.
So yes, I learned something about Japanese culture and the benefits of communalism, but I was also able to finally put a human face on about 100 students and their families. When you see people yelling and dancing and lit up with life, it's very difficult not to see their humanity. I felt a large burden of disconnect wash away while I watched my students drop their instruments, don tinsel headbands and animal ears, form a conga line, and start singing "Samba Bear."
Sitting in that music hall I forgot I was a stranger in a strange land. I wasn't just an American fly on the wall of Japanese life, like how I usually feel. I felt like a teacher, a community member of the City by the Sea, a student of Japanese, a capable listener whose language skills weren't overtaxed, and a real person. I guess the cliches are right, music really does bring the world together. And to think, in the U.S. music programs are usually the first to be cut from school.
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