生徒たち - Students

It’s hard to believe I haven’t written an entry exclusively about my students yet. I guess that’s because at first, it seemed like there was too much to cover, and later, they became just another part of my daily routine. As harsh as it sounds, as a whole, they became a little boring and predictable. Not individually, but collectively. After a full day trying my hardest to bond and connect with Japanese teenagers, the last thing I wanted was to go home and think more about them. But recently, I’ve gotten more resilient to the trials and tribulations of being an ALT in Japan, so I’ve felt compelled to get a few words down about the kids I’ve been sharing the joys of English with.

To set the scene, I teach 11 classes a week, for 1st, 2nd and 3rd graders in senior high school (that’s 10th, 11th, 12th grade; ie. 15-18 years old). I teach about 120 first years, 120 second years, and 20 third years. So needless to say, I don’t exactly know each of them by name… which is shame, but almost impossible to accomplish, short of making them wear nametags all day (like elementary school kids). Remembering names is even more difficult than usual for me because they are all Japanese, and while they sometimes want to be called by their first names, usually teachers address them by their family name. So I would effectively have to learn two names for each student in order to keep on top of things (500 names). But I do what I can, and I do know a lot of kids’ names.

On top of those issues, I don’t see each student all that often. Most first and second years I only see once every two weeks, at the most. That’s assuming the school schedule isn’t interrupted by Sports Day, tests, assembly or work experience. There are a couple of classes that are doing a special English course, so I see them twice a week.

The Bad

About a year ago, I described how my students seemed pretty ‘catatonic’ in class, but now, after more than a year of teaching, I’m totally used to this. I know the best techniques for eliciting responses from them, and I no longer feel uncomfortable standing in front of 40 pairs of eyes (only half of which are open) and 20 blank faces. And I now understand why they’re like this- it’s pretty much the ‘ideal’ classroom environment. They are supposed to be like sponges, absorbing information. Questioning, being critical, and offering opinions are not considered important in the Japanese education system, and are even looked on as delinquent behavior.

I won’t embark on an exposition of everything wrong with the Japanese education system. But I will say that I feel sorry for the kids I teach. In fact, in some respects, there is a lot to pity about being Japanese. By valuing perseverance and duty to the extreme, this society pushes people to their limits. It seems like the majority of students and teachers are seriously sleep deprived, and that it’s the norm, rather than the exception, for people to hate what they do in their day to day life. Yet they do it anyway, because they know no other way.

This became painfully obvious the other day when I gave my second year students (16 year olds) an “About You” worksheet to complete. They had to finish six sentences: “I like…”, “I hate…”, “I always…”, “I’ve never…”, “I’m scared of…”, “I’m looking forward to…”.
Two boys (in a class of 20) answered the following:

I hate rugby.
I always play rugby.

I hate baseball.
I always play baseball.

Another kid wanted to finish the sentence “I’m scared of…” with the English word for 人生. I didn’t know what it meant until after class, when I looked it up. It means ‘life’, or ‘human existence’.

In the case of my students, school is their life. But it doesn’t merely encompass study and homework. In fact, club activities are taken just as seriously, if not more so, than schoolwork. In the most extreme cases, a student will get up at 5am, do their club activity (e.g. soccer), go to classes from 8:30 to 3pm, do more club activities until 6, go to juku (cram school), and get home around 10 or 11pm. Day after day. Weekends and vacation periods are also often taken up with their club activity. There are plenty of kids who don’t belong to a club, some of whom dedicate all their free time to studying. And then there are others who don’t have a club and don’t study, either. But such ‘lack of motivation’ definitely isn’t encouraged in Japan, and these kids seem to have other problems (family, personal) that have led them to be in this state.

Basic psychology says that people don’t do anything without some kind of reward, on some level. So pushing yourself to the extreme does pay off in some way, if only to reassure yourself that you’re ‘doing the right thing’. This, to me, seems to be at the heart of why so many people in Japan live what could be described as ‘lives of quiet desperation’. I’m not saying people here don’t ever enjoy themselves, but from my perspective, it seems that when faced with the choice of doing what they want, or doing what they should do, most Japanese would choose the latter. Perseverance is valued above all else. Of course, there is much to be admired about this, but day-to-day, I tend to see the negative results of this, in the sheer exhaustion of students.

The kids also seem to suffer from a huge lack of confidence, by Western standards, anyway. In places like Australia and the US, we’re used to hearing the old “You can do anything!” spiel. As cheesy and clichéd as this seems, it IS a big part of the Western outlook these days. I think it does sink in for most kids, who (barring any conflicting messages from parents) hear it throughout their 13 years of education. Another key message is “Be yourself!”. But these aren’t a given in Japan. In fact, a famous Japanese saying is “The nail that sticks out gets hammered down”. My students are terrified of taking risks, for fear of making mistakes. Even if that risk is answering a simple “Yes” or “No” question in English class. Or writing an answer in pen, which is permanent, rather than pencil, which they can erase.

So these are some of the negative aspects of my students. I won't go into experiences I've had with kids acting out in class - that's another story...
But overall, the good outweighs the bad, so I'll get to "The Good" next time.