(Peaches & Herb, Brenda & the Tabulations, Brenton Wood)
...but just now my fear was confirmed.
http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/profile.php?id=2509359&hiq=ryan%2Cbeckman
is the ALT to take over after I leave. This is the person who is going to be teaching the precious little 1st and 2nd graders who swamped me for signatures for half an hour today after our last lesson and lunch together; the man with whom all the teachers I've come to love and love working with are going to have to work with for the next year; the privileged dick who's going to move straight into my apartment which I earned and with which I came to bond through months of depression, standing up for myself against massive institutional pressure, and pulling myself by my own determination into the light of a normalized, happy life.
And he's the guy to whom I'm going to have to show the ropes and welcome (formally).
After three years spent with a Black woman from Jamaica and one year with a young Chicano guy from the U.S., my town is going to be going back to the English teacher order of the day - another white male.
I'd recently come to terms with Japan's love for white people, and actually stopped thinking about it pretty much completely as I became happier myself (let's you know it's not really a healthy fixation, I suppose). After all, to put not too fine a point on it, "it's their country." If Japanese men want to fall over themselves to impress a blonde-haired white woman, and if Japanese women are going to lose their minds over the first cocky, muscle-bound white man they see, it's not my problem. Yes, it plays into the order of white supremacy enforced across the world by racist media. But how much can I really do about that by getting frustrated and holding it in (or complaining about it to my friends and family, who may or may not understand)?
But, when I think of this guy in charge, not just of the English education, but a portion of the time, emotions, and energy of the kids and adults with whom I've become so close over the past year, I can't help but be frustrated. After all, these people didn't ask for some arrogant white American to come in and grace their town with his presence. This was decided by JET recruiters in L.A. along with the endless number of bureaucrats I'm sure the Japanese government managed to throw at the process. As far as I can see, the teachers in this town don't care what color a person's skin is, how old they are, or anything else, as long as they can work with them and do their job the best they can together.
Of course, this is not to say that when this guy gets here all the middle schoolers and young teachers aren't gonna instantly fall in love with this tall, muscular, cocky American with pale skin. But once again, I try to think, "That's their problem, let them deal with it. I can't change things by my indignance alone, nor by telling people they should think like I tell them."
One thing is for sure - the other wealthy, white ALTs in my town are gonna love having a new person with whom to get drunk (or be drunks) instead of this quiet Latino guy (
why do they have to be so sensitive about race all the time we're in japan can't he just relax), who doesn't get the same enjoyment as them out of playing Never Have I Ever over 12-packs and Boston and group-complaining sessions the next day about how they got a noise complaint from the neighbors.
~
On another note, I was struck by a huge difference between Japanese and U.S. culture when I decided to ask my town's board of education to please allow me to stay another year, even though I had chosen back in February not to recontract. Of course, my approach was humble, aware of how much what I was asking would inconvenience them. But besides that, my assumption was that the only "Japanese twist" on the process would be being additionally apologetic and bowing more.
Indeed, I was surprised to find out that I had to have my principal ask the board of education for me. So, the process actually went: I talk with an elementary school teacher who I trust, she calls up my principal and tells him the situation as he stands in the middle of the staff room with everyone around, he waits until the next day then tells me it's probably impossible because they've already chosen the next guy, and then hopefully asks the board of education after that.
I'm reminded again, painfully, of the different conceptions of invidual responsibility and privacy here. I had assumed, when I started this idea, that if I were to ask the board of education, all the teachers I work with, who love me and are endlessly thankful that I can speak Japanese with them, would call up as well and express their wish that I could stay. That would, I think, be how things would play out in the U.S. From there, the board of education would probably even consider the emotional reasons for me wanting to stay suddenly and for the other teachers wanting me to stay. But not here, in Japan. Here, I am a statistic. I am a variable, a resource, for which they have already found a suitable replacement and spent some of their other resources to find. And individual teachers pleading their case would make no difference, even if they did think to do it most likely, because it doesn't matter how many people say it, the situation is still a matter of following the rules vs. being flexible with the rules, or following order and schedule or improvising a bit of order and schedule.
Truly, without the emotional aspect, I can't see them reconsidering. It would obviously be better for the teachers with whom I work (Boards of education and schools rehire English teachers usually no matter how terrible they are. My downfall, I think, will be not in my performance, but in that I'm acting outside the preset guidelines). We've come to know how each other works, to become friends, and to have great working chemistry. I've fully acclimated to living in Japan and am situated to live another long period of time from here on out in a happy way. The kids at all my schools, from pre-school to middle school, have come to be comfortable around me, asking me questions in and out of class, playing with me on the playground, having me pick them up and spin them around, talking to me about how their post-middle school life is going at the high school in the city over, getting me to say funny Japanese phrases, and just saying hey as we pass each other casually in the hall. (The last one is probably what has made me the happiest and happened most recently.). All these things make for good teacher-student relationships and an optimum teaching environment.
But all these things don't show up in statistics, especially when English isn't even a strict subject before middle school. And as long as middle schoolers are doing well enough on their English exams to not be failing high school entrance exams, the board of education doesn't have much concern. It does not cost them any money if the ALT is grappling with the depths of depression. Nor do they see any financial repurcussions in the endless struggle for communication between Japanese English teachers who cannot speak English and English-speakers working in Japan who cannot speak Japanese. If the personal relationship between the teachers and ALT in their city is that much less deep because they can't talk to each other, it doesn't show up in the annual expenditure report. On the contrary, the transition from one ALT to another went by with maximum smoothness and adherence to the pre-planned schedule.
~
Despite how I might sound, I'm not actually that bitter. I'm very excited, not so much for what's coming next, but what I'm going to go after next. I've got a plan now, thanks to my own decisions and the gracious advice of some wonderful professors. The emotions in which I find myself now are quite complex and I don't think I've actually ever felt them before. Because I don't think I would have come to love my job with such a passion so quickly had I not decided to limit myself to one year here and thought, "Okay, well there's no more time for moping around now, just get out there and live every moment of your work and life here. Leave an impression, on yourself and them." And at the same time, I don't feel like my attempt to stay was the result of indecision or panic; rather, I realized my emotional and mental state, so situated and happy here, as well as the people around me's desire to continue working with me, and felt it was worth it to try to stay here longer. The most peculiar thing about this is when I think about the two possibilities for the future, staying here or going back, I feel really excited, and a little sad, about both. I feel like no matter what happens, I now have a goal and something to go for, wherever I may find/place myself. In that sense, I am looking forward to whatever happens, though I also grow sad at the idea of leaving what doesn't.
There are so many possibilities for the future, though. So many of them I had not realized until today. The rate at which ideas are coming into my head for the first time (or at least that I've noticed), is incredible. So maybe I'll just trust in myself, in the judgement I have deep within myself. After all, I chose, with an incredible amount of passion and thought which I'd never felt before, both of the two life-changing possibilities that've hovered over me these past couple of days, and now find myself in a strange win-win situation. I can do well.
If there's one thing I've come to learn over this past year, it's the importance of living in touch with your own heart and the things "you just feel." My feelings truly have taken me through a flow of life, more gently and fulfillingly when I follow them willingly. I am a little afraid to lose this sense. But I'm going to do what I can to keep living and growing this way.
