Thursday, October 31, 2013

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Yesterday's lunchtime conversation in the teacher's room:

Kyoto-sensei: Oh, Sarah, it's too bad you have debates this weekend.  Are you staying overnight?
Me: Yes.
Kyoto-sensei: At the university?
Me: No, at a hotel across from the station.
Kyoto-sensei: Eh?  That's not that far from your house.
Home Ec Teacher (to Kyoto sensei): Why is she going to debate? To watch?
Kyoto-sensei (to me): Why are you going to debate? For support?
Me: To be a judge.
Home Ec Teacher (to Kyoto sensei): What?
Kyoto sensei: To be a what?
Me: To be a judge.  At the high school prefectural tournament.
All the teachers: (expressions of complete shock and awe, various incarnations of Wow uttered)
What I wanted to say: Yes, contrary to what you all believe, I do actually have a brain, and a moderate level of intelligence and a few useful skills besides parroting bad English textbook sentences in a ridiculously upbeat and ponderously slow voice.
What I actually said: (nothing)

So that's about the tone of this piece right there.  You wanna stop reading, douzo. I don't blame you.  I might stop reading myself.  That will explain everything that follows from here on out.

It's been a rough month or so at the good ole junior high of late.  I usually try and focus on the positive in this blog, and there is a positive side, I promise.  But you gotta see the cloud before you catch a glimpse of the silver lining... or something.

Wikipedia says this man is
 named Archibald.
Recently, I've been having some trouble with my Japanese English teaching partner, who we will call Archibald.  Actually, recently is incorrect.  Since I came to Japan, I have been having trouble with my Japanese English teaching partner... but because I try to adopt the Luke Skywalker mentality of seeing the good in bad people, I have been trying to convince myself for over a year that things really aren't that bad.  After today's events, I realize I am actually delusional and it's about time I snapped out of it... or I might be forced to self medicate with copious amounts of alcohol and desserts.

Many ALTs have different situations.  Some actually get to teach lessons (High school ALTs, I'm glaring murderously at you:).  Some get to plan lessons.  Some get to explain or introduce different concepts or games in class.  Some get to give greetings and do speaking practice.  Some get to help make tests.  Me--I do none of these things.  I never know what we are going to do in class until I walk into it.  If you are looking for me, you will find me in the back talking to the students who aren't paying attention anyway.  Sometimes, I"m even talking to them about English-related things.  Yay.

I knew this type of work situation was a possibility.  But what I didn't understand was the side effects of this type of position.  That is, everyone *knows* I have no actual purpose.  If I never came back to school, absolutely no one would be affected (except of course the students... but that's a different story). And now, I finally realize I'm being treated like someone who has no purpose.

If you note in the beginning conversation, not only were the teachers shocked that I could actually be of real use in a situation where what I do or do not do could have an impact, they also didn't talk directly to me.  They talked to Kyoto-sensei who then talked to me.  Mind you, this is all in Japanese--it's not like Kyoto sensei was translating.  There is a strong sense of "them" at my school... and no matter how hard I try, I am never a part of "them".  (editor's note: It's important for my inbox which will be full of rude comments that I make clear I don't think this situation is typical. I think it is unique to my school, as most people I know like their coworkers a great deal.  Thank you for your time.)

This is a Halloween cat for Archibald.
Compound this with the fact that my good buddy Archibald (my JTE, if you recall) never informs me of anything.  I walked in this morning to find written on the board that he had taken nenkyuu after notifying Kyoto sensei earlier that morning (i.e. he didn't feel like coming to work).  I received no notification of this, and still have yet to receive it.  It is one of our busiest days, with all classes, and it's Halloween and I'd planned something special (which of course he didn't know about, because we don't plan, remember?) This has happened at least 10 times previously, and every time I patiently sat down and explained to him that in America, when you are supposed to be teaching as a team (as we are) it is supremely rude and disrespectful to not inform your partner.  You can see how much of an impact this cultural exchange has made.

So, that brings me to second period hiding in the music room instrument closet trying to figure out how I am going to make it through winter when everyday things go further downhill. Then it hit me.  This is ridiculous.  Who am I?  The old me would never be hiding in an instrument closet.  The old me would say F you people who don't talk to me, F you people who are rude and disrespectful, F you trying to be Japanese.  I'm all for respecting cultural traditions, but you are still yourself... and that deserves respect too.

I marched back into the teacher's room and asked Kyoto sensei for a meeting with him next week to discuss the conditions of English class.  Will it do any good?  No.  But I know that I am being true to myself by sharing my point of view.  Then, I walked into the second and first grade hallway and yelled, "Does anyone know what day it is?"  Some of the students replied in Japanese, "October 31st".  I said "Yes, which means..." Finally, a student said, "Halloween!"  "Yes again!" I said.  "If you want candy, you can come trick or treating in the hallway outside the teacher's room during free time."  I turned on my heel and went upstairs to deliver the same message to the third grade students.

At the end of the day, I consider things a win.  Despite causing a ruckus (definitely frowned upon) I succeeded in teaching *every student* how to trick or treat--and they all went home with candy and a sticker to prove it.  I have a meeting with Kyoto sensei for next week, and I looked at international schools in America in case I decide I can't take it another year.  I haven't gained a thing by trying to act too Japanese... but I may have narrowly missed losing a part of myself.  I worked hard to be the person I was before I came to Japan, and while I expected that person to change... there are parts that are not up for negotiation.
Don't forget to give yourself a little love (and get your mind out of the gutter:).