Image from the film All About Lily Chou-Chou, a wrenching story about the fluidity of roles between bully and bullied |
Student A shows the teacher a long and ambitious sentence
with multiple clauses. The teacher finds a single misspelling and puts a huge
red cross through it. “What are you thinking?!” The teacher growls. “Pay
attention! Don’t bring this half-arsed rubbish to show me!”
Student B shows the teacher a sentence along the lines of “Me
likes anamal doG.” “Great!” The teacher gushes. “You worked so hard, you’re really starting to get good
at English!”
From an Australian point of view this seems like clear cut
favouritism; possibly even bullying. The thing is, in Japan, chances are student
A is the favourite and the teacher cares very little about advancing student B
academically. It takes a bit of getting used to, but the more critical a
teacher is of you, the more potential they generally seem to think you have. It
isn’t only a classroom thing, either. I noticed it in naginata too. An Australian friend of mine
withdrew from a Masters program in translation and interpretation after a year
of unrelenting criticism and negativity from his Japanese teacher wore down his
self-esteem and enthusiasm for the course. When the teacher found out he was
leaving she cried and said that he was her most promising students and she had
had high hopes for him. When he incredulously responded that he thought she had
hated him she was dumbfounded and seemed unable to understand why he would
think such a thing.
As with most things in Japanese schools, my feelings are
mixed. I think holding diverse children who are maturing at different speeds
and have differing levels of support at home to a single absolute standard is a
fundamentally flawed practice. As the saying goes, “If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will
spend its whole life believing that it I stupid.” For some children, simply putting pen to paper in another
language is a huge achievement. For others, writing long sentences comes
easily. I absolutely see the value in acknowledging each achievement by
weighing it against the child’s potential and not an abstract standard. But. It’s
me, so of course there is a but! It can easily turn into simply dismissing and
writing off some students. I’ve been told that two of my current junior high
third graders (grade nines) don’t need to d anything in class. At one school,
the JTE said that just getting out of bed and coming to school was a big
achievement for a certain girl. At another school the JTE said that quietly
reading comics during class was the highest goal for a specific boy (who had
been disruptive in the past). I am not questioning my teachers’ judgement here;
they have insights into the kids’ lives and understand them in a way that will
forever be beyond me. However, as long as I don’t pressure the kids I have been
allowed give them some individual attention and I know that with a bit of
support and encouragement they have the capacity to keep up with their
classmates. By not giving them that extra nudge and support we are jeopardising
their high school entry prospects and therefore in some sense their entire
futures.
The other ‘but’ is that the “I’m cruel because I care”
approach can contribute to bullying. The positive use of harsh and persistent
criticism can make the recipient unsure if they are being bullied or
encouraged. This becomes a problem particularly between senior and junior
students. When accused of being bullies, students often counter with “I was
just teaching”. The controversy in recent years over corporal punishment in schools and sports reflects this ambivalence. Relationships become complicated.
Some of the deepest and most heartfelt friendships I’ve seen as an ALT have
been between children I initially identified as bully and victim. This dynamic
is dramatically visible on graduation day, when the bad boys of the grade~ the
ones who spent the most time being yelled at in the staffroom by tag-teaming
teachers~ always cry the hardest and linger the longest after the ceremony. The
teachers who did the yelling often cry too. My first term as an ALT I had one
teacher who seemed to have no other job than following a certain boy around and
whacking him on the head with various objects whenever he was bad (which was
every five minutes). On graduation day the teacher and boy were locked in a
hysterically sobbing mess of an embrace that lasted so long the other teachers
eventually intervened to physically pry them apart, send the boy home and sit
the teacher down in the staffroom for a hot cup of tea.
The danger is, how do you know when it’s abusive? In Geisha: A Life, Mineko Iwasaki writes about her boyfriend turning up with drunken friends in the middle
of the night and demanding that she cook for them all. Was this really, as she
seems to have interpreted it, part of a carefully weighed strategy to help her
become a better hostess, or was he a thoughtless arsehole with a sense of
entitlement who took her for granted and treated her like a servant? Obviously
I have my own opinion on that one, but it isn’t always so clear cut. Eryk’s
recent post on bullying contains this quote:
Akiko: We tried to talk to the person being isolated when our teacher told us to do so. But she didn’t really respond to us. If she could be a bit more cooperative, like try to join in or talk to us, then I think things can get better.
Tamaki: You mean, she won’t be bullied if she changes her attitude?
Akiko: Yes, because that’s why she is being rejected…. actually it’s like she is rejecting being with us. If she wants to be a part, she’s got to change herself.
In Australia my perception was that bullies and victims are
distinct categories, but in Japan the roles are fluid. It’s entirely possible
that these kids genuinely wanted to become friends and were trying to “teach”
their classmate how to behave. If she had responded better to their “training”,
perhaps they would have gone on to be kind to her. I’m not in any way trying to
ascribe pure motives to bullies. I’m simply pointing out that the cultural
prevalence of put-downs as “instruction” is a huge complication in getting to
the bottom of bullying issues.
This post contains Amazon affiliate links. That means if you click it then buy the book I get a small commission. It does not mean that I am being paid to promote a particular product or opinion. I will only include affiliate links that are directly related to the subject of a post. If you want to know why I have begun including affiliate links you can read about it here.
This post contains Amazon affiliate links. That means if you click it then buy the book I get a small commission. It does not mean that I am being paid to promote a particular product or opinion. I will only include affiliate links that are directly related to the subject of a post. If you want to know why I have begun including affiliate links you can read about it here.
I can't comment on the bullying connection, but I don't think that the first part of your post is unique to Japan. I have experienced this in Australia. The kids who have potential are the ones who are pushed and criticised. If you are allowed to get away with sloppy work and your teacher is good in their field, chances are you're not talented enough to be worth putting in the extra effort of criticism and reproach, even in Australia and especially in the arts. Despite its more worrying side I can certainly relate to it, both as one of the pupils who were pushed and as a teacher myself. But of course, my teachers never crossed the line of actually being nasty or abusive in any way which makes a huge difference.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I should probably include a disclaimer in all school-related posts that I really have no idea how school works in other countries >.<
Delete