"Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel." Samuel Johnson, 1775
Beware blind allegiance. Humans are imperfect. Why should we think human-made institutions would be any different?
24 February 2013
19 February 2013
be at peace, gentle lamb
Lest we forget,
Life is fragile,
Every moment a treasure.
Thank you, Jil, for the light you shared with us.
It's reflected ten-thousand times over through the countless people whose lives you touched.
Life is fragile,
Every moment a treasure.
Thank you, Jil, for the light you shared with us.
It's reflected ten-thousand times over through the countless people whose lives you touched.
13 January 2013
forest for the trees
One of my new friends has this quote on an online profile:
Anyhow, the way I see it is this: can I grow, learn, enjoy life, find love, and make at least some small contribution to humanity while here in Japan? If not, why live so far from my loved ones back home?
My job has improved considerably this year (not really ideal, but better) and my love life has miraculously been resurrected from the grave. The thing is I was so obsessed with being sure about staying here, that I've been placing way too much pressure on my romantic interests trying to figure out if it really is possible to have a committed same-sex relationship in Japan. Poor guys! They must think I'm crazy. I was, I guess. Temporarily insane. Anyway, hopefully I haven't inflicted any fatal injury on my newly forming friendships.
Things take time, and what we want and who we are changes day to day. How can we expect anyone else to be certain about things we can't be certain about ourselves?
I've been so obsessed about holding on to some rigid concept of who I am: what kind of work is right for me, what environment is best for me, what life I want, what kind of relationship I need... Of course, we shouldn't ignore our feelings and instincts, but maybe we limit ourselves by not considering other possibilities. Flexibility is one of the best characteristics of humans--when we can manage it anyway.
Compound all of this with 3 weeks of jet-lag, sleep deprivation, and migraines, and it's a wonder I haven't completely lost it. (I suppose if I had, I'd be the last to know though. 笑)
I'm going to stay. I've been sitting on the fence for too long. I really do love it here. Who knows if it's the right choice? You've got to decide something. Might as well decide to be open to what might come, even if it might not...
(Thanks, タイ!)
The moment one of the people took one of the truths to himself, called it his truth, and tried to live his life by it, he became a grotesque and the truth he embraced became a falsehood.
Sherwood Anderson, The Book of the GrotesqueIt's a timely warning for me. While I may not have become a grotesque quite yet, I've been compressing myself into a little convoluted ball of stress lately because I've been so obsessed with determining whether it's possible for me to live a fulfilling life here in Japan. Ha! What a question! Is it possible for us to live a fulfilling life anywhere?! Only time will tell. At any rate, February 1 has been looming on the horizon for me--the date I have to decide if I want to recontract for another year from next August (6 months later!). How should I know how I'll feel 6 months later?!
Anyhow, the way I see it is this: can I grow, learn, enjoy life, find love, and make at least some small contribution to humanity while here in Japan? If not, why live so far from my loved ones back home?
My job has improved considerably this year (not really ideal, but better) and my love life has miraculously been resurrected from the grave. The thing is I was so obsessed with being sure about staying here, that I've been placing way too much pressure on my romantic interests trying to figure out if it really is possible to have a committed same-sex relationship in Japan. Poor guys! They must think I'm crazy. I was, I guess. Temporarily insane. Anyway, hopefully I haven't inflicted any fatal injury on my newly forming friendships.
Things take time, and what we want and who we are changes day to day. How can we expect anyone else to be certain about things we can't be certain about ourselves?
I've been so obsessed about holding on to some rigid concept of who I am: what kind of work is right for me, what environment is best for me, what life I want, what kind of relationship I need... Of course, we shouldn't ignore our feelings and instincts, but maybe we limit ourselves by not considering other possibilities. Flexibility is one of the best characteristics of humans--when we can manage it anyway.
Compound all of this with 3 weeks of jet-lag, sleep deprivation, and migraines, and it's a wonder I haven't completely lost it. (I suppose if I had, I'd be the last to know though. 笑)
I'm going to stay. I've been sitting on the fence for too long. I really do love it here. Who knows if it's the right choice? You've got to decide something. Might as well decide to be open to what might come, even if it might not...
(Thanks, タイ!)
17 September 2012
What do you think about Japanese people?
I'm often asked, "What do you think about Japanese people?" here. There's nothing especially wrong with the question, but the person posing the question is usually making one major assumption: that all Japanese people are alike, that they can all be described collectively in a few brief, conversational, sound-bite statements.
Without generalizations it's difficult to talk about any topic, but on the other hand, generalizations can grossly oversimplify things and hide fascinating complexities. I find it difficult to answer such questions in part because I feel no matter what I say, I won't come close to accurately describing the Japanese as a whole. While we might be able to find some kind of "norm" that describes a group of people, no one individual in that group will consistently exhibit the behaviors and patterns of thinking described by that "norm." For example, I could say the Japanese are hard-working, but I know plenty of Japanese who are not, and even those who are generally hard-working waste time and pretend to look busy just to avoid others' imagined criticisms. In addition, as soon as we describe one group in one way, often that information is misused to make erroneous comparisons with other groups.
One of the most vexing things I've encountered in Japan is the so-called "Nihonjinron" theories of baseless generalizations about the Japanese people as if all Japanese were the same. In my experience, Japanese are more like other people than they are different. There may be some relatively small, interesting differences in values and behavior, but overall, Japanese are just like other people, in terms of both positive and negative traits; however, because of these myths of Japan's uniqueness, many Japanese people fail to recognize this. As an example, it's particularly offensive when I'm told, "You're so Japanese" when I do something polite because it implies that the Japanese act more politely than others. Such statements fly in the face of reality. I can't be Japanese. I'm an American acting according to the values that were instilled in me through my upbringing. If I do something polite it has more to do with my parents' child-rearing skills than anything else.
After traveling in over a dozen countries, I've seen first-hand that people everywhere are both selfish and kind, polite and rude, aggressive and gentle, and open- and narrow-minded. Perhaps the most important lesson that anyone of any nationality could learn is that they are more alike than different from others. I've met some Japanese who understand that. They act simply as individual people, and they treat me as an individual person without prejudice. I've met other Japanese who are so caught up in this myth of the uniqueness and homogeneity of Japan that they are unable to see things for what they are. That said, I could make the same statements about Americans, too. Humans have this tendency to group and label things. It's quite a useful skill which makes an overwhelmingly complex world easier to cope with, but at the same time is prone to error. It's particularly dangerous when applied to in- and out-groups. When you consider that over 98% of Japan's native population are people of Japanese ethnicity, it's easy to understand why some Japanese might fall into the trap of these generalizations. It's much harder to make such generalizations about Americans given the US's ethnic diversity, yet that doesn't stop many Americans from doing so, and bigotry remains a serious problem.
At any rate, it's perfectly human to ask what someone thinks about one's compatriots. I could be clever and answer "mu," but that's not particularly sociable. I wish my Japanese were good enough to come close to expressing how I actually feel. If I could, this is what I'd say:
"I like Japanese people just as I like other people. Many Japanese are kind, hard-working, self-sacrificing, and friendly, but some are not. Some are overly occupied with what they imagine others' opinions to be, but so are many people in the world. This notion that not expressing one's opinion necessarily creates harmony is nonsense. Without mutual understanding, harmony cannot be achieved.
"Japanese people's willingness to sacrifice their happiness for others is both admirable and contemptible. On the one hand, this selflessness helps many people, but at the same time, it hurts people too--by not taking care of themselves, they ultimately become ineffective at their work and become a burden on others. In addition, the beneficiaries of their sacrifice in turn must feel regret for benefiting from someone else's sacrifice.
"One of the worst aspects of Japanese culture is the sexism--it's absolutely unforgivable for men to treat women as lesser beings. This is slowly changing, but Japan has a long way to go in this regard.
"There are many things I've learned from Japanese people and culture (modern and traditional) that I'm forever grateful for. I think they have much to be proud of, but like anything, there is a balance to be struck, so it can also be said that they have much to learn--as do we all."
Without generalizations it's difficult to talk about any topic, but on the other hand, generalizations can grossly oversimplify things and hide fascinating complexities. I find it difficult to answer such questions in part because I feel no matter what I say, I won't come close to accurately describing the Japanese as a whole. While we might be able to find some kind of "norm" that describes a group of people, no one individual in that group will consistently exhibit the behaviors and patterns of thinking described by that "norm." For example, I could say the Japanese are hard-working, but I know plenty of Japanese who are not, and even those who are generally hard-working waste time and pretend to look busy just to avoid others' imagined criticisms. In addition, as soon as we describe one group in one way, often that information is misused to make erroneous comparisons with other groups.
One of the most vexing things I've encountered in Japan is the so-called "Nihonjinron" theories of baseless generalizations about the Japanese people as if all Japanese were the same. In my experience, Japanese are more like other people than they are different. There may be some relatively small, interesting differences in values and behavior, but overall, Japanese are just like other people, in terms of both positive and negative traits; however, because of these myths of Japan's uniqueness, many Japanese people fail to recognize this. As an example, it's particularly offensive when I'm told, "You're so Japanese" when I do something polite because it implies that the Japanese act more politely than others. Such statements fly in the face of reality. I can't be Japanese. I'm an American acting according to the values that were instilled in me through my upbringing. If I do something polite it has more to do with my parents' child-rearing skills than anything else.
After traveling in over a dozen countries, I've seen first-hand that people everywhere are both selfish and kind, polite and rude, aggressive and gentle, and open- and narrow-minded. Perhaps the most important lesson that anyone of any nationality could learn is that they are more alike than different from others. I've met some Japanese who understand that. They act simply as individual people, and they treat me as an individual person without prejudice. I've met other Japanese who are so caught up in this myth of the uniqueness and homogeneity of Japan that they are unable to see things for what they are. That said, I could make the same statements about Americans, too. Humans have this tendency to group and label things. It's quite a useful skill which makes an overwhelmingly complex world easier to cope with, but at the same time is prone to error. It's particularly dangerous when applied to in- and out-groups. When you consider that over 98% of Japan's native population are people of Japanese ethnicity, it's easy to understand why some Japanese might fall into the trap of these generalizations. It's much harder to make such generalizations about Americans given the US's ethnic diversity, yet that doesn't stop many Americans from doing so, and bigotry remains a serious problem.
At any rate, it's perfectly human to ask what someone thinks about one's compatriots. I could be clever and answer "mu," but that's not particularly sociable. I wish my Japanese were good enough to come close to expressing how I actually feel. If I could, this is what I'd say:
"I like Japanese people just as I like other people. Many Japanese are kind, hard-working, self-sacrificing, and friendly, but some are not. Some are overly occupied with what they imagine others' opinions to be, but so are many people in the world. This notion that not expressing one's opinion necessarily creates harmony is nonsense. Without mutual understanding, harmony cannot be achieved.
"Japanese people's willingness to sacrifice their happiness for others is both admirable and contemptible. On the one hand, this selflessness helps many people, but at the same time, it hurts people too--by not taking care of themselves, they ultimately become ineffective at their work and become a burden on others. In addition, the beneficiaries of their sacrifice in turn must feel regret for benefiting from someone else's sacrifice.
"One of the worst aspects of Japanese culture is the sexism--it's absolutely unforgivable for men to treat women as lesser beings. This is slowly changing, but Japan has a long way to go in this regard.
"There are many things I've learned from Japanese people and culture (modern and traditional) that I'm forever grateful for. I think they have much to be proud of, but like anything, there is a balance to be struck, so it can also be said that they have much to learn--as do we all."
01 July 2012
shamisen 6 months later
Thought I'd give you an update on my progress at learning tsugaru-jamisen. Still pretty bad, but making progress:
26 April 2012
what real learning looks like
Just had an awesome class! I love it when the students start cheering as soon as they see you coming! The class was made up of ten "sports concentration" 11th graders (9 boys, 1 girl). They're not considered to be the "best" English students by the school system, but I disagree. They were completely focused on class, enjoyed it, and applied themselves the entire class period. So, explain to me why I've only been getting to teach 1.7 classes a day? I disrupt the English curriculum? Really?
That class just made my week!
That class just made my week!
25 April 2012
home
Despite teaching an average of 1.7 classes a day, one advantage of my school is it's on top of a mountain outside of the city with sub-tropical forest and mountains all around. Today, in my ample spare time (6 hours today), I went for a walk around the school grounds, and I was reminded of something. All the angst about my job situation and culture shock that I was feeling disappeared as soon as I was surrounded by nature. Even thousands of miles away from home, we can feel perfectly at home with mother nature. I need to visit her more often.
18 April 2012
purpose
Just taught my first class in a month--introducing myself to the entering high school class. The contrast between sitting around for weeks with literally no work to do and teaching really makes it clear to me how much I enjoy teaching. Or maybe it's just that I enjoy working and contributing in any way. Sure, work is tough, but not working might be tougher, at least from a psychological point of view. At least for me, having some meaningful task is crucial for my happiness.
Sitting around having nothing to do only to get paid is not as enviable as it may seem. Yes, I know, I'm very lucky to have an income when many people don't. I'm just saying it's demoralizing to get up every morning, commute, and sit at a desk for no other purpose than to satisfy an arbitrary time requirement--not to mention that it's a complete waste of taxpayers' money. And no, it's not because I'm ignoring some potential work that I could be doing. I used to try to come up with other projects, but those were met, if not with complete resistance from teachers, then at least with crippling indifference that ensured the projects' ultimate failure. After almost two years here, I've learned that if the teachers don't need me in class, I'm of no use and my very existence at the school is a burden to them. That's not a happy place to be. Anyway, the lesson is that people need some sense of purpose as well as some sense of belonging--something that's hard to come by here in Japan if you're not Japanese.
Overall, the past few months have been hard, maybe that's why I haven't written anything here. It was very cool to see India in February, but the subsequent week of severe diarrhea and two months of nausea and weakness have unavoidably and unfortunately tainted that experience. I'm finally able to smell Indian food and think back on the trip without triggering severe nausea. I lost almost 15 lbs (which I wouldn't think would even be possible given how thin I already was) and was extremely weakened which is probably why I ended up getting bronchitis for a month. Now, my appetite is back, and I'm eating a lot. My strength is returning as well, and I've started doing Aikido, running, and swimming again. Feels good.
Sharing Japan with my mom during spring break was great! A year ago, we had to cancel the trip, so it had been a long time in the making. We got to see the 'Japanese plum' (apricot) and cherry trees blooming together and did a lot of walking! In some ways, I don't feel quite so far from home after her visit here, but in other ways, it brought the difference between having that sense of family and belonging and being in a country that does not allow foreigners to fully integrate into stark contrast.
Looking forward, I've been given an awesome opportunity to grow professionally and take on more responsibility as one of the ALT advisors for my area. My counterpart is a very accomplished and friendly guy, so I'm very excited. It also means switching schools, and as much as I will miss the students here, the change will be good. I'll be working at a technical school which is mostly boys. It'll be interesting to see how it compares to the all girls school I taught part-time at last year. The fact that it is a technical school should also be advantageous because in Japan there is this tragic misconception that ALTs detract from academic students' primary focus of passing the university entrance exams, and thus, they have fewer opportunities to teach in those schools than in non-academic ones.
So, that's life, right? Some good, some bad. Always in flux.
Sitting around having nothing to do only to get paid is not as enviable as it may seem. Yes, I know, I'm very lucky to have an income when many people don't. I'm just saying it's demoralizing to get up every morning, commute, and sit at a desk for no other purpose than to satisfy an arbitrary time requirement--not to mention that it's a complete waste of taxpayers' money. And no, it's not because I'm ignoring some potential work that I could be doing. I used to try to come up with other projects, but those were met, if not with complete resistance from teachers, then at least with crippling indifference that ensured the projects' ultimate failure. After almost two years here, I've learned that if the teachers don't need me in class, I'm of no use and my very existence at the school is a burden to them. That's not a happy place to be. Anyway, the lesson is that people need some sense of purpose as well as some sense of belonging--something that's hard to come by here in Japan if you're not Japanese.
Overall, the past few months have been hard, maybe that's why I haven't written anything here. It was very cool to see India in February, but the subsequent week of severe diarrhea and two months of nausea and weakness have unavoidably and unfortunately tainted that experience. I'm finally able to smell Indian food and think back on the trip without triggering severe nausea. I lost almost 15 lbs (which I wouldn't think would even be possible given how thin I already was) and was extremely weakened which is probably why I ended up getting bronchitis for a month. Now, my appetite is back, and I'm eating a lot. My strength is returning as well, and I've started doing Aikido, running, and swimming again. Feels good.
Sharing Japan with my mom during spring break was great! A year ago, we had to cancel the trip, so it had been a long time in the making. We got to see the 'Japanese plum' (apricot) and cherry trees blooming together and did a lot of walking! In some ways, I don't feel quite so far from home after her visit here, but in other ways, it brought the difference between having that sense of family and belonging and being in a country that does not allow foreigners to fully integrate into stark contrast.
Looking forward, I've been given an awesome opportunity to grow professionally and take on more responsibility as one of the ALT advisors for my area. My counterpart is a very accomplished and friendly guy, so I'm very excited. It also means switching schools, and as much as I will miss the students here, the change will be good. I'll be working at a technical school which is mostly boys. It'll be interesting to see how it compares to the all girls school I taught part-time at last year. The fact that it is a technical school should also be advantageous because in Japan there is this tragic misconception that ALTs detract from academic students' primary focus of passing the university entrance exams, and thus, they have fewer opportunities to teach in those schools than in non-academic ones.
So, that's life, right? Some good, some bad. Always in flux.
14 January 2012
new dawn
明けまして御目出度う御座います!
Congratulations on the dawn of a new year!
I've been quiet on here for a while now, maybe questioning whether I had anything worth saying, maybe just thinking to myself, maybe just enjoying Japan. Hard to say. Doesn't matter really.
It was great to return home over the holidays and be with the people I love so much. It was the perfect place to sweep away the old, dried detritus of the past, take the seeds, and plant them to grow in the warmth of the coming year. Thank you. I am grateful to you.
It was hard leaving, heart-wrenching actually. There are so many things in life that are. That's the other edge of the sword, isn't it? It cuts both ways. No happiness without pain. I think all we can do is just choose to carry that love and happiness in our heart and endure the rest. And so, as the earth travels around the sun, and life is constantly ended and renewed, each day opens a new year which is really just a continuation of the old year without end. Everything begins and ends without beginning and ending at all. Revisiting the past, sharing in the present, together we open new doors to the future. Though an ocean separates us, those people I love are with me even now.
In the spirit of new beginnings with old roots, I've started learning the shamisen, tsugaru-jamisen to be exact. Tsugaru-jamisen music was created by blind, itinerant, beggars called bosama in Tsugaru, Aomori, in northern Japan, at the turn of the last century. The spirit of tsugaru-jamisen is innovation; it owes its existence to the innovation of the bosama taking an old instrument that came to Japan from China centuries ago and giving it a new life with a style of playing unlike anything heard before.
It's great to be making music again. It soothes this body and mind given to me by millenia of music-making ancestors. For a long time, I've been longing to start playing music again. Even singing traditional songs for the benefit of my Japanese students' education in Western culture struck a chord deep within me. We humans need music. Not just hearing, but making it too. At a Japanese taiko drum performance over a year ago, there were a couple of brothers who played tsugaru-jamisen. Their lively, dynamic playing resonated deep inside and lifted my spirits. Later, when my new friend Juergen practiced his shakuhachi at the summer camp we were working at, I knew I needed to start playing something again. What though? Taiko? It was taiko that made me fall in love with Japan after all. Not something you can play on your own too easily though. I wanted something that I could do anytime, not just when practice was held. Shamisen? Nah, too expensive. Shakuhachi? Beautiful, but maybe a little too somber. What's more lively? Shamisen. Damn, it's expensive. Tough, shamisen. Ok.
Juergen and his friends helped me find a teacher, and I've begun. Got a long way to go, but that's ok. Just playing a few random notes makes me happy. Even though I can't play anything, I want to share this experience with those people I love so much across the Pacific. If I were there, you'd be complaining about the terrible racket I was making. So that you don't miss out on that experience, here you go:
Someday, I hope to look back at this video and think, "wow, I've come a long way." In the meantime, I pity my neighbors. For comparison, here's what tsugaru-jamisen should sound like:
Congratulations on the dawn of a new year!
I've been quiet on here for a while now, maybe questioning whether I had anything worth saying, maybe just thinking to myself, maybe just enjoying Japan. Hard to say. Doesn't matter really.
It was great to return home over the holidays and be with the people I love so much. It was the perfect place to sweep away the old, dried detritus of the past, take the seeds, and plant them to grow in the warmth of the coming year. Thank you. I am grateful to you.
It was hard leaving, heart-wrenching actually. There are so many things in life that are. That's the other edge of the sword, isn't it? It cuts both ways. No happiness without pain. I think all we can do is just choose to carry that love and happiness in our heart and endure the rest. And so, as the earth travels around the sun, and life is constantly ended and renewed, each day opens a new year which is really just a continuation of the old year without end. Everything begins and ends without beginning and ending at all. Revisiting the past, sharing in the present, together we open new doors to the future. Though an ocean separates us, those people I love are with me even now.
In the spirit of new beginnings with old roots, I've started learning the shamisen, tsugaru-jamisen to be exact. Tsugaru-jamisen music was created by blind, itinerant, beggars called bosama in Tsugaru, Aomori, in northern Japan, at the turn of the last century. The spirit of tsugaru-jamisen is innovation; it owes its existence to the innovation of the bosama taking an old instrument that came to Japan from China centuries ago and giving it a new life with a style of playing unlike anything heard before.
It's great to be making music again. It soothes this body and mind given to me by millenia of music-making ancestors. For a long time, I've been longing to start playing music again. Even singing traditional songs for the benefit of my Japanese students' education in Western culture struck a chord deep within me. We humans need music. Not just hearing, but making it too. At a Japanese taiko drum performance over a year ago, there were a couple of brothers who played tsugaru-jamisen. Their lively, dynamic playing resonated deep inside and lifted my spirits. Later, when my new friend Juergen practiced his shakuhachi at the summer camp we were working at, I knew I needed to start playing something again. What though? Taiko? It was taiko that made me fall in love with Japan after all. Not something you can play on your own too easily though. I wanted something that I could do anytime, not just when practice was held. Shamisen? Nah, too expensive. Shakuhachi? Beautiful, but maybe a little too somber. What's more lively? Shamisen. Damn, it's expensive. Tough, shamisen. Ok.
Juergen and his friends helped me find a teacher, and I've begun. Got a long way to go, but that's ok. Just playing a few random notes makes me happy. Even though I can't play anything, I want to share this experience with those people I love so much across the Pacific. If I were there, you'd be complaining about the terrible racket I was making. So that you don't miss out on that experience, here you go:
Someday, I hope to look back at this video and think, "wow, I've come a long way." In the meantime, I pity my neighbors. For comparison, here's what tsugaru-jamisen should sound like:
28 September 2011
arashi
here's a promotional video to encourage folks to come to japan. it features arashi (possibly the most popular j-pop group) and includes kagoshima!
(arashi='storm' in japanese. here's my favorite arashi song: troublemaker.)
(arashi='storm' in japanese. here's my favorite arashi song: troublemaker.)
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