Now, I’m not saying that the Japanese education system is perfect (in fact, it has a whole bunch of other problems, though math doesn’t seem to be one of them), but I thought it would be interesting to talk about it while we were on the subject. In fact, if you’re a parent you might see things that you can utilize with your child as well. As we’ll learn, the parent-child relationship is a very important aspect of how Japanese children become good learners.

Japan’s Love Affair With Stress

When I think of the Japanese education system, I personally think about the college examination tests that most high schoolers end up taking, probably because I saw what it did to my friends the year or two before they had to take it. At the end of high school this single test decides your future. You get to choose one college you want to go to. That college has a certain score requirement. If you don’t reach that score you probably don’t go to college, and what college you go to decides your future fate and salary as well, much more than it does in America. So, you want to shoot for the best college possible that you think you can get into… but if you overshoot it and fail the test, you spend a year as a ronin; basically, that’s one year where you study and get ready for the test next year, because you didn’t get into college. Talk about stress.

But, the stress doesn’t only come from the test itself. The preparation for the test is much worse. Often starting from elementary school a child will begin going to juku, or “cram school.” This is school after school with the goal of getting you into a better middle school. If you can get into a better middle school, then you go to more juku so that you can get into a better high school. A better high school means a better opportunity to get a higher score on the college entrance examination. Still though, you go to even more juku in high school to prepare yourself for the test. It’s no wonder it’s lovingly nicknamed the “hell test.” And, if you fall behind and don’t get into a good school? Well, extra juku for you then, kiddo.

It’s no wonder that Japan has one of the highest suicide rates in the world.

Despite this, Japanese students (and Japanese society on a whole) are able to handle extreme amounts of stress. The stress a Japanese person deals with on a day-to-day basis is even infamous throughout the first world. I think that this extreme stress is our first clue, though. It hints at why the Japanese education system is successful, though in a very indirect way. In the end, I believe that it comes down to a concept known as amae.

Amae and Indulgence

One of the most obnoxious things about Japanese children, in my opinion, is how dependent they seem to be on their mothers. You see this over and over again, and this dependence is even encouraged by society! “You’re creating a society of spoiled brats!” I used to think. Recently I’ve changed my mind, though.

The word amae comes from the word amaeru, which, according to Japanese psychoanalyst Takeo Doi (he’s the guy who basically made this term a thing), can be defined as “to wish to be loved.” On top of this, it has connotations of a need for dependency and a request for indulgence of one’s perceived needs. This amae type of relationship is the ideal for all close relationships in Japan. It starts with child and mother, but expands out to student and teacher, student and upperclassmen, salaryman and boss, husband and wife, etc. It’s the senpai-kohai relationship in a nutshell. If everyone is able to indulge their needs into everyone else then everything will work out, or so Japanese society has been saying for quite a while now. Turns out they’re onto something.

Let’s go back to everyone’s first amae relationship: mother-child. Most mothers indulge their children to some degree – feeding them, changing them, calming them when they cry… etc. But Japanese moms are supposed to take these indulgences to another degree. It’s so prevalent in Japanese society that they have come up with extra ways to describe and talk about this type of relationship. You certainly don’t see that in too many other cultures. It’s kind of like how Eskimos have a ton more words of snow. The Japanese have more ways to talk about it because it’s that much more important in their society.

Here’s what I’m trying to get at, though. This dependence… this indulgence… this amae… it’s what keeps Japanese society together. It’s the root cause of the successes you see in the Japanese education system. It’s also why society is so orderly and safe (at least for now), I think, and it all comes back to how much a mother indulges their child. Let’s find out why this is so important.

Non-Cognitive Versus Cognitive

Most people think that IQ, the ability to memorize, etc., are the key metrics for determining the future of a child. These are what economists call “cognitive skills” and it turns out they are not very good predictors of future success. What are good predictors are what’s known as “non-cognitive skills.” These are things like persistence, self-control, curiosity, conscientiousness, grit, and self-confidence (there are a lot more, too). Think about it this way: The kid who has the persistence to practice math for 10 hours a week will do better than the cognitively smart kid who doesn’t bother doing their homework because they’re lazy and everyone’s told them they’re “soooo smart.”

The importance of cognitive versus non-cognitive skills is really highlighted in a study done by James Heckman on the GED program. He compared students who graduated from high school with those who passed the GED exam, which is a way for those who didn’t graduate from high school to get something that substitutes for a high school diploma. The thing is, though, this tests cognitive skills as a way to see if a person “knows enough stuff” to have passed high school. It’s closely linked to an IQ test (another test of cognitive ability) in many regards. That’s the problem, though. It’s assuming that high school exists to teach students cognitive skills and nothing else. With that in mind, let’s look at how these students did later in life. It’s not a pretty sight.

When Heckman looked at 22 year olds from both groups, the difference was huge. Only 3 percent of GED recipients were enrolled in a four-year university or had completed some kind of post-secondary degree. Compare that to 46 percent of high-school graduates. On top of this, GED recipients had nearly the exact same future outcome as high school dropouts. Higher unemployment, higher divorce rate, lower annual income, and a higher chance of using illegal drugs to name a few. Even though they are supposedly equal on a cognitive level to their fellow high school graduates (and considerably smarter than those who dropped out of high school but didn’t take the GED), their future successes (or lack thereof) was exactly the same.

What I’m trying to say is this: non-cognitive abilities end up being a much better predictor of success than cognitive ones. Your ability to persevere, to have self-control, and so on are the things that decide the future of almost every student, not how “smart” someone is… though non-cognitive strengths do happen to make for a higher cognitive potential later on in life.

To illustrate this, We only need to look as far as the famous “Marshmallow Test”. In the late 1960s a professor at Stanford (Mischel) decided to test the willpower of four-year-olds. Researchers brought each child into a small room and offered them a treat (like a marshmallow). They were told that the researcher was going to leave the room and the child could eat the marshmallow when they returned. But, if they wanted to eat the marshmallow right away they could ring a bell, at which point the researcher would return right away and the child could eat it. The twist here is that if the child waited for the researcher to return on their own, no bell, they would get two marshmallows! In this way, they tested the child’s self-control, a very important “non-cognitive” skill.

It turns out, the correlation between how long a child could wait and their future success was very tightly woven together. When they checked on the students a little over twenty years later, they found that children who were able to wait 15 minutes for their marshmallow had, on average, a 210 point higher score on the SAT than those who rang the bell after a mere thirty seconds.

Think about it, the kids with stronger non-cognitive skills were able to work harder, had more willpower, self control (“should I study or watch TV tonight?”), and grit, and because of this scored higher on their SAT tests, which just so happens to have a correlation with future income and other success indicators. Over and over again, studies have shown that non-cognitive skills are the things that are worth developing in your children.

Amae and The Development Of Non-Cognitive Skills

Now we know that non-cognitive skills are an excellent way to predict a child’s future, but how does all this relate to amae? It turns out amae and the amount of it that is received by a baby/child directly correlates with how well someone can develop these special skills.

One researcher (Meaney) has been looking at the effect of rat-moms doting on child-rats. When a rat-mom licks and grooms one of her pups, it (amazingly) actually alters their gene expression! Certain chemicals are affixed to certain sequences on a pup’s DNA and when a rat-mom licks and comforts her child-rat, this gene sequence gets “turned on”. By turning on this particular gene sequence (through enough love and attention), the rat babies grow up to be far more courageous, curious, and less nervous. When a rat-baby lives a healthy, not-stressful life, this may not cause much of a difference. But, when scientists pick up and stress out the baby rats over and over again for an experiment, it makes all the difference.

Scientists found that the rat babies with a strong attachment to their mothers (the mother would give them licks to relieve the stress) grew up with that DNA sequence turned on. The mothers that were less attentive created rat babies that were considerably more neurotic, shy, and less courageous. This “attachment” (which I should note is very often associated with amae) made all the difference in the development of these rat-baby’s non-cognitive skills and future lives.

Unsurprisingly, this is the same with humans as well. In the 1960s, Ainsworth, a professor at Johns Hopkins University, ran a test to study just this. He had a young 1-year-old child and its mother sit in a room and play for a while. Then, the mother left the room, sometimes leaving the baby alone or with a stranger. After a while, the mother would come back. Then they categorized the reactions by the baby:

1. Child greets mother happily, running to reconnect with her with joy and/or tears (Securely attached)

1. Children who pretended to ignore the mother when she returned. Children who lashed out at the mother. Children who fell to the floor in a heap. (Anxiously attached)

Although Ainsworth theorized that this lack of attachment (#2) could “create psychological effects that could last a lifetime” (he was right, by the way) it wasn’t until 1972 when Everett Waters took this test even further. He found 267 pregnant women who all had incomes below the poverty line. When the babies were age one, they were all given the attachment test that Ainsworth did in the ‘60s. Then in preschool, he followed up again. Two-thirds of the “securely attached” children were categorized by their teachers as “effective” in terms of behavior. Compare that to only one in eight (12.5%) children who were anxiously attached got the “effective” label. Skip ahead to 10 years old. Forty eight of the students were invited to a summer camp where they were unknowingly studied. Those who were anxiously attached during baby-times spent more time alone, were less confident, and had more trouble socially. Now skip ahead to high school to see the real kicker. Using data from when the children were just four years old, they found that they could have predicted with 77 percent accuracy which children would drop out of high school… and we all know how dropping out of high school tends to turn out, GED or no GED.

The interesting thing about “attachment” is how differently the Japanese and American societies think of it. In Japan, this “attachment” is highly encouraged, even in non mother-child relationships. In America, independence is more encouraged. Though America’s stance has softened since the Spock Baby Book days, you still see this going on to a certain extent.

This is just a guess, but I wonder if this has anything to do with the prevalence of ADHD in our society. The reason I say this is because of the difference between the number of boys and girls that suffer from it. Boys in America have ADHD at a 13.2% rate. Girls are only 5.6%. If you think about the difference in how boys and girls are raised, it’s hard to ignore this discrepancy. Girls in America are doted on more, given more attention, and more likely to be taught to be “dependent.” Compare that to boys who are supposed to be raised as more independent and tough. Is it possible that the way we raise boys versus girls is what’s causing more boys to have trouble paying attention? Self control, willpower, and the ability to pay attention are all non-cognitive skills. If “attachment” and “dependency” are the things that develop a child’s non-cognitive skills… could this be why more boys have ADHD than girls? Could the “Spock’s Baby & Child Care” book craze (which encourages parents to be cold to children and not indulge them) be part of the reason why the US has such high rates of ADHD, thanks to the lack of amae? It certainly seems possible, though I’ll have to submit to the experts on this one, as it’s just a guess.

Back to attachment, indulgence, and how they negate stress, though. What’s really interesting about this (which we found out from the rat mothers) is that as long as a mother is attentive and indulges in their child’s needs, the harms of stress can be negated. It’s been shown over and over again that a stressful life is very harmful to babies and children growing up. During childhood, this stress mainly attacks the prefrontal cortex, a part of your brain that is “critical in self-regulatory activities of all kinds, both emotional and cognitive. As a result, children who grow up in stressful environments generally find it harder to concentrate, harder to sit still, harder to rebound from disappointments, and harder to follow directions” (Tough).

In fact, there are direct correlations between childhood stress and your future life. Using something called the “ACE score” (which is a way to quantify levels of childhood stress), one Burke Harris sent out a questionnaire to 700 patients of her clinic. She then turned the answers into an ACE score and found something startling. Those with 0-3 ACE score (low stress in childhood), only 3 percent had learning or behavioral problems. Compare that to 51% of those with an ACE score of 4+. Stress during childhood has an effect on your ability to pay attention, control your temper, follow directions, so on and so forth… things that are directly related to the non-cognitive skills that happen to predict your future success.

“Wait, Koichi!” you suddenly say. “I thought you said the Japanese childhood was a particularly stressful one!”

“What a focused point!” I’d reply. “I see your rat mother doted on you well as a child!”

That’s right, remember the rat mothers and rat babies? Stress can be negated by indulging rat moms. With a strong enough attachment all the stresses of home and life are negated, meaning the child can learn from the stress without all the long term issues that the stress can cause.

One study at NYU shows this perfectly. Clancy Blair followed 1,200 infants from birth, measuring their reactions to stress via cortisol level spikes. Family turmoil and other problems at home really affected a child’s cortisol levels, which is to be expected. But, Blair found that if the mother was responsive and attentive to their child, and there was that attachment, this would negate the stress and keep the child’s cortisol levels in check. This prevents the prefrontal cortex from getting messed up, which in turn allows a child’s non-cognitive skills to blossom (not to mention the cognitive ones, too!). It all comes down to the amae.

This is partly why I think that a Japanese child is able to grow up in such a stressful and difficult school system. Despite the stress it usually ends up okay! The amount of pressure a mother has to indulge her children is what’s keeping these kids afloat and (in general) healthy. I’m not saying there’s no bad eggs, because there are, but it’s hard to ignore how well so many kids cope with stress, which allows them to learn important lessons about failure, dealing with it, and becoming a stronger person. Their mothers (and all the other people they have amae-based relationships with) are there to keep them from falling apart.

Let’s Pile On The Stress And Ganbare!

So now we know that amae is allowing kids to deal with stress without the negative effects it tries to bestow. And we also know that amae is creating children with stronger non-cognitive skills, the best predictor of future success. But, this is fairly focused on very early childhood (though there are plenty of older Japanese school kids who are super dependent on okaa-san still). What about elementary, middle, and high school times? What’s going on here to develop soldiers of the non-cognitive (and therefore cognitive) type?

To me it comes down to word 頑張れ (ganbare), which means “persevere.” It’s so prevalent in Japanese society, in fact, that people will yell it out for just about any reason. If you’re playing tennis, your supporters will yell “ganbare” instead of “you can do it!” If you’re going to take a difficult exam, you’ll hear “ganbare” as well… as if trying harder will help you to get a better score right before you take the test. The difference is a stark one, though. “You can do it!” is all about hope. “Ganbare” is open to the possibility that you may not do it, but it does ask you to try your best. The possibility of failure isn’t ignored.

Actually though, it turns out that just trying harder will get you better test scores, no matter how you prepared for it. This is what psychologists call “conscientiousness,” and it is an incredibly important non-cognitive skill. I believe with the prevalence of “ganbare” (persevere!) oozing out of every Japanese orifice, they are simply reminding people to be more conscientious. They are reminding people to sweat the small stuff, concentrate, and try hard even when you don’t actually have to.

In one study during the 1960s, Calvin Edlund gave seventy-nine children an IQ test. All of them had similar socio-economic backgrounds. Then, he split the group into two and had them take the test. Seven weeks later they took the test again, except this time one of the groups were told that they’d get an M&M for each correct answer. On the first test the two groups had a fairly even average IQ. On the second test the M&M group went up an average of 12 points. Taking this experiment further at the University of Florida, two researchers split the two groups up further. The interesting part is that the “low-IQ” children, who scored an average of 79 on the IQ test, now scored a 97, which is average. In this case, what is their true IQ? Is it the 79, when they weren’t really “trying as hard,” or is it the 97 which they got because they tried?

I feel like this happens in all things. This “conscientiousness” will help a child (or adult!) to do better in all categories, not just IQ tests. Paying attention and trying harder even when you don’t have to is a sign that you have grit, self-control, and some other non-cognitive skills. Just by “trying harder” you become smarter, in a way, and this push to “try harder” comes packaged up into one word, (I bet you can guess what it is), ganbare. How important it is in Japanese society is hard to ignore, and I think it’s one thing that really shows how much focus is placed on character and non-cognitive skills in the Japanese education system (and society).

Learning Disabilities and Stereotyping

Another big difference I see between Japanese and American kids is how they’re segregated. That’s right, even after racial segregation has come to an end, we still see cognitive segregation in America. In Japan, if you’re falling behind in class, you don’t get held back a grade and you don’t get put into a “special class” (that being said, a lot of people do get institutionalized, unfortunately). No, you stay with your class and graduate with your class, and that’s final.

The thing is, “group identity” is a powerful force. If you identify yourself as being stupid, you’re going to do worse in school. If you identify yourself as “different” you are going to act differently.

In one study in the 1990s, students at Princeton were tested on how well they could complete a 10-hole mini golf course. With white students who were told that this was a test of their “natural ability at sports” they scored 4 strokes lower than similar (also white) students who were told that this was a test of their ability to think strategically. Alternatively for black students, when they were told that this was a test of strategic intelligence they were four strokes worse. When told that it was a test of natural athletic ability they did better. As you can see, stereotyping yourself can have an effect on how you perform. In American classrooms those with ADHD are stereotyped as being less able to pay attention in school. In extreme cases they may be put into special classes where that stereotype becomes stronger. In Japanese classrooms you’re in your class whether you like it or not and everyone’s expected to perform to be the same, for better or worse.

I’d like to think that this expectation to be a part of the group unit of the classroom is part of the reason why students in Japan score better than the US. That’s not to say that this focus on the group isn’t a bad thing as well. When you are different you are often ostracized or bullied more than in US classrooms, which has the same sort of effect as segregating a classroom (though possibly worse). So, while there’s some good things about this there is some bad as well. Japan’s education system is far from perfect, after all.

A Careful Balance

So we’ve seen how a mother’s attentiveness gives her child the tools to be able to take on the world. We’ve also seen how non-cognitive skills, such as perseverance, seeps through every nook and cranny of Japanese society. Then, we took a look at stereotyping and how it’s less encouraged, at least in terms of “who’s smart and who’s not,” giving everyone a more even playing field.

Japan is without doubt creating a lot of children with a lot of grit, I would say. After seeing what affect amae can have on a child growing up (anywhere in the world), it makes me wonder if this is a big part of the reason why Japanese children can take on so much stress and hardship during their education (and beyond… that salaryman life!). I also wonder if this is why they put so much stress upon their children. Do they do it because they can? I think they probably do.

While indulging your child and letting them depend on you are important for negating the harmful outcomes of stress at a young age, stress is important as well. Recently a lot of psychologists have been looking at the lives of the wealthy and their kids, and they are surprised to find that these children seem to have more issues than poor inner city ones. When you look at the rich parents of children who go to a fancy school, you start to see two “problem type parents.”

The first of these is the parents who become emotionally detached (where’s the amae?) while still expecting high levels of achievement (stress). After all, you’re going to a fancy private school so you better do well, no buts about it! These kids, who end up having attachment issues with their parents, end up with all kinds of problems later on:

To Luthar’s surprise, she found the affluent teenagers used alcohol, cigarettes, marijuana, and harder illegal drugs more than the low-income teens. Thirty-five percent of the suburban girls had tried all four substances, compared with just 15 percent of the inner-city girls. The wealthy girls in Luthar’s survey also suffered from elevated rates of depression; 22 percent of them reported clinically significant symptoms. (“How Children Succeed”)

The second type of parent is the opposite of the first one. These are the parents who OVER indulge. One study shows how people who make a million or more dollars a year tend to be “less strict than their own parents.” Basically, they make life too easy on their children. This makes for a lot of indulgence and very little stress, and as we learned from parent type number one, you shouldn’t have one without the other. These parents would call teachers to try and raise their child’s grades on papers, or try to get time extensions for things, or even ask if their child can retake a test. Without ever having to deal with their own stresses and failures, these kids grow up helpless and unable to deal with the challenges of real life.

Too much amae is not good. Too much stress is not good. But, an equal amount of both… that works out well. So in a society with so much amae it only makes sense to heap on an equal amount of stress. When these two things are imbalanced you run into problems in education and society.

How Japanese Children Succeed

So here’s how I see things happening in Japanese society… at least the stuff they got right. There’s a lot that’s going wrong as well, but with America’s recent obsession with “making our school system more like Japan’s” I thought it would be good to go through all of this step-by-step so you can see why it works, rather than looking skin deep and trying to throw more money at math and science.

First, a baby is born. I could possibly go into how Japanese mothers tend to choose natural births over C-sections, and how this creates a stronger attachment between baby and mother, but I don’t know much about that, so let’s leave that part there. Then, the child and mother grow close. Through all the amae the mother gives, there is a sense of dependency from the child. Attachment is formed, and that grows through childhood. This dependency is really obnoxious to anyone who didn’t grow up in Japan.

This extreme amount of amae is what lays the foundation for their future. By the time they reach school age, they are more courageous, curious, have more self control, etc. All those non-cognitive skills are more developed. I think this is why you see three year olds riding the train by themselves, going on errands for the parents., so on and so forth. You’d never see that in America, though I think this is mostly due to all the bad people out there (maybe they didn’t get enough amae too?).

When they get into school these non-cognitive skills help them to socialize better and deal with disappointment. Kids are pretty wild and random and often do what they want. Being able to deal with other kids and control your temper is what is going to carry you through the younger school years. Right about here you really start to see a lot of ganbare too, one of the non-cognitive skills that is thought of as very important to teach every person in Japanese society. This gets beaten into you for all aspects of life, and we see a lot of middle schoolers and high schoolers who value perseverance over natural ability. In fact, have you ever seen a Japanese anime that isn’t about some kid overcoming difficult odds by just trying harder? Okay, maybe sometimes, but this is a recurring theme for a reason.

All of this personal growth crescendos at the end of high school, when they have to take their college entrance examination test. The only reason all the stress up to this point hasn’t destroyed them is thanks to the way relationships are set up: It all comes down to amae. Teachers, other students, siblings… etc. If everyone important to you indulges you, and you do the same for them, it all works out. Replicating this amae relationship beyond mother and child is the only way to balance and negate out the stress, which is stronger than most other places in the world.

What I don’t know is what came first. Did the stresses of society cause Japan to evolve in away that let them cope with it? Or, did it just so happen that the amae in their society is what allowed them to deal with the extra stress, so they add more and more on, which allows their students to learn and grow stronger. It’s the chicken and the egg problem, basically.

Whatever it is, I think we’ll see things change. In fact, I think it’s already happening as the Japanese school system becomes less and less “Japanese.” Maybe it will be a good thing, and maybe we’ll see more creativity come out of it (something that Americans do tend to do better). I have a feeling that there’s a happy compromise somewhere, though. I don’t think it’s in the middle, as I think science has spoken when it comes to a lot of these ideas. But, I do think it’s somewhere a little less stressful than where the Japanese have their dial set right now. Still, we can learn a lot from it, and they can learn a lot from us. As long as education keeps getting better with each passing generation we’ll see some good things happen, though until we can change our whole society (which is near impossible in a short period of time, I think) it’s probably going to be a while.

P.S. A lot of the American-related education stuff came from the book “How Children Succeed” by Paul Tough. If you’re interested in education I highly recommend it. As I read through it I couldn’t help but see similarities between the success stories and how a lot of Japanese society already works, which is what inspired me to write this article. There’s a lot more in Tough’s book, though, so please take a look if you find this kind of thing interesting! The more people to read about education the better prepared our future children will be!

Bonus Wallpapers!

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Sources

• “How Children Succeed” by Paul Tough
• The Anatomy Of Independence (Wikipedia)
• Is Amae the Key To Understanding Japanese Culture? by Herman W Smith and Takako Nomi
• US Students Slide In Global Ranking on Math, Reading, Science

For this article, I hope to show you how to do that in Japan. Depending on where you are or who you’re with (or what your age is, for that matter!) there will be various cues to remind you that it’s time to go home. If you don’t know these cues you could be overstaying your welcome (or staying the night in a park). We’ll be looking at three situations in particular this time: commercial outlets, childhood curfew, and finally the oh-so-difficult general “social situation.”

Commercial Outlets

Most supermarkets don’t simply announce that they’re closing – that would be very abrupt and un-Japanese. Instead a recognizable song gently coos from the speakers to coax shoppers, often salarymen drowsy and dazed from hours of overtime, towards the checkout. For the bewildered foreigner it’s like your shopping experience has its own theme tune, with the Japanese cashier’s tendency of saying each purchased item out loud as they scan it serving as a kind of vocalized end credits. Make sure you don’t overstay your welcome by failing to make it to the checkout before the song finishes though, if you do you’ll get those end credits with an eerie one-of-the-main-characters-has-just-died lack of music. Only in this case, the character that died is the unwritten communal contract binding Japanese society together. You killed it, and everyone in the store feels very awkward about the whole ordeal.

Those that have been ushered out of a Japanese store, gym or even an office building with the use of gentle music will probably have been surprised to note that the tune used is Auld Lang Syne, a traditional Scottish song believed to have originated from a fifteenth century poem first transcribed by Robert Burns. The title is translated literally from Scots as ‘Old Long Since’ and the words are a call to remember and cherish old friendships.

Between 1929-52 a Canadian singer named Guy Lombardo performed the song in a live broadcast from New York every New Year’s Eve, cementing its most common usage in the English speaking world as a song sung by drunken revelers on the stroke of each new year, mumbling their way through until everybody chants the one line they think they know in unison: “For the saaaake of auld lang syyyyne!” (Ironically, the line that everybody thinks they know is the one that most people get wrong, it should actually just be “For-or oh-old la-ang syne”).

The tune was most likely imported to Japan by missionaries, as it was to the Korean Peninsula where the national anthem of South Korea, ‘Aegukga,’ was sung to the tune of Auld Lang Syne up until 1948 (and South Koreans weren’t the only ones, The Maldives also attached their national anthem to it up until 1972).

If you ask a Japanese person the name of the song playing over the supermarket speakers (ask hurriedly, it’s time to leave, remember), they won’t answer ‘Old Lang Syne,’ or even its Japanese name Ōrudo Rangu Sain, but Hotaru no Hikari, ‘The Glow of a Firefly’. This song, first introduced in the late 19th Century, is a contrafactum of Auld Lang Syne; the lyrics are changed to a description of hardships endured by a student in his quest to gain knowledge and serve Japan, beginning with the act of reading in the eponymous firefly’s glow.

Despite the altered words containing no mention of goodbyes, the song is still used as a symbol of saying farewell, as it is in other parts of the world. Besides its use as a melodic bouncer of Japan’s commercial outlets, gently prodding you towards the exit with a feigned sense of regret that you couldn’t stay longer, Hotaru no Hikari is often sung at graduations and, reminiscent of Guy Lombardo eight decades ago, by the star-studded cast of NHK’s New Year’s Eve production Kōhaku Uta Gassen as the show closes.

Going Back Together With the Crows

As you’re no doubt aware, children are sneaky little buggers. Japanese children are no different but parents are gifted with a way of sidestepping the ominous task of setting a curfew. In most countries, results depend on times given by other children’s parents and the propensity and stamina of the child, but in Japan whole towns will share the same predetermined curfew time signaled by music or announcements played over a system of loudspeakers.

The time can vary based on the region and season, but it’s usually just before the sun sets. In my area (Koenji, Tokyo) it currently plays at 4pm and is soon followed by what appears to be the world’s smallest, sulkiest naval parade as half a dozen kids in sailor school uniforms trudge past my building.

In some towns a simple announcement serves as the signal for children to return home, but most places play a melody named Yūyake koyake, ‘Sunset Glow’, composed by Nakamura Uko and named after a bus stop in his hometown of Hachioji, Tokyo:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rP4ZXaayFQo

Yūyake koyake de hi ga kurete
Yama no otera no kane ga naru
Otete tsunaide mina kaerō
Karasu to issho ni kaerimashō.
Kodomo ga kaetta ato kara wa
Marui ooki na otsukisama
Kotori ga yume o miru koro wa
Sora ni wa kirakira kin no hoshi.

As the sun sets and night falls,
The mountain temple’s bell rings.
Hand in hand let’s all go home,
Let’s go back together with the crows.
After the children have returned home
A big round moon shines.
When the birds dream,
Starlight fills the sky.

Social Situations

Social situations involve more nuance than the previous examples. As much as a host might want to, they can’t suddenly creep over to a CD player and start playing Yūyake koyake or Hotaru no Hikari to let everyone know it’s time to leave, perhaps adding a sigh and shrug of resignation at being forced to end the party. Though there isn’t one nationally understood sign that guests should leave, there are a number of cues they can be given, many of which are the same in other countries.

The first, and probably most common, is the classic simulation of tiredness. Perhaps your host will start off with a small yawn or an eye rub, before your inevitable failure to pick up on it leads them to emphasize more clearly how tired they are. A simple statement of “Ahh, otsukareta,” or, in more extreme cases, wafting a yawn so vigorously that – even in the unlikely event of the gesture going unnoticed – the wind pressure itself might lift the unwanted guest up out of their seat and whisk them from the room.

Another method is to make it seem as though the guest wants to leave, a kind of Jedi mind trick that works by stating guests must need to leave in the hope that they’ll repeat the words back in confirmation. A small circular wave of the fingers directed at the guests for added effect is optional. Similar to this is the implication that the host has been rude and kept guests for longer than they should have, “Nanka osoku made gomen ne!” For bonus multiplier points, a combination of the Jedi mind trick and the tiredness method can be used wherein the host implies the guests are the ones that must be tired, “Ah, mou konna jikan da, otsukaretta yo ne!”

The running hours of trains in Japanese cities also play a major role in the delicate dance of departure. With taxis charging the kind of rates you’d expect for your own kago, the most common end to a social event involves people hunched over smartphones to check the time of their last ride home before shrieking apologies and dashing off with their coat half on, one sleeve flailing behind them in an unintended wave of goodbye. In a recent poll, the majority of Tokyoites even voted against having 24 hour public transportation, most likely because they don’t want to lose what some bosses consider the only acceptable excuse for clocking out of an overloaded office.

The last train is a flexible tool that can also be used by hosts, as well as guests, to let people know it’s time to go. If someone asks you “Shūden heiki?” it’s probably a genuine display of concern that you may miss your train but there’s also a chance you’re straying towards the boundaries of your welcome. When you reply “No problem, I have another two hours!” watch out for a pained smile that fails to mask the mix of panic and weariness in their eyes.

Now, er, that was a pretty long read, you must be tired…

(My Ideal Guy: (Johnny Depp + Orlando Bloom)/2 drawn by Mami)

This sounds like a dream, doesn’t it? I wish this was true, but unfortunately not…

“Tell me about your greatest moment as a student.” That was my homework from the ESL school that I used to go to. As you can probably tell, I wasn’t particularly ‘diligent’ and that is why I made up a silly short story for my homework. Getting a high grade or making a great presentation could be thought of as a “great moment” for most students, but honestly I couldn’t come up with any good examples at the time no matter how much I thought about it.

Education is often analyzed in terms of outcomes, results, or as a process. But here I would like to put this assumption aside, and just concentrate on the experience itself, specifically in Japan. Wouldn’t you like to know what it is like?

Educational system in Japan

In Japan, the educational system in is the same as it is where I am now (Canada).

6 years of elementary school
3 years of junior high school
3 years of high school
4 years of university

This was actually reformed after WWII from the old 6-5-3-3 system to what you see above. Of these years of education, high school and university are not mandatory, though high school enrollment is over 96% nationwide in nearly all cities of Japan. Around 46% of Japanese high school graduates go on to college or university.

Most schools operate on a three-term system with the academic year starting in April when the cherry blossom bloom, and end in March of the following year. So in March there is a graduation ceremony, and I remember a lot of students were crying because of hay fever creating a very grave atmosphere.

There are some people who claim that Japan should change the school-year system to be the same as North America, because this difference sometimes causes inconveniences to students who wish to study abroad in places such as the US, Canada, and so on. The same problem would happen to foreigners who wish to study in Japan as well. They graduate from their school in June or July, but have to wait until April to go to a Japanese school.

Personally I would be a little sad if the Japanese school-year system was changed. It’s such a beautiful moment to say goodbye to your friends underneath the cherry blossoms in full bloom.There are so many good songs about graduation and cherry blossoms, too, and they would all be ruined! Although I understand the student side of perspective, I’d like them to leave that system as a Japanese culture.

「さくら（独唱）」／森山直太朗

卒園式の歌(さよなら僕たちの幼稚園) 号泣

Too Many Study Hours

Other than the lower grades of elementary school, an average school day on weekdays in Japan is seven to eight hours depending on the school and what grade you’re in. That’s one of the longest school days in the world! Despite this, a student’s studying doesn’t usually finish even after school lets out. Not only do they have drills and other homework after school, but there’s also extra classes to attend at their public schools or at private “cram schools” known as 塾 (じゅく/juku). Especially with junior high and high school students, much extra time outside of regular school is spent studying and preparing for their entrance examinations. Even during vacations (six weeks in the summer and two weeks for both winter and spring) there is often homework to be done and jukus to attend. Hours outside of school hours are spent at juku.

If my memory serves me correctly, I started going to a cram school in my third grade of elementary school. I still remember when we had a “New Year’s Eve all-night studying (年越し徹夜勉強会：としこしてつやべんきょうかい/toshikoshi-testuya-benkyoukai)” event in my fifth grade. Teachers encouraged us not to fall asleep but to keep studying until the morning. It would have been very fun to stay up later with friends, if only we weren’t studying. However, 初日の出 (hatsu-hinode), which means “the new year sunrise,” was quite memorable and made everyone’s new year resolution the same: achieve better grades and study hard. I found it pretty fun at first, because teachers actually prepared a little games for us, too. However, maybe around one o’clock, my eyelids started getting more and more heavy. I tried to study but couldn’t concentrate on it anymore and I doubt that it was only me. It wasn’t a efficient way to study at all. It was all about discipline.

Although studying itself is good for everyone, studying too much can make people stressed out. Therefore, if I could change the Japanese school system, I would remove the big entrance examinations and cut down the amount of private school education, because I think that is an overload of work for children. Second only to bullying, the number of children committing suicide due to “anxiety for the future” is increasing. Most of this is due to worry about how one will perform on examinations.

Japanese Classroom System

I was surprised that many schools in Canada don’t seem to have fixed classrooms because in Japan every class has its own fixed classroom. In most cases in Japan, the students take all the courses in the same classroom with the same classmates, except for practical trainings and laboratory works. In my case, grades 3-4 and grades 5-6 were 2-year fixed classrooms, though it’s usually just a 1-year fixed classroom system.

In elementary school, one teacher teaches all the subjects in each class, whereas the teacher changes depending on a subject in junior high and high school. Instead of the students moving around to the teachers, the teachers move around to the student (besides the exceptions I mentioned earlier).

Another thing that’s different about the Japanese classroom system is that most elementary and/or junior high schools provide lunches on a standardized menus known as the 給食 (きゅうしょく / kyuushoku). The students are all divided into groups called 班 (はん / han). With lunch, this is important because one han is the 給食当番 (きゅうしょくとうばん / kyuushoku-touban). This particular han’s job is to take responsibility for the 給食. They pick up their classmates’ lunches in the school kitchen / lunch delivery area, carry the lunches to the classroom, serve their fellow classmates, makes sure that the food settles down into each kids’ stomachs, and then carries everything back. There is usually about a week rotation for which each han is the 給食当番.

If you’re not on the lunch duty han, your han could be doing something else that’s helpful. For example, students in a Japanese school are responsible for doing the cleaning of their own school. Sometimes there is a han that takes on the duty of cleaning (掃除/そうじ/souji), and they are known as the 掃除当番 (そうじとうばん / soujitouban). I think this is a great system because it is a good way for kids to learn how to socialize and be responsible. It also makes them more aware about causing a mess, since either they or a friend will have to clean it up!

School Uniforms

Some elementary schools and nearly all junior and high schools require their students to wear school uniforms. In my case, I wore school uniforms from kindergarten to high school.

Although some people believe that students, or at least high school students, should be able to choose the clothes they want to wear in school, I’d say that the best policy is that they wear uniforms because it’s more affordable and convenient.

Students tend to be very concerned about fashion and fitting in, so if they can choose the clothes they want to wear at school, they will prefer to wear brand-name clothing. For example, I remember that girls put a lot of money into brand-name socks or loose socks, which are a style of baggy socks. A pair of socks are sometimes 1,000-2,000yen. What a rip off! Thank goodness socks are the only brand-name thing for us to put on due to the uniform. If we were allowed to wear whatever we wanted, people would have certainly added hundreds of thousands of yen in clothing costs in a single year.

Also, uniforms are very convenient. Students do not need to worry about what they will wear to school. For instance, they do not need to consider what colors match with what, which style looks best, and what their classmate will think of their clothing. If everyone wears the same uniform, all of these choices are made in advance , so you don’t have to feel self conscious about your clothes. It saves more time for students and they can concentrate on studying more, though it just gave me longer sleep in the morning.

Furthermore, uniforms tend to be made of strong materials and they are easy to clean. I wore uniforms from kindergarten to high school and I had two uniforms for each warm season and cold season. When one was dirty I would wash it and wear the other one. This way my school clothes were always clean and ready to be worn. Uniforms are very practical!

They are not good all the time, though. As in many countries, uniform policy is strictly adhered to. There is a set length for skirts and teachers would take out tape measures to check. Japan has four seasons and its weather and temperature can vary greatly. However, uniforms usually only come in two varieties: winter and summer. Anything in-between can be a bit uncomfortable.

I also remember that my teacher wouldn’t allow me to put pants on because of the uniform policy, even though it was a freaking cold day. It might become less practical and ununified, but I think it would be good for students’ health to wear warmer clothes on cold days and lighter clothes on warmer days. Heck, let the boys wear skirts in the summer if they want to! I still believe that I have bad circulation because of the school uniforms.

A Great Difference

A great difference between the Japanese school system and the North American School system is that the North American people respect and encourage independence whereas the Japanese people control individual responsibility by maintaining group rules. This explains one characteristic of Japanese social behavior (or maybe even Asian social behavior).

I realized this fact in ESL school in Canada. There were students from all over in the classroom: Saudis, Brazilians, Spanish, Chinese, Korean and me, Japanese. While the teacher was talking, myself, the Chinese, and the Korean students never butted in to ask questions or to announce our opinions. We waited until the teacher was completely finished, whereas students from other countries spoke out anytime.

We talked about this in the classroom once and figured out that this difference was caused by each country’s school system: in Asia, we mostly have lecture style lessons and in other countries, they spend a lot of time doing discussion style lessons.

A Joke

To finish this article, I wanted to end with a famous joke called “A Brilliant Japanese Student In An American Classroom.” I wonder if you find an odd bit in this joke… you got it? Yeah, the Japanese guy named Hideo speaks out too actively, doesn’t he? Which is pretty different from what you’ve learned about Japanese students from this article today. I don’t think the average Japanese student puts his/her hand up as much as this guy, either.

A BRILLIANT JAPANESE STUDENT IN AN AMERICAN CLASSROOM

It was the first day of school and a new student named Hideo, the son of a
Japanese businessman, entered the fourth grade. The teacher said, “Let’s
begin by reviewing some American history.”

Who said “Give me Liberty, or give me Death?” She saw a sea of blank faces,
except for Hideo, who had his hand up.

“Patrick Henry, 1775.” he said.

“Very good! Who said ‘Government of the people, by the people, for the people,
shall not perish from the earth’”? Again, no response except from Hideo:

“Abraham Lincoln, 1863.”, said Hideo

The teacher snapped at the class, “Class, you should be ashamed. Hideo, who is
new to our country, knows more about its history than you do.”

She heard a loud whisper: “F-k the Japanese.”

“Who said that?” she demanded.

Hideo put his hand up. “Lee Iacocca, 1982.”

At that point, a student in the back said, “I’m gonna puke.”

The teacher glares and asks “All right! Now, who said that?”

Again, Hideo says, “George Bush, to the Japanese Prime Minister, 1991.”

Furious, another student yells, “Oh yeah? Suck this!”

Hideo jumps out of his chair waving his hand and shouts to the teacher, “Bill
Clinton, to Monica Lewinsky, 1997!”

Now, with almost a mob hysteria, someone said, “You little sh*t, if you ever
say anything else, I will have you killed.”

Hideo yells at the top of his voice, “Gary Condit, to Chandra Levy, 2001.”

The teacher fainted

Hope you enjoyed the joke! For me, the Japanese education system is weak because it makes Japanese students get more and more conservative as time goes by. I think Japanese students should be more vocal and participate in a conversation like Hideo. Well, maybe Hideo is too much, but at least a little more. Many of them don’t have curiosity about the world or ambition to study overseas, either.

I think that this problem has been caused by the big examination system because they are forced to be in a competition to get into the better school from very early in their life. Their end goal is often set up to get into the best university by their parents and/or teachers. Hence, many of them don’t gain curiosity about anything other than getting a good mark and they become like drones.

I’m pretty sure that you all probably have such interesting personal stories about your own educational experience. Tell me about your country’s education system. How is it different? How is it the same? What do you like / dislike? I think all educational systems in the world have good parts and bad parts, so maybe if we learn from each other we can make education better around the world! Arigatou.

Bonus Wallpapers!

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For example, when the man who was revered as a divine being by his people, Emperor Hirohito, was showing deteriorating health and unexplained vomitting, his doctor knew what was causing it, but withheld the diagnostic from him.

“I don’t regret that I didn’t tell him about his cancer”
– Akira Takagi, Emperor’s Chief Doctor

According to a survey conducted in the mid-1990s, only one out of five cancer patients were honestly told of their diagnosis. [1]

A New York Times article cites a cancer diagnostic experience of 50-year-old Kazuku Makino. Her doctor diagnosed her with gallstones and suggested surgery to remove them. Makino, being a former nurse, sniffed out, for the lack of better but no truer words, the bullshit, and opted out of having unnecessary surgery.

Makino’s doctor suspected she had gallbladder cancer. The diagnostic proved to be correct. The cancer spread to her system and Makino died shortly after.

Her family sued the hospital for malpractice, but the courts rejected their claim. What resulted was a 1989 landmark case won by the medical industry in which doctors weren’t obligated to inform their cancer patients their true condition.

Some doctors argue that informing the patient of a terminally ailing disease would cause unhealthy psychological stress to the patient. As far as I know, no reputable journal or study has supported this claim.

Photo Source: pezheadsthemovie

Japanese doctors also have a reputation in prescribing medicine for every symptom or even non-symptom the patient may have. Oftentimes, the medicines are overprescribed. Some prescriptions aren’t even labeled for user readability, but with a hidden code for those only in the medical field can understand. So who knows what kind of medicine you are ingesting (or if you are unlucky, putting medicine into that backdoor of yours).

What is up with all the sketchiness? Doctor’s make a commission off of the medicine.

Why can Japanese doctors get away with this?

How Doctors Are Viewed

Photo Source: cathywagnerblog

To understand why Japanese doctors operate the way they do, one must understand how the Japanese view their relationship between themselves and their doctor.

In the United States, medical care is viewed as a service. The doctors and medical staff provide the skilled services, while the patients are the paying customers. The customers expect to get what they are paying for. The Japanese society on the other hand generally view doctors as their masters and the patients as the subordinates who are indebted to the master for his or her services.

As such, it is extremely rude and looked down upon to question their doctors, in addition to go around consulting other doctors for second opinions. The doctors tend to not go into a detailed explanation of the diagnostic and treatment being administered.

Again, to contrast this to U.S. doctors, the patient is informed of the specifics of the treatment, such as what and why it is being conducted, and the possible outcomes, good and bad, that may result. A big reason behind informing the patient is legal protection for the doctor and the medical practice.

Unfortunately, the Japanese tend to dislike causing drama. If any hint of malpractice was involved, it is very rare for them to take legal action against their doctors. And if no legal action is taken against the doctors, then they are left unchecked to do whatever they want.

What the Japanese expect from their doctors in regards to full disclosure has been changing the past few decades. In a survey conducted in the 1990s, 60% of the people surveyed would want to be told by their doctor if they were diagnosed with cancer. In a research that was conducted in 2004, 86% surveyed wanted full immediate disclosure. [2]

Not all doctors aren’t forthcoming with the results. Those who have studied or done work overseas, especially in Western countries, tend to bring back with them the practice of being forthright. How do your country’s doctors operate? Koichi has also written an similar article on Japanese doctors. Check it out!

[1] Japanese Journal of Clinical Oncology Volume 24, Issue 5, October 1994.

[2] Kai, I., Miyako, T., Miyata, H., Saito, T, Tachimori, H., (2004). Disclosure of cancer diagnosis and prognosis: a survey of the general public’s attitudes toward doctors and family holding discretionary powers. BMC Medical Ethics, 5:7. Retrieved June 17, 2004.

Certainly the concept of overworking yourself to death is not unique to the Japanese, however the country perhaps does take the issue more seriously than others. Coined with the term 過労死 (かろうし, karoshi; added to the Oxford English dictionary 2002), overworking to death has become a problem in Japan and a favorite topic to cover among the media circles; As a social issue by the Japanese media, and as a characterization of the Japanese society and culture by foreign media. Causes of karoshi deaths are from developed health issues that result in heart attacks and strokes due to long periods of high-level stress. It can also lead to suicide, which is given its own term, 過労自殺 (かろうじさつ, karojisatsu; literally translated to overwork suicide).

According to the Japanese Ministry of Health, Labour, and Welfare (MHLW), “sudden deaths of any employee who works an average of 65 hours per week or more for more than 4 weeks or on average 60 hours or more per week for more than 8 weeks may be karoshi.”

How serious is it?

The first recorded case of karoshi occurred in 1969. Nearly a decade later (1978), the concept was given the name “karoshi”. In 1982, the release of the book entitled Karoshi by Tajiri Seiichiro, Hosokawa, and Uehata brought the issue in the public view, but it wasn’t recognized as a major social problem until the 1980′s Bubble Economy.

A few high-ranking corporate executives died without any hints of illness leading up to their deaths. The deaths were picked up by the media, which promptly developed growing concerns from the public. They had every right to be concerned, since they too were putting just as many hours into their jobs as the dead executives. Concerns reached to the point where the government took action and started collecting and publishing information on karoshi as a cause-of-death option.

According to the Labor Force Survey, nearly one-fourth of male employees (7.8 million) clocked in more than 60 hours per week of work in 1988. Based on the numbers in 1975, it’s nearly a 2.4 times increase. Even though the statistics threshold is 60 hours and above, a typical work week can easily be 70-90 hours per week. Why do this? To show loyalty to their company. This loyalty stems from the Japanese culture of living for one’s master and superior. More often than not, the extra work is done as cloaked overtime (furoshiki), where the employee does his work off the clock and the employer turns a blind eye.

A survey conducted by the government showed that 90% of workers didn’t understand the concept of work-life balance. Four out of five would cancel any dates or plans if their boss asked them to work overtime.

More recent statistics showed the situation hasn’t changed. According to the International Labour Organization (ILO), 28% of Japanese employees worked 50 hours or more per week in 2001. The percentage is significantly a lot higher than many European nations: Germany (5.3%), Finland (4.5%), Sweden (1.9%), and Netherlands (1.4%). Japan is on the same level with the U.S. as developed nations that put in the most work hours, although many believe that the Japanese work significantly more hours than the U.S.. A lot of the Japanese overtime hours are left unrecorded (cloaked overtime), therefore not taken into consideration when generating the statistics.

In 2005, the MHLW reported 328 Japanese employees who suffered karoshi. The number is a little over 7 times higher than the recorded result in 2000.

Bear in mind that the statistic numbers are believed to be not on par with reality. Many families accept the death with silence and don’t push the issue any further. And most companies won’t outright accept responsibility for the deaths. Lawyers and scholars estimate the annual number of karoshi victims to be in the ballpark of 9,000 deaths, which is near the annual number for traffic fatalities.

To put some of this into perspective of how severe the overworking can be, let’s consider a karoshi case. Hiraoka Satoru’s story was featured in the November 13, 1988 Chicago Tribune’s article Japanese Live and Die for their Work. A foreman in charge of a ball bearing factory, Hiraoka usually clocks in 12- to 16- hour days, easily totaling up to between 72 to 95 hours a week for most weeks. The prior three years before his death, he clocked in at almost 3,700 hours annually. A typical 40 hr work week with no vacation equates to 2080 hours annually.

The thorn in most of the karoshi victims’ side is that they are often not compensated for the overtime work.

How is karoshi being handled?

A few Japanese companies are making some effort to reduce karoshi and promote a work-life balance to their employees. For example, Toyota has set a hard limit of 360 hours of overtime annually. In addition, some of their offices play a recorded message every hour during the evenings urging the staff to go home and get some rest. Some companies enforce no overtime days where everyone must leave the office at 5:30 pm.

Sometimes the measures implemented by these companies aren’t enough for the employees. While on paper it may seem like they are recognizing the problem, the competitive work environment demonizes those who decide to partake in these policies. For example, Mitsubishi UFJ Trust & Banking has a program that allows their employees to go home up to three hours early to care for children or elderly relatives. Only 34 out of 7,000 employees are signed up for the program.

Frustrated with the situation, more and more workers and/or their families are taking on their negligent employers in court.

Some individuals are avoiding the situation entirely by taking on short-term jobs, rather than be a worn out salaried cog for large companies. Although the pay and benefits don’t match to a corporates compensation, the work-life balance is significantly better.

There is this adage I like to use when differentiating U.S./Japan work culture to the European style: U.S. and Japan live to work, while the Europeans work to live. I do believe that everyone should give their 100% effort in performing their jobs, however having your health deteriorate to the point of death is certainly not worth it. Many Japanese are slowly coming to realize this.

P.S. Maybe being a フリーター (freeta) is more your style? Share it on Twitter.
P.P.S. Perhaps a more corporate culture is something you desire. Let us know on Facebook or Google+.

Featured Image: http://www.flickr.com/photos/jamesjustin/
Sleeping (Really! They are not dead, just sleepting!) Japanese Salaryman Images: http://www.flickr.com/photos/torek/

Hiyama, T & M Yoshihara. “New occupational threats to Japanese physicians: karoshi (death due to overwork) and karojisatsu (suicide due to overwork)” Occupational and Environmental Medicine, Vol.65 No.6 (June 2008): 428-429. Print.

Morioka, Koji. “Work till You Drop” New Labor Forum Vol.13 No.1 (Spring, 2004): 80-85. Print.

Rowley, Ian & Hiroko Tashiro. “Recession Puts More Pressure on Japan’s Workers.” Bloomberg Businessweek, 5 January 2009: <http://www.businessweek.com/globalbiz/content/jan2009/gb2009015_807968_page_2.htm>. Online.

“Karoshi Strikes Japanese Businessmen” British Medical Journal. Vol.303, No.6815 (Dec 7, 1991): p 1419. Print.

This article was written by Caitlin O’Mara, who has worked for three years in the Tohoku revion of Japan as an assistant English Teacher. She studies Japanese in her free time and works as a contract web geek, providing that a BA in East Asian Studies is not entirely worthless. She can be found at caitlinomara.com.

If you’ve watched the episode of Naruto where he tries to kancho Kakashi, you should know what I’m going to talk about. If you’re unfamiliar with this “fun” childrens’ game, it’s pretty simple: put your hands together with your index fingers out and try to ram them up your best friend (or even better, teacher’s) butt. Not only is this this a harmless game for your friends, it’s also a great deal of fun to do to your teachers.

Little kids here are adept at kancho for two reasons. First, they’re just little kids. This means that they’re small, fast, and have no developed sense of empathy or shame. Second, Japanese parents and teachers are remarkably lenient with the under-6 age group. People give the US flak about having spoiled, obese, unruly children but Japan seems to embrace the idea that “kids will be kids” even more. This means that up until they enter elementary school, teachers are at the mercy of the pack. (I should point out that most of the kids are well-behaved, but if you’re perceived as weak or foreign, they attack in groups with the viciousness of the candiru fish.)

But wait, that’s not all!

Kancho is only the tip of the iceberg. While it remains one of the more popular “torture” methods of my preschool aged kids, they have a whole arsenal of ways to make me wish I’d received my rape whistle (Many kids have whistles they can blow, in case of a pervert. Excuse me, but where’s my whistle? I think I need one more than them!) during college.

• The boob grab
  This seems to be the second most common attack, if you’re female (If you’re male, they hit a little further south). Boys and girls alike have no problem running up and giving you a good squeeze. It’s almost like the preschool handshake.
• The boob punch
  The preschool high five. Obviously, more painful.
• The crotch grab
  More commonly executed on boys (because, let’s face it, there’s more to grab if you’re male), though, the students who have yet to grasp the anatomical differences between men and women will still happily try both. Then they get confused when their little grab and dash doesn’t affect me.
• The stomach/butt punch
  This is mostly a height-induced limit – they can’t really reach any higher without a running jump. Little kids loves to hit and punch and I’ve even seen them do this to their own mothers! Without any disciplinary action later! It’s not too bad but if you have a full bladder, it can be quite painful…and almost embarrassing.
• The face slap
  Quite simply, the kids like to jump up and try to hit you in the face. I should buy them all purple pimp hats.
• Biting
  This one’s a bit of a conundrum and I’m not sure I understand it entirely. The teachers say its because they like me so much, they get so excited by my presence, that they have to bite something. Me.

[yframe url='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDbA9E6Blbo']

Surviving the wretched hive of scum and villainy

After being thrown into a preschool by your employers (who are probably off to drink and laugh at your pain and suffering), you develop certain survival skills. These are things they don’t teach you in any education class or during the orientation session.

1. Wear baggy clothing: Reduces the effect of all attacks except the Face Slap. Nullifies biting.
2. Keep your back to the wall: Nullifies kancho and butt punch. Expect attacks on crotch to increase as the primary target has been removed.
3. Know where your students are at all times: Decreases likelihood of an attack succeeding.
4. Take a hostage: Decreases all frontal attacks. Nullifies boob grab, boob punch, and biting. Powerful defense.
5. Hide in the teachers’ room: Nullifies all attacks. Beware of the Rogue, who can still attack but will suffer unknown penalty later on.

As a final note, I should state that, despite these frequent attacks on my posterior’s integrity, I really do like going to the various preschools. Most of the time, the kids actually enjoy learning English, something the majority of junior high school students hate. Plus, the kids are so cute it’s hard to stay annoyed at those vicious little fingers for long. But I’m fairly certain that even back in the US, whenever I see a cute little Asian kid, I’ll be keeping my back to the wall.