sports festival - sano elementary

Way back when I lived and worked in Taiwan, I remember the day when my kids came into class wearing gym clothes covered in dirt and student names. I asked about this, and my kids told me they'd had sports day at school. At the time, I nodded and said, "Ah, okay," because I understood the basic concept of sports day, but as to what actually happened at one, I was completely clueless.

Fast forward to today. Because I work at three schools, I'll have the unique opportunity to attend three different versions of Sports Festival. Or at least, one full sports festival and half of two others. Although I'm not required to attend any of these Sports Festivals, I want to anyway. Part of the reason I was so excited to work in public Japanese schools was because of the disconnect I'd felt from the lives of my kids in Taiwan. I'd had no idea what the daily lives of my Taiwanese students were like, and that made me feel like I couldn't understand them as well. School is an enormous part of their lives, and understanding that part requires that I attend and participate in the events and activities that happen outside of class time.

Sano elementary school is about a five minute drive from my house, which makes it about a seven or eight minute walk. I was warned the parking lots would be crowded, so I walked to the school at around 7:45am Saturday morning. (I woke up at 6:40am. I know. On Saturday.) Parents, teachers, and most of the kids were already there, even though opening ceremonies didn't start until 9:15.

Sports Festival took place out back of the school, in the giant dust bowl that constitutes the playground and activity area for everyday gym class. A racetrack had already been painted on the ground in the dry, packed dirt, and white tents set up for the kids and teachers to sit under while they waited for their events. Parents had brought their own chairs and tents, which they set up in the grassy areas and along the dusty sidelines of the playground.

Almost everyone had brought a camera. Posting pictures of children online without explicit permission is pretty much illegal in Japan, but photos for personal use and family memories are perfectly fine.

Having watched my kids practicing for Sports Festival all week, some of the presentations in the opening and closing ceremonies were already familiar. The principal made a speech, the kids did some group cheers, and then they all sang a song. For the entirety of it, they stood in a lines in front of the podium, grouped by class and grade. On one half of the field were first, third, and fifth graders, and on the other half, second, fourth, and sixth graders. (Ichi-nen, san-nen, and go-nen, and then ni-nen, yo-nen, and roku-nen, respectively.) Each time a new presenter climbed the podium, the presenter (student or adult) would bow, and the kids would bow back in unison. I understood very little of what was said, but after a month in Japan, I'm rather used to that by now.

The opening ceremonies set the theme for the rest of the day: fun, light-hearted, and with a focus on group participation and cooperation, all while maintaining due deference and respect to others. There were general, short races done in a series of quick-fire heats, where the first, second, and third place students of each heat were lined up accordingly and presented with ribbons after the event. There were also baton relay races and obstacle course races, and races just for fun. (Like having the ichinensei (first graders) push a soft ball twice their size down a lane and back, or having the fifth graders drag each other along on car tires, which I'd seen them practice earlier in the week.)

I was spontaneously nudged into helping out with one event that involved the kids picking up signs that had (I assume) things like "a teacher" or "a parent" or "a boy/girl" on it, and someone who fit that description had to grab the kid's hand and run with them to the finish line. It was difficult for me to help with this because I couldn't read anything (it was all kanji and hiragana), so mostly I waited for a teacher to push me out and point, "There, there!" at a student. I ran three times, and one time my kid and I came in third, so she got to join the "third place" line and get a ribbon.

Aside from helping with that race and assisting with the clean-up after Sports Festival was over, a majority of what I did that day was just watch, which was nice. I'd been nervous about today, which lead to me getting a very restless night's sleep and making me feel, if not physically tired, definitely in need of a brain re-boot. (I came home afterward and crashed for three hours.) The day was enjoyable, though. It was great to see the smiles on my kids' faces when they saw I was there, and I got to converse with one student's dad about how I was liking Japan and what equivalents to Sports Festival we had in America. (I couldn't think of anything, can anyone else? Some elementary schools have "oh hey it's almost summer let's have a carnival day" events, but nothing annual that occurs in all American schools.) Sports Festival concluded around 2:30pm, and it was another hour of cleaning up chairs, tents, tables, and assorted sports paraphernalia before we were able to go home.

It may sound self-conscious to say that I hope my time at Sports Festival left a good impression on my students, their parents, and my co-workers at Sano, but I really hope it did. I feel invested in the school as a member of its community and I want everyone to know that. I want them to know that even though I'm a foreign instructor contracted by an outside company, I'm invested in the well-being of the students and I intend to pull my weight as a member of the community on the days I'm at work--and even on days when I'm not getting paid, like today.

Sports Festival, finally, was an education on what matters in Japanese culture. Although there were winners and not-winners, although some students got ribbons and some didn't, although the day was called Sports Festival, competition in sports was not what the day was all about. Competition was besides the point. The point of Sports Festival is to solidify the feeling of community among the students, teachers, and parents. Moreover, it's an opportunity to emphasize how important that inclusion and participation in community events is to Japanese people, thereby teaching the kids how to be more Japanese. Despite the excitement and organized chaos of the day's events, the chaos was most definitely organized, systematically executed, and done in a precise, specific manner. While American student sports events are there for the students to display how capable they've become as individuals (or as individual teams) in their particular sport, Japanese Sports Festival is intended to have the students show the community their ability to come together to create something bigger than themselves--such as a dance routine or a song. Even the individual events themselves wouldn't have been possible if all the students hadn't come and participated. The effectiveness of Sports Festival only happens when everyone comes and plays a part.

As I think I've said before, although this way of thinking can be detrimental sometimes, it's also a very peaceful and comforting way to live. American culture is driven by trying to stand out. As someone who's introverted, non-confrontational, and rather hates the pressure of having to "stand up, shout out, be different, raise your voice!" all the time, knowing that contributing to the group and participating as a community member will get you brownie points is kind of nice. Moreover, it's nice to be in a culture where even if my foreign status prevents me from ever entering the true inner circle of Japanese community inclusion, it's a nice change to join a community where similarity is key to group cohesion, rather than feeling like you have to find your own individualism in a sea of individuals and still make it work. As an American who has been cultivating definitive individualism her entire life, sinking into the group is a little like a vacation.

So Sports Festival was definitely awesome. I can't wait for Mitanda and Kouya's, so I can see the difference among the schools. Sano school is monstrously large, while Mitanda is dinky and Kouya in the middle, so I'm interested to see how that will affect the atmosphere.

Tomorrow I'm attending a multi-cultural event where I'll be able to take (and post) more pictures. I'm going to go sleep so I'll be more coherent for tomorrow than I was today!

evening weather

The wind is blasting through Hitachinaka and rustling the trees outside my window. Meanwhile the sun is burning itself out on the Western horizon, sending streaks of gold and neon red across my floor just before it dies away. Some kids bike by and shout to each other, Japanese words I can't understand but the sound of carefree kids is universal. It's Friday. Tomorrow I'll be up at 6:40am to dress, eat, and walk to Sano Elementary School by 7:30, when they'll begin preparations for Sports Festival. It promises to be a long Saturday. For now, though, both windows in my apartment are open, the overcast sky is fading to purple and blue, and cool wind smelling of the earlier passing storm is wafting into my bedroom.

It's the kind of evening that makes me want to fall asleep early, and after a week of teaching, it's no wonder I'm tired. The week was good, though. Not great, but not bad. Monday's school is full of students who are allergic to listening, but Tuesday through Friday I have classes of kids who sit up, listen, and repeat any nonsense I throw at them. They've all been hot, tired, and hungry this week from practicing for Sports Festival. All the schools have presentations and opening ceremonies full of acrobatics, flags, cheers, and songs, so the kids have been outside half the week standing in line, marching around, and shouting various things in unison. In addition, air conditioning is a limited resource, so open windows and blowing fans are the most the schools will do to combat the warmth and rising humidity of midday. My kids have been looking at me with tired eyes and heat-pinked faces, wondering why I'm making them recite the 12 months in English. Again.

They're troopers, my kids.

jaded in japan

Expats who've been living in Japan a while will act like the newcomer delight in Japan is some kind of delusion we'll eventually recover from. Long-term expats in Japan label themselves as "jaded," and tell new expats they'll end up there eventually.