Importing Diversity: Inside Japan's JET Program (43 page)

On the one hand, the introduction of team teaching has led to great
change in English education in Japan: one can go into any classroom and
find the ALTs leading activities that never before seemed possible in the
public school system. On the other hand, the degree to which Japanese
teachers mark off these classes as distinct, both linguistically and conceptually, reveals that team teaching is best viewed as a type of situational accommodation rather than as marking a wholesale change in attitude.

CULTURAL CLASH AND CHANGE

Many ALTs work hard, in ways small as well as large, to remake Japanese
culture into something closer to their own expectations of how things
ought to be. Their daily behavior reflects deliberate choices and makes a
clear symbolic statement. Male ALTs may make it a point to serve tea in
the office. Others will protest against smoking etiquette or deliberately tell
students of best friends who are minorities in order to test preconceptions.
As an ALT recalled, "When I told them my best friend was Korean they
nearly died. That's something they'll remember for the rest of their lives."
Some JET participants also consciously strive not to exhibit any characteristics that would reinforce the stereotypes about their nationality, even
lying on occasion. One ALT told me that when asked whether she'd had
steak the night before, she said she'd had fish and rice-but she really had
eaten hamburgers for dinner. And a couple decided to get married earlier
than they had planned in response to those in their village who felt that
their cohabitation was morally improper.

A critical stance toward Japanese culture even comes through in workshops designed by the ALTs to help improve the English of Japanese teachers. Consider the following questions, which were used to guide informal
discussion at a "team-teaching workshop":

i. Why do Japanese give empty compliments (for example, when a
foreigner can say a few words of Japanese: "Ahh, jozu desune!" [You speak
very well])?

2. Why are Japanese so surprised when a foreigner likes sushi or natto
[fermented soybeans] ?

3. Why do Japanese ask so many personal questions?

4. How do you feel when a gaijin sits next to you on the bus or train?

5. Why do the Japanese feel so unique as a nation when every other
nation on earth is just as unique as Japan?

6. What meaning does the emperor of Japan have for you? Is the family of Korean descent?

7. With all their wealth, why don't Japanese. families have necessary
conveniences like dishwashers and clothesdryers (or is this a secret plan to
keep Japanese women busy in the home)?

The clear message is that Japanese are too invested in their own culture for
their own good. Speaking English requires the development of a critical
frame of mind. In many of their criticisms, ALTs are implicitly demanding
that the Japanese reconstitute themselves and their society in ways more
compatible with Western norms and expectations.

Resistance

JTLs employed a variety of strategies to cushion the impact of the ALTs'
visit and to lessen their potential for disruption. To be sure, powerful forces
were marshaled on the side of change, and the term kokusaika contains a
moral imperative. Moreover, most JTLs believe that they should be able to
speak better English, conduct team-taught classes, and interact with ALTs.
Yet the majority of JTLs-ambivalent or with private reservations about
the JET Program-often found themselves being expected to change social
routines and established behaviors. Though such uncomfortable transitions are a natural part of learning something new, considerable effort is
needed to overcome the inertia of set patterns; and inevitably one feels
compelled on occasion to reject the practical implication of an idea that
sounded good in the abstract. JTLs who do not want to "be international"
resist in subtle and not-so-subtle ways.

Simple avoidance is one common response. Some ALTs reported that
they didn't find out certain Japanese staff were English teachers until
months into their school visits. At one school's meeting to evaluate team
teaching that I attended, the JTL who was most uncomfortable with the
program arrived just as the meeting was ending, in gym clothes, explaining that he'd been tied up by club responsibilities. A twenty-eight-year-old
JTL related a similar case at his school: "Once last semester all the English
teachers decided to attend an ESS club activity together with the ALT.
Everyone came except the head teacher, who took sick leave. He did it
twice, actually. He was very worried because he doesn't speak English well
at all. I understand his case, though. There's a big gap between teachers
aged twenty to thirty and those over forty." Such avoidance can, of course,
subject one to gossip and rumor among one's colleagues as well as the
ALTs, but some JTLs clearly prefer that to confronting a potentially awkward situation.

Another approach is to reinterpret current practice so that it fits within
the rubric of "internationalization." Japan has a long history of repackaging foreign ideas and objects to make them compatible with Japanese sensibilities. At one team-teaching workshop I heard a JTL eloquently defend
direct translation as a teaching method (a method ALTs criticize mercilessly), arguing that it allows students to become familiar with foreign
ways of thinking and thus contributes in its own way to internationalization. This glossing of existing behavior to match the demands of being a
good global citizen is ubiquitous in the JET Program.

Perhaps the most common strategy is simply to capitulate to some extent to the demands of the ALT, ignoring the inconvenience as much as
possible. In spite of widespread talk about the importance of letting the
ALT know his or her proper place (ichizuke), many JTLs seem willing to go
to extraordinary lengths to avoid direct confrontations. Perseverance
(gaman) in the face of adversity is often celebrated as a virtue for Japanese
students and teachers alike, and with the frequent rotation of ALTs, a JTL
can rest content in the knowledge that a particular irritant won't last forever. I was told of an older JTL who was confronted by a young female ALT:
she told him point-blank that his English class was terrible. The idea that
this "child" would have the gall to tell him how to teach sent him into a
rage, but he never once showed his anger to the ALT. When a younger colleague offered to talk to the ALT for him, the older JTL refused, saying,
"It's only three more weeks. Let's just put up with it till she's gone."

Special Treatment

Most JET participants find themselves coping not only with subtle resistance but also with the special treatment extended to them. Nearly all must
learn to deal with celebrity status and what some of them dubbed the
"panda mentality," referring to the tendency of their Japanese hosts to fuss
over them in the same way a zookeeper might give special care to one of his
prized pandas. In conversation and in their writings, JET participants incessantly refer to the tendency of schoolchildren to stare, gawk, and, as one
ALT put it, "view you like you just descended from another planet." Even
Wada Minoru in the Ministry of Education recognized this dimension of
local behavior: "When an ALT shows up at a school, the teachers and principal bow their heads and idolize them (suhai no kimochi). Getting past
this attitude is the biggest challenge for internationalization."

Though some ALTs seemed to enjoy this unusual attention, in the long
run many resented the concomitant lack of privacy and seeming denial of their individuality. They were irritated that their daily whereabouts
seemed to be public knowledge, and they expressed annoyance when students would ask overly personal questions during the obligatory selfintroduction and question-and-answer session in a new class. Some even
went so far as to publish lists of the questions they would refuse to answer.
Others wrote letters, such as the one below, to the JET Journal or to the English language newspapers in Japan complaining about their treatment:

As the local foreigner I am expected to attend every international event
that occurs in my city. Far from an exchange of culture these gatherings
have a tendency to be one-sided affairs where my foreignness is put on
display for all to see. Rather than an increased understanding of different cultural groups, such international gatherings tend to reinforce
slanted views and skewed perceptions about other cultures because they
negate the person and focus on the culture and country of origin which
effectively puts the "Gaijin on Parade." ... While on parade my only
viability comes from my non-native status, causing me to feel as if I am
being paraded around for no other purpose but to fulfill the visual component of an international meeting, talk, gathering or party.26

Indeed, outsiders or marginal people in any organization or small, tightknit community may be treated similarly.'- Because JET participants were
visible as members of a category, their actions carried extra symbolic consequences; their behavior was interpreted as representative of that category-indicating not their individual personalities but "the way their nationality is." One ALT offered a humorous account of the phenomenon:

"Which do you prefer, tea or coffee?" This question is one of many I
face in my capacity as an ALT: representative of a foreign country and
counsel on all matters pertaining to that country's society, economy,
history and general trivia. As JETs it is true: we are ambassadors of a
sort. On this, what I call the "Morning Break Question," I stick to a
middle of the road answer. I like both. It's true, and nothing to be
ashamed or embarrassed about. However, when I answer in this way I
am invariably met with a stunned response. One colleague, Mr. H, was
fairly shocked at my answer. He went on to explain, "Well, as you
know, all Americans prefer to drink coffee, and tea is the drink of the
English. How about Australians?" "Well, we drink both." "Ah-ha," my
friend nodded wisely. "So in Australia you are half British, half American way."

She also described occasions on which teachers expected her to conform to
the stereotype of Australians as heavy beer drinkers and further ques tioned her on which way the washing machines spin in Australia and
whether snowmen are made with two balls (as in Japan) or three (the
American model). While she appreciated the teachers' desire for knowledge, a nagging doubt persisted:

Nevertheless I can't help but notice how my answers are taken to reflect Australians as a whole. If I say or do something in a certain way,
then it is the Australian way. Very often, no matter what I might say in
protest, such a conclusion will be drawn. It's almost like a full-stop; end
of conversation.... Surely saying "All Americans drink coffee" or "All
Australians drink beer because their former Prime Minister is in the
Guinness Book of Records for the fastest swilling of a yard glass" are
harmless enough examples in themselves. Yet what of the principle, the
mindset behind them? Is it not the same mindset that leads one to say
that all people from X country are fascists or homicidal or warmongering or carry guns? To a black extreme, isn't that the basis of
propaganda, and what makes it work? Clearly I'm stretching the point
... and there are no clear-cut earth-shattering conclusions for me to
make here either. It is simply another of the many things I have been
forced to think about ever since I became Therese the beer-swilling,
two-ball snowmanmaking, tea AND coffee-drinking Australian, instead
of just plain old Therese.28

Therese might also have noted that this tendency to see individuals as embodying national distinctiveness does not apply exclusively to foreigners.
The Japanese media elevated Hideo Nomo, their first countryman to make
a successful debut in U.S. major league baseball, to goodwill ambassador
and representative of all things Japanese.

The ALTs were also treated as symbols on those occasions when, regardless of their experience or expertise, they were asked to talk on the inescapable theme, "[fill in the country's] view of Japan." In these situations
they were expected to be speaking not just for themselves but for their nationality more generally. Some ALTs seized on such opportunities to represent all JET participants or all foreigners and to critique Japanese society;
they welcomed the sense of power and prestige that comes with being in
the limelight. Yet nagging doubts about the grounds for their special treatment always remained.

Moreover, their token and symbolic status constantly threatened to assume sole importance. The ALTs often captured attention for reasons
wholly unrelated to their job performance. For example, even though approximately 15 to 20 percent of JET participants have had some teaching
experience prior to coming to Japan, JTLs do not, by and large, use them any differently than they use those without teaching experience. The reluctance of many prefectures to match ALTs with teaching credentials to
schools where their talents can be employed is particularly striking in light
of complaints by some JTLs that the ALTs are too young and inexperienced
and that the government should send qualified teachers.

Yet another feature of being treated as symbols was that JET participants had to prove themselves as individuals in every new context. In particular, those who had been in the program for two or three years complained that the Japanese whom they met rarely picked up on such
nonverbal cues as dress, demeanor, and the like as indicators of their level
of acculturation; instead, only their physical appearance was noted. As a result, whenever they left the communities and schools in which they were
known, they were unwillingly thrust back into the role of the generic gaijin. Most ALTs also found that displays of competence in mastering Japanese language and culture were commented on and treated as special precisely because they were unexpected. They were praised most often for
their ability to speak any Japanese, regardless of fluency, and to use chopsticks. The compliments themselves underscored the perceived rarity of the
accomplishment, and ALTS quickly tired of repeatedly enacting this ritual.