School Life (Part 2 of a Series)

Things a Japanese student must own at Kizaki Junior High School:

Athletic shoes. One pair for each year.
Indoor shoes. One pair for each year.
A formal uniform.
A track suit.
A canvas backpack.
An apron.
A head scarf.
A bicycle.
A bicycle helmet.

I know that Japan has an enormous middle class, but the required costs to attend Japanese public school surprise me. Many families only buy one formal uniform to last for the duration of middle school, meaning that first years swim in baggy suits, and third years are close to bursting out of their jackets. Even in elementary school the costs are outrageous. The usual leather backpack can cost hundreds of dollars. I also wonder about the cost of books. Kizaki doesn't use hardback books like I had in middle school. Each student gets a small, floppy book that is theirs to keep and write in.

I wonder what measures are in place to help a family who can't afford the hundreds of dollars needed to set up a proper school life for their child. I asked about it once, but was met with confusion and misunderstanding. Poverty is hidden in Japan. While in Tokyo I never saw a homeless person. Images of affluence are everywhere. I wonder if there is a greater shame and stigma associated with being poor in Japan as compared to being poor in other countries due to Japan's social ideal of group uniformity and efficiency.

It's My First Day

The speech went well. The morning started rough though. I arrived 10 minutes early, but when I walked through the door all of the teachers were already there and the vice-principal was mid-speech. I scurried to my seat, and pretended to listen to the Japanese. I used the time to go over my own speech. At 9:10 the opening ceremony started. We walked to the gym where the 300 kids were milling. Teachers led their homerooms to their designated places. Kids sat cross-legged on the floor. Teachers stood behind them. The set-up made me feel more relaxed. These kids weren't to be feared, they were little middle-schoolers who weren't even allowed chairs. After the singing of the national anthem (or the school song, who knows?), the vice-principal and principal gave long speeches. Then it was my turn. I followed the principal up the stairs to the stage and podium. I bowed every time he did. One bow to the VP, one to the empty stage, one to the audience, one to each other. I managed to say the whole speech from memory without stumbling, so good for me.

My bit was the end of the ceremony. Kids were dispersed, and I went back to the staff room. I worked on my self-introduction lesson, which I give tomorrow to four classes. That's another belly of worry. I worry about my timing. Will I run over? Conclude too soon? Will kids raise their hands? Be engaged? What will I do if no one responds? I'll figure it out tomorrow, but I'm hoping it doesn't turn out badly.

Another note about school. I would hate to be a girl at Kizaki middle school. Imagine being thirteen and required to wear a heavy, navy, pleated skirt to mid-calf, a white blouse with rounded collar, the ugliest vest/shirt in heavy navy fabric, a droopy thin ribbon tie, and school issued shoes. And to boot, your tie and shoes are color coded by grade. Yellow for the newbies. Red for the 2nd years. Blue for the cool cats on top. I hope they change out of those uniforms almost as soon as they leave school grounds.