A shakedown is coming for the Toyama-Ken JET community; as those of us who are not re-contracting leave, the government silently absorbs a few of our jobs here and there. It has now been decreed that every public school JET be teaching regularly at a minimum of two separate schools every week. Overall, the number of JET’s here will shrink next year. Those in the public High School system, who are generally pretty busy to begin with, will now have even more work. This makes them a little pissed. Here’s the thing though. Guess how much this will effect whoever takes over my job?

None. Not at all.

I’m private. I do nothing to begin with, and as of next year my replacement will continue to do very little work, all the while he (and it will be a guy) will be living five minutes from the one and only school he is required to teach at. I went from having to teach 11 hours in one week to having to teach twelve this semester. Whoopdie-do. Meanwhile we got guys like Dave Edwards teaching half of my weekly scheduled hours in one day, and they are making whoever his replacement is pile on a few more for good measure next year.

Please don’t mistake my tone here. You might think I am genuinely shocked at how superfluous I am, or perhaps that I am even disappointed at how little of an impact I will be making on the children I try to teach. No no no. I’m laughing all the way to the bank. And I really do. Once a month. I laugh the entire trip. On my scooter.

Hahaha! Turn left out of the apartment!

Hahaha! Turn right at the first stop light!

Hahaha! Go straight!

Hahaha! Turn right into the bank!

Hahaha! Deposit! Deposit! DEPOSIT!!!

Koho does not need me. My job here is just barely justified, and that is a fact. The only worthwhile thing I think I do here is show the kids that Americans are living breathing people, and not all of us pack heat all the time. However, for the sake of my successor and whoever follows him, I hope they don’t figure it out for a long time. Koho is a delightful little school full of zany teachers and madcap children. It’s like Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory for Slightly Slow Children. They also give me a lot of freedom. Others should be so lucky.

But anyway, on to today’s topic: It’s finally happened. School has started once again. While it’s true that I teach only 12 hours a week, I had become accustomed to the lifestyle of teaching virtually nothing for four months. Since I came back from the US in December, I would venture to say that I’ve taught perhaps three collective weeks of normal classes. It’s time to change that, however. The new kids are here. The new teachers are here. We’ve had the “first contact” ceremony between the old students and the new students, where they all line up facing each other in the gym and yell out a few things and bow. It’s reminiscent of High Noon. Or, I suppose since they never actually touch each other at all and it’s very choreographed, it’s a bit more like West Side Story. Anyway, the point is: It’s Game Time.

It is such Game Time that they have asked us all to update our personal slogans that go on our nametags. I’m going to take you through the slogans that we in the English Department have chosen for our nametags:

First we have Sakai-Sensei. She is very smart, and has a very good, working knowledge of the English language. It is reflected in her nametag:


Look at that! The comma is in the right place! The apostrophes are correctly positioned as well! On top of that, it’s a good slogan. Well done Sakai, well done.


Next we have Morioka-Sensei:

What this boils down to is “Do Your Best Everyday.” You can see the “best.” It’s sort of a hybrid thing, cheating a little, but whatever. The kids can’t read English anyway.


Now, Mochizuki-Sensei:


Not quite sure what she’s going for here, but I appreciate the effort and the one-hundred percent English. I think what she wanted to say was something to the effect of “Let’s all do our best!” but, of course, what came out was a command for all the students to do her best. Come to think of it, that sort of makes sense in a strange way, I suppose.

Next we have Nakada-Sensei:

Simple. Effective. A little bit David Brent-ish, perhaps, but good nonetheless. What are we if not sincere?

Here was my slogan last year:


Lame. Boring and lame. Generic, off-the-shelf, contrived trash. I swore I would do better next time. Look at the care-bear style stickers. I was ashamed.


Here is my slogan this year:


That’s the ticket! Look at the bold blue lettering! No exclamation mark for me. No sir. Even the sparkly stickers now take on a new meaning, it’s like “Hi new kids! My name is Brad, I’m a friendly, approachable white boy! Look at my hair! It’s spun from gold! Come on into class and take a seat! Have a sticker! FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION.

Hilarious on several levels, not the least of which is because “failure” is a VERY PROBABLE OPTION here. Absolutely no-one else gets the joke though. Story of my life.