Here's to Sensei

I'm not the best student; I'll be the first to admit it. My southern, underfunded public high school wasn't exactly the most stimulating environment... but instead of using that frustration to motivate myself, I instead sunk into apathy and complacency, taking it for granted that I could be the best without doing my best. Tragic, really. My teachers (most of whom I loved), family and peers may have thought I was a great student, but only I knew my real potential, and by denying that I lied to them, people who were important to me... and cheated myself in the long run.

Because when I got to Princeton (where I came to refer to myself as "the lower end of average") needless to say, I felt out of my league. I don't mean to imply that everyone else at Princeton was brilliant and motivated - when it comes to slackers and arrogant pricks, it has just as many as any other institution (maybe more in the case of the latter) - just that environment makes a huge difference. By being in contact with just a few people with a contagious enthusiasm for intellectual inquiry, I re/discovered a part of me that had, not to be melodramatic but, atrophied. Princeton didn't turn me around completely though. Blame it on existential crises, social pressures, just plain laziness, whatever; I did my share of going to class unprepared or skipping altogether. (Ironically, college was where I learned not only to care but also to skip class.) But Princeton and the people there who took part in my education were a beginning for me, and I like to think, no, I *know* that I'm not the only student who can say that.

So to the victims of Rate My Professors and contributors of Rate Your Students, I hope most of the time you put the negative noise in perspective and realize that you've probably had a better effect on your kids than you are led to believe. At the same time, I hope you can remember, not only how you felt as a student, but also how others around you felt. Surely you can recall a variety of circumstances that negatively affected a variety of people. Add to that the fact that many students can not or do not separate their studies from other aspects of their lives during college... it can be overwhelming, and if they take it out on you and/or your class, it's unfortunate but not necessarily personal. And then of course, stupid people say stupid things (and young, immature people say...). I hope you don't waste a minute worrying over such remarks.

Now I'm in Japan, after graduating from Princeton, studying for my own reasons and loving it at International Christian University in Tokyo. I'm in an Intensive Japanese Language class for 280 minutes a day, five days a week with fifteen other students from abroad. In ICU's Japanese Language Program, most students are undergraduates, a few are like me, a few are trying to improve their job prospects back home, and a few are formally graduate students. Needless to say, the atmosphere is very different for me, because for most people it seems to be less about exploration and inquiry and more about instant/self-gratification. Even that I think I could handle though, if it weren't for the way we (I'm sure I'm guilty too in some way) treat our sensei.

280 minutes a day, five days a week is a lot, and though five sensei share the duties, they (especially Suzuki-sensei, the head sensei) put in *a lot* of time and effort - constantly asking for feedback, trying to devise new ways to help us learn the material, asking after our health and happiness (particularly if we miss class). They hold our hands to an extent that embarrasses me (because, and I'm sure many of you agree, I believe it should be the students' responsibility). And we repay them by coming unprepared, speaking rudely, skipping class... it makes me sick and ashamed to be associated with the guilty parties as a fellow student. We represent our respective countries, our respective schools, (in my case) our respective funding organization, but we only seem able to think about ourselves.

Today after class, for a project due next Monday, my group gathered outside the classroom door to discuss our course of action. Suzuki-sensei on her way out saw us and, I think, was shocked to see some of her students *working.* Sanbe-sensei was also nearby, and they exchanged looks and said, "Good students, aren't they?" (To be honest, the number they referred to is ambiguous since there is no plural in Japanese, but I will go ahead and assume they were referring to the three of us standing there.) Suzuki-sensei then bowed and said (I'm not a translator, so I apologize for nuance lost), "I humbly thank you for being allowed to teach you." It broke my heart (and being less-than-eloquent and unable to truly convey my feelings in reply was more frustrating than ever). Worse, I can't help but think that the *meaning* of that statement would have been lost on the rest of my classmates. So here's my tribute to Suzuki-sensei and the rest of her team. Maybe their Japanese-ness enables (or forces) them to bear the following quietly, but I have no such compunction.

1: Maybe you decided to speak only in casual speech out of principle (i.e. "Everyone is equal therefore I will speak to everyone in the same way"). Your condescending attitude implies otherwise. So when Sensei subtly corrects your casual speech (which is rude when speaking to a sensei), pay attention. Furthermore, yeah, we know you studied Chinese before and therefore know more kanji than most of us. That doesn't make you better than the rest of the class (certainly not better than Sensei); it just means you have more experience. Instead of using it to show off, why don't you help the rest of us learn? Oh, and, there's more to the language than kanji. Why don't you listen to yourself talk?

2: Part of studying abroad is learning to appreciate and respect other cultures. That means using honorific speech when it's appropriate, not because you think it's funny. And just because Sensei only speaks in Japanese in Japanese class (go figure) doesn't mean she can't understand when you joke about or debate out loud whether or not you'll come to class in English.

And now I should do as I say and finish my homework.