Author Archives: DELively

Sometimes It’s Just Too Easy

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Today was the first day of exams, which is kind of confusing since classes aren’t finished yet.

Basically, in the school where I work, the high school third graders (US 12th grade) graduate two-thirds of the way through the year. In order to do this, a few things happen:

First, the students finish early (classes finished last week) and start exams.

Second, if anyone is going to fail it gives the powers what are a chance to pressure the teacher into changing the marks/giving a second and/or third chance. There is no rhyme or reason for this, except possibly money (but that’s just me being cynical) or sending good athletes to university (also me being cynical).

Third, the early schedule allows time for a quick make-up examination that is part of the pressure from the second reason.

Whatever the reason, there’s a a lot of pressure to pass the students and, in defense of the school, most of the students are going to pass anyway. In fact, the only way to fail is to not attend class, although exceptions have been made for that (see second reason above).

Part of the problem in my class is that most of the points are based on work and performances done in class. However, I’m still expected to give a final exam. To help mitigate this, I make the final exam worth only 25% of the final score and let students know, within reason, what will be on it. Also, because there’s not a lot of grammar, my final exam is pretty easy as there’s not a lot to study. If anyone fails it’s because they fell asleep and didn’t finish all the questions.

By the middle of December, the students know if they are going to graduate or not. There is much rejoicing.

There is, however, one final twist. Although they know they are going to graduate, and although no more scores are given, the students are expected–sort of–to attend classes at least two more times in January.

Of course, it doesn’t really matter if they don’t as there’s no way to punish them.

The Apple Falls at the Last Minute Near the Tree

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She Who Must Be Obeyed was angry at our oldest today. Naturally, it was my fault.

This is the time of year when pressure hits from school and, in our oldest’s case, her clubs. It’s exam time, study time and, for reasons understood only by music teachers, performance time in brass band club and with her piano lessons. Eventually, something gives, and that something has been studying. Or at least our oldest thinks that’s what’s going to give.

She Who Must Be Obeyed entered an epic rant backed up by evidence and displayed for a jury of one (me). Her evidence was our oldest’s study charts. Basically, two weeks before exams, each student is given a sheet of paper that acts as a planner. They are supposed to map out their study schedules and then record their actual study time.

She Who Must Be Obeyed pointed out that according to her schedule, our oldest tended to study a little at first and then (LOOK HERE!) she studies a lot in the last few days before the test. (It is STUPID. It doesn’t make sense!) She had two tests worth of proof and two blank days with no studying on the current schedule.

It was at this point that I placed the blame on nature rather than nurture. I pointed out that our oldest’s schedule pretty much matched my normal study schedule:

Deny, Deny, Deny, Panic, Deny, Panic, Accept, Stay Up Late, Study.

In fact, that pretty much describes every paper I wrote at university. (Except you have to add “research” before and after “Stay Up Late” and change “Study” to “Write”.) We’ve helped her skip past a couple of the “Deny” phases by confiscating and hiding her Nintendo 3DS, but this has added a level of “Anger” and “Terrible Twos” to the mix.

Naturally, this tendency toward putting off the inevitable has been part of my genetic contribution to our oldest’s psyche and will have a great influence on her as she enters “The Age of Perfect Knowledge of Everything (and my parents are stupid)” (ages 14-25). I told She Who Must Be Obeyed that our oldest would eventually grow out of it. (Since girls develop faster than boys, she’ll probably grow out of it before I do.)

She Who Must Be Obeyed didn’t consider nature a valid excuse. I’ll worry about that later, naturally.

 

Just Because You’re Sick Doesn’t Mean They Aren’t Out to Get You

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When the issue is carefully examined, there’s little doubt that my children are trying to kill me.

They don’t necessarily realize they are doing it, and the way they are going about it is quite inefficient, but they are doing it nonetheless.

This is partly my fault, as I allowed them to 1) go outside and 2) attend school. (Yeah, there’s that “send your kids to school or you go to jail thing” but that just means the girls have accomplices.)

While they are out, especially when they are in school, the bring home lots of germs. Those germs are then transferred to She Who Must Be Obeyed who then transfers it to me. (Does that make her an accomplice too? I’ll have to think about that.) In fact, the most colds I’ve ever got happened in rapid succession after our oldest started kindergarten. The illnesses tapered off a bit and then our youngest started kindergarten and the cycle of illness started again.

Now the culprit is their selfish desire to “go outside” and “do things” and “have their parent’s watch”. The result of this is that She Who Must Be Obeyed and I travel to various crowded facilities where we are exposed to illnesses from other children and their parents, illnesses we’ve not yet developed immunity to. (The other families are out to get me too?)

Yesterday, for example, we went to a Rhythmic Gymnastics competition with our youngest. Today, I’ve got a fever and received a couple visits from my “Albanian Friend“. I had to cancel my karate class, which angered my karate sensei (who recently discovered email but hasn’t learned to spend all his time on his phone checking it).

Now, I’m putting this post out early so that I can get some sleep. I’m not sure I like doing that, though, when our girls are still awake.

I’d tell them to go to bed first, but that would just earn me an eye roll, from pretty much everyone else in the room.

 

This Competion is Not a Sport

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Today we watched freezing pixies compete in a competition whilst we tried to stay warm and pretend we were interested.

Today was the annual competition for our youngest’s Rhythmic Gymnastics club. We chose this club because we knew she needed an outlet for her energy and because she liked to dance and is naturally flexible. We also chose it because it didn’t require the personal loans and endless debt involved in putting her in ballet lessons.

Rhythmic Gymnastics is one of those competitions that suffers because its appearance overwhelms its substance. What the competitors due requires balance, flexibility and stamina. If they are using props it requires hand eye coordination and timing. The problem is it all looks so silly, especially when props are involved. It’s also had to take seriously a sport where the competitors lose points if their hair bun comes lose. (Well, technically that’s true in Sumo, too, but, well.)

This same thing applies to Synchronized Swimming which, physically, is one of the most challenging competitions in the Olympics. It just looks silly. (At least in Rhythmic Gymnastics the competitors don’t wear Halloween mask nose plugs.)

The other issue, in the case of your youngest’s club, is that for reasons I don’t fully understand, Japan believes all gymnasiums (gymnasia?) should be unheated in winter. This means the competitors have to practice and perform on a cold floor in a cold gym (sit on a cold floor in your underwear and you’ll understand the pain they suffer) while the audience also freeze. To make matters worse, the benches in the gymnasium were designed for small people and had low backs, as if they were spare bus stop benches the builders happened to have lying around.

Our youngest got 16.30 points out of 20, which put her in the top half of the competitors but way out of the top 10. Although she has a lot of fun doing the performances, she’s still a bit sloppy. She doesn’t stop her spins crisply and her jumps still seem more lazy than strong.

Most importantly, though, her hair stayed in its bun.

The Panic Caused By Old Things

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Last week our oldest came home from school in a panic. The panic was caused by technology and it was partly our fault.

The week before our oldest asked us if she could take our “new” video camera to school to record brass band practice. (Note: New, for us, means “made in 21st century”.) We, of course, said no. We weren’t going to let her take the camera to school, especially for something that wasn’t important.

She, being a teenager, thought that asking us several times in slightly different ways would make us change our mind. Oddly, it didn’t. Instead, we compromised by sending our old video camera, complete with our last unused cassette to school with her. She Who Must Be Obeyed gave her a quick overview of its use and off to school she and the camera went.

Then, around lunch time, our oldest came rushing into the house in a panic. She did rapid fire explanation that sounded something like the “feinahattoistuhyutuuhysonocamwewoerastosot.” To which I replied, “Why are you home from practice?” Eventually I realized there was something wrong with the camera, but our oldest was in such a panic she just kept repeating what she’d said before. I checked the camera and everything seemed fine.

Our oldest, however, being a teenager and therefore assuming I must be an idiot, ignored me and took She Who Must Be Obeyed’s point and shoot camera. An hour or so later, our oldest came rushing back with an explanation similar to the one before. This time, for some reason, there was no sound on the playback. My response was “Why are you home from practice?”

Eventually, our oldest went to practice and stayed there. When she came home the third, and only official time, I passed her off to She Who Must Be Obeyed who, after some time, finally diagnosed the problem: Our oldest has only ever handled a digital video camera. She didn’t know you had to rewind the tape on an analogue camera before you could watch the recording.

With that solved, we got to watch the recording. That left us with two problems: 1) We couldn’t transfer it to computer for her and 2) we still don’t understand why the point and shoot didn’t record sound.

Guilty Until Proven Guilty Until Innocence Accepted

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Last week I was falsely accused of a crime that I was thinking about committing because it was something I’d frequently threatened to do.

Last Thursday, at the beginning of my sixth period class, one of my worst students was playing Some Kind Of Game (not a real game) on his PlayStation Portable. What caught my eye was 1) the bell had just rung so he should have been getting ready and 2) it was blue.

One of my classroom policies is that if I see you playing a game in class, I confiscate the device and, if you’re lucky, return it at the end of class. However, after the blue PSPs came out, I said that if I saw a blue PSP in class, it was my present and I’d never give it back.

However, this time, I told the student to put it away and he did. Sort of. I was still thinking about taking it, but I didn’t.

Then, soon after class, he came down and asked me to give him his PSP back. I pointed out that I didn’t have it and sent him back to the fourth floor to get it. I thought it was a strange encounter: had I blacked out and stolen the device but didn’t remember; or had my guilt at thinking about taking it manifested itself as actual theft in the form of invisible demons? But then stopped thinking about it before my thoughts got too crazy. Until Monday.

On Monday, my birthday no less, the same student came back to get his PSP. He had apparently 1) forgot that he’d put it in the desk; 2) had imagined me taking it and 3) spent the weekend bitching to his parents that I was a thief who had kept his PSP over the weekend. I told him, once again, I didn’t have it and told him to go back up to the fourth floor or to lost and found or find out which of his friends stole it.

Finally, today, I had that class again and the same student was there playing with his blue PSP again. I told him to put it away and he did. Then, at the end of class, I told him to make sure he had his PSP and, if he forgot it, not to blame me.

Oh, and I told him to tell his parents I’m actually awesome and not a thief.

Speak Cool

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Today the Japanese press announced the death of one of my favorite Japanese actors, Ken Takakura, also known as the Coolest Man In Japan (not a real title but he was).

Most people in the West will know him from one of two movies: Mr. Baseball with Tom Selleck and Dennis Haysbert, and Black Rain, with Michael Douglas and Andy Garcia. Neither is a particularly good movie, but I recommend Black Rain mostly because it shows off almost all of Takakura’s skills as an actor. He had a powerful screen presence, an excellent voice and he could play both bad ass and humble.  Black Rain also has, in his last role, the late Yusaku Matsuda as Sato, one of the best villains in film.

I also recommend Mount Hakkoda where Takakura plays a captain in the Japanese Imperial military in a dramatization of one of Japan’s worst mountaineering disasters. (Warning, you will feel cold watching this one. Keep the heat turned up.)

Finally I recommend the much quieter (and much slower) Poppoya, in which Takakura plays the stationmaster of a train station that’s literally the end of the line. The station is scheduled to be shutdown and he suddenly starts having visions of his late wife and daughter. Very quiet, and a bit slow, but Takakura’s presence carries this movie.  (Also, it takes place in winter. Once again, you will feel cold.)

A friend of mine also recommends  Sydney Pollack’s The Yakuza, starring Robert Mitchum and Takakura. Oddly, I’ve never actually seen this one, so I’ll be looking it up myself.

Although he’d slowed down his movie making, one of the things I liked about Ken Takakura is he never went on the countless variety shows. You only saw him at his best, not as a goofy stage prop to actors and comedians who only thought they were cool. I also like that he had a sense of gentleness and yet could turn tough and make both states seem perfectly natural.

He also, unfortunately for some, could make cigarette smoking look cool in his Speak Lark ads for Lark Cigarettes:

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Full Service Confiscation Group Punishing Education

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The worst thing you can do to punish Japanese students without getting physical is separate them from their group. The second worst thing you can do is separate them from their phones.

But I repeat myself.

The Japanese, in general, are very group oriented. Even in a large company, people who attended the same universities will form private drinking clubs separate from people who attended other universities. It would be the equivalent of getting a job with Monsanto right out of college and then being invited to join the Harvard Graduates Club while the Kansas State University Graduates Club is having much more fun (whilst bitching about Kansas University, or University OF Kansas, or, ah, hell, who cares? They are in a different club).

In school, sending a student out of the room, even in high school, is a very powerful act and even the coolest of the cool troublesome students don’t like it. They will do whatever it takes to come back in the room, even if it means actually opening the textbook for a few minutes. In junior high, it’s more problematic because, according to the law, the student has both an obligation and a right to be in the room.

The other day, in an 8th grade class, one of my worst students was staring at his crotch and smiling. Since this is not something normal people normally do, I went over to confiscate whatever he was playing with (the whole time hoping it was a phone). As soon as I got to his desk, a black iPhone disappeared into his blazer pocket. After some brief arguing and me setting up a “lunch date” where he’d get to do some extra work he handed me a blue smartphone. I said thanks and told him to give me the iPhone.

He refused and I said, more or less, “It’s a date! See you at lunch!”

I set the blue phone on my podium and, a few minutes later, had to go across the hall and make some copies of the textbook for students who’d forgot their textbooks and when I returned, the blue phone was gone.

Group homework ensued and, oddly, I managed to get the black iPhone out of the student’s blazer pocket in the best pickpocket move I’ve ever done.

This led to a meeting after class where I ended up with both phones and a convoluted “meaning of is is; if you like your doctor you can keep your doctor” explanation about how the iPhone wasn’t really turned on (in the junior high, kids may have phones but may not turn them on) and therefore I couldn’t take the phone plus it was actually the blue phone that was on and I coudl take it. I snorted “bullshit” under my breath, pointed out I can tell the difference between a black phone and a blue phone and ended up keeping both phones until the end of the day.

While I had them, I wiped the phones clean with a micro-fiber cloth and, luckily for me, both boys turned up a minute after final bell to get their phones. I promised that if I saw them again during class time, I’d keep them for a week.

Also, after my full service confiscation, even teachers are trying to get me to confiscate their phones so they can be cleaned.

1117 YoHa 39 37

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One of the curses of Japanese is that every letter and every number has multiple ways it can be pronounced but only one pronunciation is correct. That curse is also one of the fun things about Japanese.

This is called Goroawase and is often used to make phone numbers or tell jokes.

Warning: the next few paragraphs involve something resembling math.

The number 1, for example, can be pronounced “ichi” (as in “Ichiro” or “number one son”); i (as a long “e”); hito; hitotsu; or wan (as in “one”). The number “2” can be pronounced eight different ways, but for today’s purpose we’ll only use “ni” (as in the Knights Who Say Ni). The number 9 has five pronunciations, but for today we’ll use only “ku” (as in “coo coo”). When you put it all together, you can get puns. November 29, for example, is “Good meat day” because 1129 is “ii  ni ku) (ee knee coo) or “good meat”. If you say it European style you get “niku ii” or “Meat Good” which shows one of the failures of the European system.

My birthday then becomes “Veeery Good Day” Because with 1117 you have “i i i” (a stretched “good”) and “na” (pronounced with the “a” as in “father”) which is used for emphasis. But if you do it European style you get “Na iii” or “Noooooo”, confirming the failures of the European system.

My age, 48, becomes “YoHa” which isn’t funny at all. (It could also be “shiba” which also isn’t funny.)

Then you get more common jokes. 39 is “san” “kyu” or “Thank you”, which is very common in texting and social media. You also get 37 (mi na) or “everyone”.

The title of this post is a code that means Veeeery Good 48 Thank You, Everyone.

At this point, it’s bed time, so I best say “It’s time 43252 bed” or (It’s time for me to go to bed).

That Thing You Know Is Not What You Need Now

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Today in karate class I spent most of the time relearning the routine I didn’t learn last week. I didn’t learn it because what I did this week is not what I learned last week.

Confused? So was I.

On December 21 I have the test for my sixth level black belt. This involves four katas (two basic and two that cause pain); several seated defenses against punches, kicks and knife attacks; defense against knives when the person’s up close to you and holding your lapel; defense against knives when two people are up close and holding your lapels; defense against punches when being held by two people; counter defense when the guy you’re attacking with a knife messes up his defense and you get the upper hand; knife versus knife fighting and, I think, but I’m not sure, defense against swords.

All this wouldn’t be so bad except, right when I think I’ve got it down, the plan changes. For example, last week I practiced eight seated defenses that start with me sitting in a chair when I’m attacked by a standing opponent. I thought I did pretty well and practiced those moves all week. Then, this week, I suddenly had to do different moves.

I don’t know if this is a deliberate technique of the style but it seems to have happened each time I approached a belt test, learn this, practice it, then do something else. Granted, technically I should be able to do any move or routine when called upon to do it, but it’s the equivalent of being told you’re having a test on subtraction and then suddenly being thrown into an algebra pit. (Which really does exist, I’m pretty sure.)

Next week, it will probably all change again. I’m feeling much more confident this time around than I did a couple years ago when I failed the test. I still make small mistakes that, added together, hurt my chances, but I have most of the basics down.

Now I just need to work on my leg strength by next month so the painful katas are a little less painful.