Getting Comfortable with Discomfort
by Emily Eisenstein ‘19, JFOU Fellow 2019-2021
The first quarter of my Shansi fellowship has been a time of professional and personal growth, as I’ve been challenged by this experience in a lot of constructive ways. Reflecting on my development over the semester, I think my biggest gain (and biggest challenge) has been self-confidence and the determination to push outside my comfort zone.
Working at J.F. Oberlin
My previous experience teaching English has been small-scale; I was used to tutoring groups of 1-5 students in a more informal setting where individual needs always took priority over lesson plans. This semester, I realized that qualities which had worked for me as a tutor (soft-spoken and gentle corrections, attention to detail, an eager-to-please willingness to follow the students’ lead) were ineffective ways to manage a room full of teenagers. Six months ago, I worried that a lack of knowledge of specific grammar forms or punctuation rules might pose problems for me as a teacher. Now, I see that language-related knowledge is the easy part of this job - what I actually need to work on are leadership skills like public speaking, managing a group dynamic, and projecting more sureness in myself.
As someone naturally on the shy side, working one-on-one with students is a lot easier to handle. When it comes to lunchtime English conversation circle, GLEE club, and classroom activities, I can’t afford to be bashful. A lot of students are quite shy themselves or don’t have enough confidence in their English skills to be outspoken (Especially because the English education system in Japan focuses heavily on writing, students typically don’t have a lot of practice with conversation). Often, my questions or instructions are met with nervous silence and blank stares. Through my own observations and conversations with students and other teachers, I’ve learned one reason for this: there seems to be a lot of embarrassment associated with making mistakes in Japanese classrooms. Compared with language classes I’ve taken in the United States, where people were eager to put the grammar books away and get talking, students in my class are usually more comfortable sticking to the textbook. No one wants to stand out as a poor student or overzealous, so even raising one’s hand to answer a question comes with higher stakes than I had realized.
As a leader in these situations, I have to be extra outgoing and creative. I’ve resorted to singing, dramatic pantomiming, and lots of other antics to attempt to bring students out of their shells or keep a class engaged. Being the center of attention like this still makes me feel vulnerable, but I’m learning to be comfortable with that feeling. I know that many of my students are just as self-conscious speaking English in front of their classmates, and if I’m asking them to step outside of their comfort zones then I need to be willing to do the same.
At the end of the term, I was sad to part with my familiar classes full of students I looked forward to seeing each week. As a brand-new teacher, I look back on this semester and remember some embarrassing moments and mistakes I’ve made, but I also remember those students who tried their best despite the potential for failure or embarrassment. I’m most grateful for these moments of vulnerability and the people who shared them with me.
Life Outside Work
Outside the classroom, there are plenty of opportunities to build confidence and take initiative. One area where I’ve had to do this is, surprisingly, finding chances to speak Japanese!
From the perspective of one trying to improve my Japanese, being a native English speaker can be a double-edged sword; of course, the fact that English fluency is highly valued and sought-after is a great privilege and the very reason that I’m able to work and live in Japan. On the other hand, it can be easy to fall into a pattern of relying on English in daily life (especially now, as Tokyo gears up for the Olympics with an increase in public services, signs, and announcements aimed at foreigners). I’m able to speak English most of the time at work and when socializing with most of my friends.
Japanese is still all around me, but to be able to actively participate in the language and culture, I’ve had to challenge myself to be more extroverted and open toward others. Part of this involves taking more chances in daily life. Back in the U.S., I’d cross the street to walk a less populated path. Now, I’ve made a habit of taking opportunities for conversations wherever I can find them. Last week, I chatted with a woman at the recycle shop about the toy she was buying for her granddaughter. A few days ago, I got swimming advice from a stranger at the Machida municipal pool. Earlier this week, I swapped dog-owner stories with a lady in Chofu who was walking two fluffy Akitas.
Taking advantage of opportune moments is great, but making local friends also involves finding events, groups, or activities to intentionally go out and meet new people. In a foreign country, this can be intimidating, but so far my experiences have been overwhelmingly positive and I have lots of fond memories: sitting in a cafe and discussing literature with Aya, who I met in Yokohama when we both volunteered to walk dogs for an animal shelter; sharing jokes and stories with new friends on the walk back to Hachioji station after a language-exchange Halloween party; a trip to see the winter illumination at Sagami Lake with Takako, who I met through the same group (and the car ride we hitched from a very kind older couple who also happened to be on their way up to the mountainside park).
After seven months living in Japan, I’m not magically transformed into a fearless socialite. Reaching out to new people and making connections in my community isn’t second-nature, it’s something I do with intention. I’m looking ahead to the continuation of my fellowship with excitement, gratitude, and plans to keep challenging myself.