Mamatomos Unite!

Just yesterday in the Japan Times I read yet another article on the perceived “low relational mobility” of the Japanese, or their limited willingness to develop new, authentic friendships, especially with foreigners. Truthfully, prior to my departure I didn’t have any preconceived notions about creating meaningful relationships in Japan. I didn’t concentrate on the idea of forming close friendships with Japanese people. At 41, why would I even need new friends?

Based on my experiences in Tokyo, low relational mobility couldn’t be farther from the truth. Yes, I am cognizant that I am a foreigner and as a result, I am the “other,” but through my academic work and my children, I have developed some deep and rewarding friendships that will last a lifetime. Perhaps it’s the trials of toddlerhood that bring vulnerable mothers together regardless of race or ethnicity, or it could be the bond some of us share as working mothers trying to find the elusive “balance.” Whatever it is that brought us together, I value the authentic friendships that I have formed with women in Tokyo. My mamatomos (a hybrid for Mother-Tomodachi) have hosted dinner parties on my behalf, researched and guided my family’s in-country travel destinations, had coffee and tea with my mother, and even assessed my kimono and obi (heaven forbid I didn’t have the socially acceptable kimono fit for a professor). Overall, I cherish the gift of friendship that these women have given me over the last 8 months and I will be heartbroken to leave them when we return to the US.    

Sakura season is breathtaking but painfully short, as it lasts only 7 to 10 days.

In this blog post, I want to acknowledge Fulbright Scholar Dr. Seth Feinberg, who offered invaluable survival strategies leading up to my family’s departure for Tokyo. From residency cards to national parks to lesson plans, Seth was instrumental in helping me navigate this experience. His wife Kelly’s customized pin drop map was genius, and likely saved me many hours of exasperation looking for a grocery store!

Tsuda College Rituals Bring Meaning to Entrance Exams

As a higher education researcher, my eyes are always peeled for ways in which institutional culture supports student growth and development. Tsuda College rituals and mores are giving me great insight into these practices in Japan. Over the last six months, I’ve noticed time-honored educational activities that embody collegiate life. For example, in Japan class schedules are organized by “periods,” much like the way United States secondary schools design their student schedules. Traditionally, students in Japan live with their parents while pursuing a full-time roster of courses leading to the baccalaureate. They often commute to campus by metro, whether they live 30 minutes or 2 hours away. Thus, most four-year institutes do not offer robust residential life programs for students in on-campus dormitories, and in fact, provide very limited housing options.

What has piqued my interest of late is my recent observation of nyūgaku shiken, or the standardized university entrance exam for incoming freshmen. In January I received official notification that Tsuda’s exam dates were slated for the first weekend in February. During this period, I was told the college campus was open only to test-takers and faculty. Furthermore, I was asked to remain completely silent while on school grounds. On the first day of exams, women queued up along the administration building to register for their chance to prove their intelligence and strength to Tsuda College. It was a compelling and inspirational site, as the severe weather presented another challenge for these anxious test-takers, who had one opportunity to pass this exam. I wanted to exclaim Gambatte! but held my tongue. Uneventfully, the weekend progressed, and I witnessed women come and go with beautifully wrapped bento boxes in hand (presumably for their lunch break). Then, on the final day of testing, as I ambled across the lawn, I saw parents arranged in a semi-circle near the main entrance to campus. Mothers and fathers smiled cheerfully and took photos as their daughters exited the various buildings. Test-takers, many of whom were crying, received warm embraces at the conclusion of this significant milestone. The whole scene gave me (and still gives me) chills. Had I not been walking at that hour, I would have missed this meaningful exchange, which captured years of hard work, commitment, and dedication on the part of students and their families. 

Tsuda College Undergraduates

In this post I would like to express my deep gratitude for the exceptional Tsuda College chefs, who work faithfully to please students, faculty, staff, and guests. Tanaka-san and Takiino-san lovingly prepare and present dozens of four-course meals daily. My sincerest thanks to these culinary experts who make life a little easier for those of us who enjoy dining on campus.

Celebrating Daruma, a Buddhist tradition bringing good luck to the Japanese