Where there is hope, there is a way!

Never are all doors closed. We live in an increasingly dipolar planet between two extreme ends, which provide us opportunities to overcome difficulties. Some schools needed teachers who would be willing to visit a well-off student at their home to save them the 3 hours it would take to get to class for a 90-minute lesson, or for a late-afternoon Saturday class. Native speakers generally did not want to take on those classes because they were not profitable or they simply preferred to have a beer with a pal on a Saturday rather than teach English. For me, it was simply not a time to be choosy. Gratefully, I took on these left-over classes to launch me in teaching, even temporarily. I was confident that once I proved my ability, more work would follow.

Days of job inquiries had continued unceasingly until that fateful day when my eyes caught an ad about an American-based, highly-prestigious international language school that offered not only English, but other foreign languages as well. There I was, standing in my friend’s ‘genkan’, barely a meter long space inside the front door and next to the elongated kitchen; the phone and the phone number right in front of me. I was wavering between the thoughts of calling and getting rejected again, and wondering if there could remotely be a position for a Persian instructor. With almost no hope that this time it would prove to be any different, I decided against the odds and called. There was no job for a Persian instructor. No surprise. However, something far better than what I expected was waiting for me.

The American head teacher, a professional linguist, specialized in teacher-training and curriculum development of that school, had completely a different idea about learning English from a native speaker. He perceived (as it should be) language as an important communication tool and believed that English is a global language used around the world. He emphasized that learners needed to be exposed to different accents and pronunciations. I would immediately secure an appointment for an interview.

In our meeting, I found him friendly and very confident. I was tense after all that I had experienced up until then, but his pleasant personality put me at ease right away. Throughout the interview, he asked essential questions including relevant work experience, and seemed satisfied with what I had to offer. The interview was conducted in English, so I don’t believe he found anything absurd or peculiar in my accent that would presumably hinder communication. I was hired.

Enthusiastically, I took the two-week training course. The school was specialized in one-on-one and small group lessons. Students already had learned enough grammar and vocabulary in high school; they just wanted to be able to speak English with someone. The school also had exclusive materials that I found well developed for private lessons. In addition, they had a methodology for teaching those materials. The two-week training period helped me get a solid background and added to my teaching experience I already acquired in the Philippines and Iran.  

When the training was over, I was given weekly classes right away. Still living in Osaka, I was really thrilled, and a little boastful to be able to find a job in a country ranked second best economy in the world, walking alongside those haughty-looking businessmen, ‘sararimantachi’, on my way returning home in those miles-long crowded underground passages. I realized I still had a lot to learn but I was doing whatever I possibly could. After sometime, the Nagoya branch needed teachers. So, I was dispatched to Nagoya from time to time. Incredible! Although rejected by much smaller schools, I was sent on business trips by this one. It gave me a feeling of accomplishment that my contribution to society mattered!

Shinkansen-ride thrill

Riding the Shinkansen bullet train, then the fastest train in the world, was quite an event, reminding me of train rides taken during my childhood, but with everything in stark contrast. When I was a kid, my family used to take the train to my mother’s hometown in northern Iran, near the Caspian Sea. The trains, bought from Europe, were probably manufactured before World War I. They looked like antiques, the ones with compartments that now a days, we can see only in classic movies. It seemed to take forever to reach your destination. Of course, as a child, I loved the long rides. Sitting in the Shinkansen, enjoying coffee at the dining car while watching the scenic view and reminiscing the childhood memories was truly delightful. When approaching the terminal, slowly advancing with its projected snout, some passengers on the platform excitedly taking photos, the Shinkansen looked uniquely majestic, like a passing dignitary saluting soldiers.

Bar Hostess, Native speakers only!

   

It was just a few days later, still in search of a job for survival, and not yet completely absorbed the reality that skin colour in the business world matters here when I came across this quizzical ad: “Wanted: Bar hostess, native speakers only!”

Native speaker of what language, I wondered. We were in Japan, did they mean a native Japanese speaker? But I was, technically, a native speaker, but just of Persian, could they mean that? Or did the term ‘native speaker’ have another meaning here?

This ad was placed in the late 70’s. Japan was enjoying the result of the booming economy of the 60’s and 70’s paving the way for the bubble economy of the mid- 80’s. Everything, was about the three “Ps”: power, prestige, and profit. Only money talked and entertainment was the core of activities. Indeed the concept, like everywhere else in the developed world was like the movie “Wall Street”, in which Gekko in his speech addressed to the stock shareholders, reminds them that: “Greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right, greed works, greed clarifies, cuts through and captures the essence of evolutionary spirit!”

At around the same time, the Zen Spirit, the projected image of Japan which had been highly praised in the international arena, was getting pushed aside by frenzy materialism. The meaningful sense of ‘wabi sabi’, or ‘the beauty in simplicity’ was hard to find. Edwin Reischauer calls this time of history in Japan as “a time of doubt”. “Even to the post-war generation, the products of the new age, Japan sometimes appeared spiritually empty”, he writes.

Out of curiosity, I called the number on the ad.

“Excuse me”, I said, “Could you tell me: native speaker of what language are you looking for in your ad?”

“Um…Ahhh…”

That was the only response I got.

I told the man on the phone that even he was a native speaker...of Japanese! This conversation, like the last, ended up in disappointment. It was a learning moment that here ‘native speaker’ meant light skin, preferably blue eyes, and blonde hair. It seemed it was profitable for businesses to have fair skin; in bottom of my heart, still young and naïve, I should admit, I was envious of the successful applicants.  

In this new country it seemed I did not meet the requirements to teach a language I had studied and perfected for years, or to even pour sake (Japanese wine) in a customer’s wine glass. Do the students and customers want these things, or do businesses insist on this unspoken rule? Which came first, the chicken or the egg?  Either way, I thought, what a pity to miss out the rich variations and rewards of diversity!

Awakening to life's purpose

The job enquiry on that day in which skin colour became an essential factor for the job qualification made me think about how enigmatic the paradigm of human's mind-set is about appearances; how we build walls and alienate ourselves from one another for something God-given. Yet, we highly praise diverse colours in nature, write poems or paint to show the beauty of a rainbow or spring blossoms. Never would a gardener grow a garden entirely of one-colour flowers.

Eckhart Tolle, in his book “A New Earth, Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose”; wrote about why humans are fascinated by the beauty of nature. He talks of 114  million years ago when the first flowering plants appeared on planet, opening up to receive the rays of the sun. According to him “seeing beauty in a flower could awaken humans, however briefly, to the beauty that is an essential part of their own innermost being, their true nature.” In Japan, for instance, people love the ethereal beauty of cherry blossom or the majesty of divinely symmetrical Mount Fuji. Year upon year, in spring, they make sure not to miss out on viewing the cherry blossoms. Every time, the way they admire its beauty, it is as if they have seen it for the first time. Is this affinity merely to be expressed in the physical existence of those physical attributes in nature solely? Tolle believes, “once there is a certain degree of Presence, of still and alert attention in human beings’ perceptions, they can sense the divine life essence, the one indwelling consciousness or spirit in every creature, every life-form, recognize it as one with their own essence and so love it as themselves.”

How on earth, or at what point in history did we go wrong, ignoring our true spirit and befalling into this abysmal confusion, looking at our physical appearance so competitively? Under the misconception that words considered derogatory lie at the root of the problem, we try euphemism to cover up the ugliness. Among many, one is “people of colour”, truly defined as “any person who is not white”. Now, wait a minute! Is white not a colour? What is so special about white that is distinct from other colours? Why should skin colour matter so much to humans?