For some unexplained reason, elementary schools in Japan give their special education classes names other than ‘the special ed class.” So at my C school, they’re called tampopo (dandelion) and at my B school they’re called himawari (sunflower). I asked several elementary teachers and they most said the special education classes at their schools have names of plants, flowers or cute animals. I imagine it has something to do with the Japanese compulsion of giving cutesy names to things they perceive as unpleasant or embarrassing.
Today I had lunch with tampopo class. It has seven students ranging in age from eight to eleven. One was absent, so there were six of them, plus the teacher and the two teacher’s aides. I sat between Nozumi and Kira, the two eight year olds. I suspect Nozumi’s issues must not be learning disabilities because, academically, she’s high functioning. Kira, on the other hand, I don’t know. While I’m teaching the others, he rolls around on the floor in the corner. He’s usually quiet, so my hope is that while he’s rolling around, he’s also absorbing some of the vocabulary (or at the very least, the songs) the others are learning.
Kira asked me what I was eating. “Yasai supu des (vegetable soup),” I answered. He went on to eat his omelet, curry rice and mixed vegetables (which he had drenched in creamy sesame dressing) while chatting with Nozumi. When we finished eating there was still plenty of time left in the lunch period. Kira asked Hayashi-sensei something, who responded with “Ask Guaria-sensei.” He turned to me and said something I didn’t understand. Nozumi reassured him that it was okay. He went on to say other words that I understood, but made no sense to me. There didn’t seem to be any connection between them. I shot in the dark and answered with random words, which he and Nozumi thought was hilarious. Finally, I heard Nozumi respond to one of his words and I realized what was going on. They (we) were playing a word game called Shiri-Tori.
The way it works is one person says a word, then the next person must say a word that begins with the same syllable the previous person’s word ended with. For example, if the game were to be played in English, the first person might say hunTER. The second person would say TERriFIC. Then the third person would say FICtional, and so on, until someone gets stuck or says a word that’s not allowed. I had played it before with my students in Gunma, but they had explained what we were doing, so I had a fair chance. This time, I had no idea what was going on until I made the connection between what they were saying to each other. No wonder they were laughing at my initial responses.
Once I knew what we were doing, I was able to make more sense. I know a fair bit of vocabulary, but, of course, when I had to produce it under pressure, I kept drawing a blank. Or, just as bad, I kept coming up with words that end in N. The one rule is that words must not end in N. So, although I now knew what we were doing, they were still laughing at my responses. At least now I could laugh along with them.
Most of my professional life I’ve worked with teenagers. Although my certification is for grades 7-12 (ages 12-18), I have almost exclusively worked with grades 9-12 (ages 14-18). This school year was the first time I’ve worked in elementary schools. And, I must say, it regularly brings me joy in ways that only occasionally happens with the upper grades. The simplest little interactions are so heartwarming and sweet.
March 6, 2020
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