Climbing Out of Despair
- At August 18, 2019
- By admin
- In Annes Letters
0
Dear Family and Friends,
Kazuki Obata is 24 and is doing something remarkable. He is a rather shy young man, and when he was in high school, he often felt overwhelmed. He also experienced bullying and ostracism from classmates. Unlike American kids who, according to recent news, often take out their frustrations through violence on others, Kazuki followed his culture’s pattern of turning inward and shutting down. He refused to go to school, closed himself in his room, and wallowed in his confusion and lack of direction. So many youngsters do this in Japan that there is a name for it: hiki-komori.
A friend’s daughter is going through this, too. Her counselor told her parents to leave their child alone until she herself became ready to come out of her shell. No guidance, no demands, no expectations. Just leave her alone “until she is ready to emerge”. Sadly, because of lack of attendance, this young woman failed every class in high school and was not able to graduate. She is still unapproachable and the parents are still waiting for her “readiness”.
Who knows what caused Kazuki to break out of his shell? But emerge he did. And what he has done since then is remarkable. “I suffered so much,” he reflects, “and I don’t want others to be as lonely and confused as I was. That’s why I started this NPO called Kids’ Door.”
This group offers a safe space for school-resisting youngsters to get together and share their problems, their thoughts, and their struggles. It allows them to know they are not alone, that there are many others all over the country suffering as they are. This NPO does not pretend to answer all problems or even to get kids back into school. But it does promise a place of reassurance and community for those lacking support elsewhere.
A friend of mine volunteers to help these youngsters. And today she and I went to a special event organized by five very impressive high school aged kids.
Kazuki Obata is 24 and is doing something remarkable. He is a rather shy young man, and when he was in high school, he often felt overwhelmed. He also experienced bullying and ostracism from classmates. Unlike American kids who, according to recent news, often take out their frustrations through violence on others, Kazuki followed his culture’s pattern of turning inward and shutting down. He refused to go to school, closed himself in his room, and wallowed in his confusion and lack of direction. So many youngsters do this in Japan that there is a name for it: hiki-komori.
A friend’s daughter is going through this, too. Her counselor told her parents to leave their child alone until she herself became ready to come out of her shell. No guidance, no demands, no expectations. Just leave her alone “until she is ready to emerge”. Sadly, because of lack of attendance, this young woman failed every class in high school and was not able to graduate. She is still unapproachable and the parents are still waiting for her “readiness”.
Who knows what caused Kazuki to break out of his shell? But emerge he did. And what he has done since then is remarkable. “I suffered so much,” he reflects, “and I don’t want others to be as lonely and confused as I was. That’s why I started this NPO called Kids’ Door.”
This group offers a safe space for school-resisting youngsters to get together and share their problems, their thoughts, and their struggles. It allows them to know they are not alone, that there are many others all over the country suffering as they are. This NPO does not pretend to answer all problems or even to get kids back into school. But it does promise a place of reassurance and community for those lacking support elsewhere.
A friend of mine volunteers to help these youngsters. And today she and I went to a special event organized by five very impressive high school aged kids.
One was not able to attend today, but was included thanks to Skype.
The purpose of this meeting was to bring together individuals who were suffering from school phobia and those who were deeply concerned for them. Usually such events are only for school dropouts, but today very caring parents were there, too, desperately seeking ways to help their troubled children.
Today’s program was beautifully organized. After very brief self-introductions, we were divided into small groups and directed in playing a guessing game. That was to melt barriers of shyness. Then things became a bit more serious. Again, in groups of three, we were asked to brainstorm ideas on how people learn. In my trio, no one even mentioned formal schooling.
Break time, good for chatting causally. Then re-introducing ourselves, this time in more detail. The response was incredible. Usually Japanese are extremely private and seldom talk about themselves. But in this now-safe environment, floodgates opened. People poured out their stories. Kids talked about being bullied or verbally abused by teachers. Parents, some almost on the verge of tears, expressed their worries and lack of direction in how to help the beloved children. Everyone respectfully listened or nodded in understanding. Group bonds were growing deeper.
The next task was to discuss in small groups education in the past and now. Happily, I learned there is a school new in Sendai, but with branches all over the country. It is called the En School. No one could tell me what En stood for, but the school itself is a very admirable attempt to help kids that are victims of their school experiences and overwhelming fears. It also opens its doors to youngsters who simply find no meaning in a regular education, or who are sports pros and cannot attend school regularly because of frequently going to tournaments.
Indeed, this institution gives its students a great deal of control over their education. For example, there might not be set classes to graduate, but rather students themselves decide what to study and how many days a week they will attend. They can design their own homework and can hand it in whenever they are ready. Several of the five organizers of today’s program were students in En School and seemed to be doing well. In fact, each one of them had a dream for their future.
Those five young adults were very impressive. They organized and ran today’s entire program. It took over two months. No adult was involved. These leaders were intelligent, motivated, polite, and very caring. They carried themselves with dignity and confidence. They worked together well as a team and showed genuine interest in what all the participants had to say. Each one of them said they were involved in this work because they had suffered so much and wanted to help others who were in circumstances similar to their own. And in the future, they would like work that would allow them to continue supporting those in trouble.
The atmosphere those five young persons created was that of total trust and deep respect. The love generated in that room today was palpable. If people like those five will be accepted in Japan’s often overly rigid society, everyone will benefit, and the world, without any doubt, will become a much better place.
Love,
Anne
Today’s program was beautifully organized. After very brief self-introductions, we were divided into small groups and directed in playing a guessing game. That was to melt barriers of shyness. Then things became a bit more serious. Again, in groups of three, we were asked to brainstorm ideas on how people learn. In my trio, no one even mentioned formal schooling.
Break time, good for chatting causally. Then re-introducing ourselves, this time in more detail. The response was incredible. Usually Japanese are extremely private and seldom talk about themselves. But in this now-safe environment, floodgates opened. People poured out their stories. Kids talked about being bullied or verbally abused by teachers. Parents, some almost on the verge of tears, expressed their worries and lack of direction in how to help the beloved children. Everyone respectfully listened or nodded in understanding. Group bonds were growing deeper.
The next task was to discuss in small groups education in the past and now. Happily, I learned there is a school new in Sendai, but with branches all over the country. It is called the En School. No one could tell me what En stood for, but the school itself is a very admirable attempt to help kids that are victims of their school experiences and overwhelming fears. It also opens its doors to youngsters who simply find no meaning in a regular education, or who are sports pros and cannot attend school regularly because of frequently going to tournaments.
Indeed, this institution gives its students a great deal of control over their education. For example, there might not be set classes to graduate, but rather students themselves decide what to study and how many days a week they will attend. They can design their own homework and can hand it in whenever they are ready. Several of the five organizers of today’s program were students in En School and seemed to be doing well. In fact, each one of them had a dream for their future.
Those five young adults were very impressive. They organized and ran today’s entire program. It took over two months. No adult was involved. These leaders were intelligent, motivated, polite, and very caring. They carried themselves with dignity and confidence. They worked together well as a team and showed genuine interest in what all the participants had to say. Each one of them said they were involved in this work because they had suffered so much and wanted to help others who were in circumstances similar to their own. And in the future, they would like work that would allow them to continue supporting those in trouble.
The atmosphere those five young persons created was that of total trust and deep respect. The love generated in that room today was palpable. If people like those five will be accepted in Japan’s often overly rigid society, everyone will benefit, and the world, without any doubt, will become a much better place.
Love,
Anne
