The Last Straw

When I joined GEOS I was a very willing teacher. I would have done almost anything for the company. I thought being a teacher was a noble thing (still do), after all, you're not trying to convince somebody or sell something. I looked forward to a career in the company. The recruiting office in Vancouver had told us all about the wonderful opportunities in the other divisions of GEOS: travel, publishing, management. I figured I'd like to make a go of it. I thought I could be the kind of guy who works for a company. I thought I could get something marketable from the experience. You know, have something to put on the resume to show for the time spent in Japan.

FLASH FORWARD...
I had been working at GEOS for two and a half years. During that time I had learned a lot of things about the company and I wasn't exactly enamored with it's business practices. I was starting to assert myself in the school saying things that I thought needed to be said. I even refused to do a couple of things because I thought they weren't the sort of thing that I had signed on for. When you join GEOS you're told that you're going to be a teacher. You're going to be a respected member of Japanese society. You're going to be a Sensei. Well, truth be told, most of the time you're nothing more than a host. Make the people happy by any means necessary. I guess it's the same with any job, really. You hardly get to do what you really want to do...you gotta do what they tell you no matter how distasteful.

After a while in the system I was into standing up for myself. I told the managers what I thought. For example, why should I have to pay to go to GEOS parties? AND even if I pay, why can't I eat or drink at those parties? The rule was you couldn't eat or drink at any of the official GEOS parties unless a student brought you something to eat or drink. I swear to God I'm not making this up. Ever feel like an animal in the zoo? Just be a teacher at a GEOS party! "Please feed me!" Otherwise, you had to just stand there, smile, and be the perfect party host. Keep in mind that this was also my day off. "Yay! Grab those ankles!"

Another thing I did that was a sign of a growing backbone(or a sign of company fatigue) was tell a student the truth. "Holy Shit!" you must be thinking if you're an experienced eikaiwa teacher. Yep, I did it. She had been habitually absent for a couple of months. When she did show up for class, of course everyone was way ahead of her. She didn't "get it" and pouted. Of course I tried to catch her up as quickly as I could but finally, weary of the chore, I told her, "You know, Yuko, if you had come to class regularly you wouldn't be lost."

FLASH FORWARD A BIT MORE...
The office was strangely quiet when I walked in, said, "Ohayo", and punched in. Hmmmm... As I sat in my chair doing the pointless paper work, the assistant manager walked in and handed me a fax. "Sid Drygass will be visiting your school today from 1:00pm till 9:00pm." Oh just great, I thought, a visit from head office. This guy was coming all the way from Tokyo to little old Odawara to visit me. It could only be bad news.

The hour came and Sid didn't sit in on my first few classes. He spent the morning in conference with our manager. Then he came to spend my lunch break with me. We went to a local supermarket together and bought our lunches there. We came back to the school and sat in my room eating lunch. The chat was friendly enough at first. He said the manager wanted me to "spread my wings and try some new teaching styles." "Ok", I was open to that. Then he asked me, "What's going on at the school?"
"What? You mean with all the teachers quitting without notice? " I said.
"No. With you." He said.
"Me?"

He then reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a little black address book. He carefully thumbed his way to the right pages and started.

"It says here that you embarrassed a student in front of the other students by pointing out how many times she was absent."
"I told her that if she made a better effort to attend class she wouldn't be so far behind her fellow class mates at English. I did that while the other students were engaged in another activity and not paying attention, too."
"It also says here" (Big little book, huh?) "that you are not co-operating with your managers."
"If that's a reference to the parties that I have to pay to attend, yeah, I'm not co-operating."
"You have to pay to go to the parties?"
"Yes."
"How long have you been doing that?"
"Since the day I arrived in this country. Also, Sid? Why are all the foreign teachers' health check-up reports sitting on the counter in the lobby?
"What?"
"Our health check-up reports. You know, the ones that tell the results of the day we had to piss in the cup? They're sitting in the lobby on the counter. The Japanese staff have been looking at them and using them to start conversations with students waiting in the lobby. How come only the foreign staff's health reports are out there?"
He wrote something in his little book.
"I'll talk to Matsuoka-san (a head office drone) about that."
"Anyways, if your manager requests you to do something, by contract you must do it."
He looked like he was trying hard to re-focus. A moment later he was back into the role:
"Chris, why did you come to Japan?" he asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully and looking at me with an air of concern.
Phony bastard.

"Aw, c'mon. What kinda question is that? How am I gonna answer that?" I thought. "Tell him the truth and look stupid or make up some B.S. answer and just look stupider?" I hedged my bets.
"Uhhh, to travel. To see the world. I needed a job. I've always been interested in other cultures. I don't know." I said.

He leaned forward and with a look of such seriousness that I hadn't seen since an elementary school scolding said, "NO! You came to Japan to be a part of a winning organization. You came to Japan to see how a successful business is run. I came here to learn from these people. I'm taking this skill, these impressions with me back to Canada and I'm going to be successful."
Oh man oh man. This poor guy...
"Now listen to me," he said while jabbing his finger to punctuate his comments. "The next time I come down here I'm going to ask the same question and I want to hear the right answer from you. This is a great chance for you to improve yourself. Improve your stock worth."

I sat looking at him hardly believing what I had just heard. He still had that stern demeanor like a father scolding a child. Then he finished it off.

"And do me a favour? Smile. You have a great job. The people in this country love us. Be grateful." Right then and there I knew I was going to leave. Big time. I couldn't leave at right that instant because like the foolish grasshopper in Aesop's Fables, I hadn't prepared for it. I was going to leave no matter what, though. I was going to leave and get my "good-bye money" too because they owed it to me. GEOS has a policy of paying out a certain amount of money to former employees after about five months to those who leave quietly and remain quiet.

The point I want to make is this: Guys like Sid are part of the problem. He thinks he's part of "Japan Inc." He thinks he's working in Tokyo. I'm sorry but, no. He's a tool used by the people in head office. He's on a one-year contract like the rest of us. He won't get his contract renewed just like the rest of us when they get tired of him or they get to know him. He'll lose his sparkle and they'll chuck him out just like the rest of the eikaiwa party boys. The difference is he thinks he's gotten something special. He'll put on his little resume: "Was a Teacher Trainer/Area Leader for GEOS. In charge of all foreign staff in regards to training and co-ordination. Oct. '95-Aug. '96." Then, when he goes for his first interview back in Toronto, and they ask him to elaborate on his new found skills, he'll be humbled to admit he did nothing but put a gaijin face on asinine head office decisions. Decisions he had no part in making. He was an errand boy to the whims of some 23 year-old manager out in the boondocks of Japan trying to trim his/her overhead. Firing the senior/highest paid gaijin is a quick way to make money and impress another cog in Osaki.
"Well Sid Drygass," an interviewer back in Toronto will say, "we find you exceptionally qualified to brown nose in a foreign culture. Congratulations, here are your envelopes, start licking."

Anybody who thinks they've got a career as a "Teacher Trainer" or "Area Co-ordinator" or "Area Leader (the worst title ever, sounds like you're a Hitler Youth Camp Counselor)" in Japan is out of their mind. Here's my advice: if they offer you the job and there is more coin in it, take it! Then when you've got to play the part: tell the truth. Tell that poor schmuck sitting opposite you guilty of nothing but being truthful to the truth. Tell him/her to find another job at another school where they'll appreciate you. There are schools out there that are very happy to have a good person come in and teach English the communicative way. You don't have to worry about paper work or paying to attend the mandatory attendance parties or, heaven FORBID, telling the student the truth about learning English.

Above all, remember that there a million other people out there who could do your job better than you. You're nothing but lucky to have been boot licking the right person. I guess I'm wasting my time in saying this because if you are one of those people who have decided to take your "Tokyo Job" seriously then there is nothing I can say to sway you. See you in the U.I. lineup back in Canada, pal.