When I watch the above video, Instruments of a Beating Heart, I’m tempted to think it’s all been staged for the cameras. But I have the luxury of a wife who teaches music to elementary students in just such a school and she tells me . . .
Yes, this is exactly what it’s like!
There are several things that truly stand out, at least for me.
The kids take the auditions so seriously, but their enthusiasm for getting the parts in the orchestra is shared. They’re very supportive of one another. Their focus is making their individual efforts contribute to the success of all of them in the shared enterprise. This “spirit of community” very much defines Japanese culture. It is why Japan is such a polite society, why there’s so much respect for the property of others, why the crime rate is so low, why kindness is the norm, why everything here seems to work so well.
The students show an awful lot of respect for their teachers. Of course, there are always exceptions. My wife tells me about the one or two or three kids in a class who are disruptive, even abusive to her and other students. Overall, however, Japanese students are attentive and polite.
THEY CLEAN THE SCHOOL! This includes the halls and the classrooms. Correct me if I’m wrong but I can’t imagine this being standard procedure in the U.S. and can imagine parents being outraged at the school using their kids as janitors. I think it’s phenomenal! It gives the kids a sense of ownership of and responsibility for the school, prompting them to keep the facility clean in the first place.
THEY HELP SERVE LUNCH! Again, I think this is great! It promotes a sense of service to others, gives them some practical experience doing something essential. Amazing! Do the elementary schools in America even serve freshly cooked, nutritionally balanced meals?
Lastly, I want to highlight the conversation among three of the students, discussing “What are we?” Meaning, how should they see themselves as individual contributors to the upcoming performance. This occurs at 21:18 of the video.
With a perceptiveness and intellects way beyond their years — they are only six-years-old — they decide together they all form a “beating heart”.
“We’re each a piece of a heart. If everyone is together, this is our shape.” And one girl makes a heart with her fingers. “If one of us is unbalanced, then the shape is broken. It’s no longer a heart.” Out of the mouths of babes, eh? But yes, that sums up the sense of community here in Japan, which I’ve written about before. It’s ingrained in every Japanese from birth, for better or worse.
I’m not preaching. Nor am I judging. Schools in each country — as do their societies as a whole — have their own ways of doing things and approved, accepted practices. What I am saying is that it’s important to look to other cultures to get fresh ideas and perspectives. That’s one sure way to improve on things. There are always opportunities to learn, re-think, break old habits, to innovate. It’s just a matter of looking around.
And what do you think?
By the way, there’s excellent video commentary on Instruments of a Beating Heart, presented by Professor Andrew Hartley. He looks at the fundamental cultural differences between Japan and the U.S., focusing on the contrasting ways we regard and raise our children. I highly recommend it.
Book Recommendation: My Father’s Journal by William Astore
I have a great idea for you. Take a break from the horror show going on in the world and savor a brilliant memoir-tribute by a son to his father.
This is a short read but every page is fascinating and enriching. It is time very well spent in a world that seems to have forgotten the core values which have sustained us for millennia, and form the fundamental fabric of communities and a nation.
I suspect — no, I’m quite sure — the many of the things about my own life growing up which I have in common with Bill Astore and his family, significantly contributed to why I found this book so riveting and poignant: Catholic family, poorly educated parents, poor working class, lives of contented poverty too-often visited by hardship and tragedy, world view and rules of life shaped by the trials of the Great Depression. Both of my parents died when I was 14 and I lived alone for several months in the family mobile home. My mother had severe problems with her heart all of her life, a vulnerability which took her at age 54. My father was a lifelong smoker and died of brain cancer at 56 after an operation left him gruesomely handicapped. A priest said Mass and presided over both of their funerals. My father had worked in factories much of his life. I myself worked my last three years of high school in a factory. We had little in the way of worldly comforts. But at least we had each other.
Frankly, I remember us being a happy family, always sufficiently fed, clothed and able to enjoy what good things we could afford. Back then, before everything became commodified and “success” was purely measured by the balances in a bank account and investment portfolio, there was a direct relationship between the love and special intimacy of a secure family, and a sense of self-worth and overall happiness.
This fine book offers a lot to digest and think about. I would hope that even readers who grew up under more fortunate circumstances will be able to fully appreciate and identify with both Bill’s own recollections and his father’s inspiring journal entries. His dad had a school-of-hard-knocks education but was gifted with the wisdom of a philosopher — he often quoted Schopenhauer. To the good fortune of the family, Bill’s father was generous with both his incredible insights, his humility and compassion, and his devotion to his wife and children.
So yes, folks . . . take a break from the nightmare unfolding in the world around us.
Savor this marvelously candid look at growing up poor but immersed in love.