A Tale of Two Schools (Part Two)

(This is a continuation of the last post, so you might want to read it to get a fuller picture. Or don’t; each also works on its own. Consider this a stand-alone-sequel post.)

For whatever reason, my supervisor (at the high academic high school) is fascinated by the wealth gap in America. He also likes to claim, much to my visible and vocal disgust (or at least as visible/vocal as one can get to a superior in Japan), that Japan does not have such a wealth gap.

I would like him to explain my technical high school to me then. Tell me about the high school literally in the shadow of a raised six lane highway and deafening recycling plant. Explain the school full of students who have been written off, a school where even the ones who know about, want, and can achieve something better are denied because of circumstances they didn’t ask to be born into.

Admittedly, not every student at this school looks up at me with giant deer-like eyes that silently wonder what they did to get so fucked by the world. Most are blissfully ignorant and don’t know or care about anything better.

But for the ones, like the student from the last post, who are willing to work for something better but are so concretely denied by a wealth gap that allegedly ‘doesn’t exist’, it is unbearably sad.

So many of the kids are so visibly poor I don’t even want to imagine their lives outside of school. And then there’s the ones who try so desperately to hide it but can’t. You know, the kids who have that one gaudy, highly visible designer thing that they cling to like it keeps them alive. It’s usually a Louis Vuitton wallet that’s always in plain sight, but it just doesn’t fit with the rest of their appearance. These kids are saddest because they clearly know where they stand in society, and need to buy these things they so clearly can’t afford as a sort of public denial of their poverty.

It would be so easy for me if the kids were fundamentally bad kids, then I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about them and wouldn’t have so many complex feelings for them. But they’re not, and it’s so painful when I see kids whose goddamn shoes are barely being held together, kids who are clearly going through things I could never imagine, somehow still give effort in totally irrelevant English class or become visibly frustrated when they want to tell me about something, but just can’t break the communication barrier.

So, to those like my oblivious assclown of a supervisor who claim the wealth gap is virtually non-existent in Japan, I encourage you to walk with me from the high school to the bus stop. Walk from the school, next to the recycling plant, walk down the street lined with factories that reek of paint, past the homeless guy under the highway, and stand with me as I and the students who legitimately want a future but are denied one wait for the bus.

Then tell me there is no wealth gap in Japan.

(Sorry for the somewhat heavy posts, but sometimes it's important to remember that life is real, and not just made of shiny pretty-boys in eye shadow or tacky commecials.)