The Language Teacher
August 2003
An Interview with Dr. Brian J. McVeigh
Shelley A. Spencer
The following interview with Dr. McVeigh was conducted in person by Shelley Spencer on January 16, 2003.
Dr. Brian J. McVeigh, a social anthropologist, lived in Japan from 1987 to 2003 engaged variously in studying, researching and teaching. He has published widely and frequently gives public talks. Although he taught courses in anthropology at universities in Tokyo, he has also taught a number of English courses. Recently, he accepted an appointment at the University of Arizona. In this interview, he talks about his research and the implications for language teachers.
Shelley Spencer: By way of introduction, could you explain the interests of a social anthropologist, and your interests in particular?
Dr Brian J. McVeigh: Certainly, but I must point out that it's rather difficult to define the specific interests of social anthropologists, since there are so many. Research topics can range from ethnicity, socio-linguistics, social and political structures, national identity, kinship, etc. I'm interested in how macro-level political and economic forces shape socializing experiences--for example, the mechanisms at work in the school community--by linking up with the micro-level. Such linkages influence individual behavior and thinking patterns. Or we might say I study how individuals are primed to accept certain roles that are constructed by social forces.
S: Your first book (1997) explores deeply the roles enacted out at a particular women's college. In your research, you have come to regard the Japanese psyche as intensely concerned with role- playing and with images of "self," both "expressed" (intimate) self and "performed" (theatricalized) self. The result is that the world becomes rather like a stage, with people adopting certain roles depending on scenario. What are some of the potential roles being acted out in the classroom?
B: Before answering this question, let me say that I think we can find in all societies, not just in Japan, manifestations of "expressed" (intimate) and "performed" (theatricalized) selves, but perhaps the distinction between these two sides of the individual are more explicitly distinguished and keenly felt in Japanese society. This is due to a strong collectivist ethos designed by corporations and the state to make dedicated workers. Many Japanese students, then, bring with them into the classroom a rather theatricalized self. This results from being socialized to perform a student role intended to please the educational authorities and more specifically, to pass tests. Ultimately, the idea is for them to become diligent workers. Anything associated with an expressed self, like opinions, personal views, spontaneity, while not wholly absent from the Japanese educational experience, is not encouraged. Rather than just being themselves and making mistakes as they learn, students are implicitly taught to play a role designed to please the teacher. Also, the role of preparing for and passing exams is also stressed. But as any good instructor knows, exams and tests should only be tools for learning, not the primary purpose of schooling.
S: I want to return to the topic of roles later, but firstly, you've touched on the topic of external influences on education, driving to produce dedicated workers. In your writings, you claim that poor academic and classroom performance cannot simply be blamed on the students (or even teachers). You suggest, and I quote: "There is a more fundamental, political dimension involved, with roots in Japan's over-rationalized socioeconomic structures" (1997, p. 180). How did it evolve that these external forces came to dominate the education system?
B: This is a very big but important question. This quote, if I elaborate on it a bit, means that since the late nineteenth century, Japan has played a very vigorous game of "catch up" with the other great powers, and designed political and economic institutions that were very much geared to enhancing national power. Other societies, of course, carried out similar crash programs in nation building, but the Japanese took it very seriously. Educational institutions had a crucial part to play in socializing Japanese to become dedicated workers for Japan's brand of economic nationalism. But though these institutions produced good workers, the notion that learning in itself is something inherently good was weakened. In other words, learning was not for the individual, but became a type of rigid training for larger collectivities, such as the company or the state.
S: Assuming that some common complaints about students that you discuss (e.g., absenteeism, passivity, substandard work, homework avoidance, lack of critical thought or responsibility for their own learning) are the end result of this situation, and assuming that people genuinely wish to address these concerns, what solutions do you see?
B: I see many solutions, but too few concrete movements toward reform. My opinions are not original, since many informed and honest Japanese will say the same type of things. Some of my ideas, though accepted among some Japanese, are unorthodox by official Japanese standards. One idea is to get the Education Ministry out of the higher education business. Regardless of their good intentions, Ministry officials merely bureaucratize the educational experience, turning it into a non-educational experience.
As for corporations, they should begin examining what students actually studied at university, rather than what ranking a university has. There's much talk coming from the private sector about putting more emphasis on "individuality" and "personal talent", but this talk has been going on for many years now and I don't see any real changes.
Also, schools and teachers should make the schooling experience less dependent on exams and objective rankings. Such exam-obsession hinders real learning.
Moreover, I think it is important to remember that like all great civilizations, Japan did and still does possess an idea that education can be utilized by the individual for self-cultivation and self-improvement, and that schooling does not always have to be for someone else, whether for the company or the national state, but this ideal is being submerged. The challenge, as I see it, is how to revive and strengthen this more individual-oriented, less job-oriented, view of learning.
S: A two-part question: Do you think students are aware of all these external forces, and what can the discerning teacher do to minimize their effect, restore focus on genuine learning, and encourage suitable academic standards?
B: Of course, I think many students are aware of these issues, though perhaps not as explicitly as they should be. But this is probably true of students everywhere. Our job is to make them aware of these issues, as we would for students in any society.
As for teachers, though it is imperative to know the history of Japan's educational system and the powerful political and economic forces that shape and often distort it, I also believe that while in the classroom, instructors should focus on what is right before them, taking each student as an individual with particular strengths and weaknesses. Also, we should not be afraid to maintain standards. This does not mean being overly strict. It just means challenging students at the appropriate level. Many instructors, both Japanese and non-Japanese, appear to think that if they appease students by giving easy grades or passing them when they should've failed, these students will in the end somehow improve. They won't. And what's more, the students who do make sincere and serious efforts to learn feel cheated, resentful, and demoralized when they see their peers being babied by the instructor. This is, needless to say, very damaging to any educational endeavor.
S: Returning to the topic of roles, how could certain problems in the classroom be attributed to confusion about roles, particularly with a non-Japanese teacher present?
B: Personally, I don't think it should matter what ethnicity or nationality an instructor is. It seems to me that in Japan, more so than in many other societies, cultural differences are overly emphasized. This comes from a strong "we're Japanese and you're not" nationalism. Of course, to a certain degree, having a non-Japanese teacher present does encourage many students to play the "we-students-are-Japanese-but-the-foreign-teacher-is-not" role, thereby making national identity the focal point of the classroom experience for some. But teaching and learning should not be a "cultural issue" or about one's national origins, but rather one of quality, standards, and evidence that a student has learned something. While I was at university, I had many professors from all over the world, but their national origins or ethnicity hardly mattered to them or the other students when it came to lecturing or getting the material down. This is different in Japan, where many students are socialized to become almost fixated on ethno-cultural differences.
I might add that the problems we witness in Japanese universities do not concern a "foreign language" problem, but rather a general educational problem, since Japanese students have the same difficulties with self-expression, critical analysis, asking for clarification, etc., in other courses besides language classes. Honest Japanese instructors report the same problems as non-Japanese. Having said this, I do think role confusion arises when Japanese students are confronted with a non-Japanese instructor who grades students according to real academic criteria, not according to how many times students happened to show up in class.
S: As well as external politics influencing education, you also mention the internal politics in the classroom that influence student participation, e.g., tatemae, harmony, disharmony (1997, p. 180). You state they are a form of bullying, having a subversive effect on the classroom environment, and many teachers may not be aware of their existence.
B: Right. Bullying is not always explicit; it can be very subtle. For example, if there's a critical mass of less than serious students, they discourage the more serious students. This is tatemae at work. There is no easy translation of tatemae, but a direct translation is "stated principle". It refers to a kind of consensus that everyone agrees to, but which may not necessarily reflect a real state of affairs. Tatemae is concerned with maintaining a superficial harmony within the group (or classroom). This is where harmony comes in. Many people in Japan value harmony above all else. Therefore, raising a hand in class can be viewed as a disharmonious act. So, we're not talking about pedagogical issues here, but political issues. Many teachers are not aware of these undercurrents, resulting in big problems. Here's another example: If a student is very serious and does his or her homework, this may clash with the group's tatemae, which states: "We will give the appearance of being attentive, studious and civil, but we do nothing to prove that."
What is the cause of this behaviour? I recall that when I started teaching, a sensei told me that Japanese students are not afraid of the instructor. On the contrary, they are afraid of other students. So strong is tatemae, this forced consensus, this power in numbers, that bad can drive out good. The students may not even be aware of what's happening--they are simply caught up in the
environment.S: What can the teacher do to counter these influences on students?
B: There are several things that come to mind. Firstly, and ironically, teachers should be careful when giving praise, because they may in fact cause a student to feel singled out, thus creating disharmony in the group. Secondly, students often receive mixed messages, because teachers are not operating on the same wavelength; as members of a specific educational institution, they are not applying the same standards or ethics. Students learn that teachers are not serious about requirements and policies, and that they can influence teachers with excuses. Thirdly, individual instructors are not consistent with all students, in approach, grading, rewarding etc. Students who make little effort are allowed to pass, causing resentment by students who worked diligently. Weaker students may be offered extra assistance, whereas none is offered to stronger, keener students. Although the students may not openly express their discontent, they are simmering beneath the surface, or grumbling amongst themselves. These situations just eat away at the moral authority of the instructor, therefore the students don't take things seriously. As I see it, an institution ideally needs to determine its philosophies toward students, and all teachers need to consistently apply these standards.
S: Are there other scenarios in the classroom that language teachers may be encountering, that you wish to highlight?
B: Well, one thing I've noticed is that, due to the "we're Japanese and you're not" mentality, some students may come to feel that non-Japanese instructors do not acknowledge their "Japaneseness," and thus they assume their "cultural authenticity" is under siege. This is why it is crucial that both students and instructors realize that genuine learning comes from the interaction of two individuals, and that it doesn't really matter where one is from or what one looks like. I guess what I'm saying is that always searching for some cultural barrier that gets in the way of learning is not the same as respect for cultural differences.
S: In your latest book (2002), you have the courage to take a stand on Japanese higher education. You vividly portray some disturbing effects on Japanese youth, and reveal the "subterfuge" you believe is undermining education. What do you see for the future?
B: Well, that's a tough question, and it's difficult to make predictions. But I suppose, unless there are radical changes of the kind I noted above, the system will just muddle through. The Japanese schooling system, in spite of its serious problems at the higher educational level, does have some strengths, since it is generally able to turn out good workers with the basics. But I would like to think that as instructors, we want to go beyond just the basics, and would like to see our students do more than just muddle through. Education is, after all, not about mastering a set amount of facts, but rather it is about being challenged to do better. Educators should be willing to periodically raise the bar. In the classroom, if mediocrity is the goal, failure will probably be the result, and then eventually students lose interest.
Let me say here, that at the very end of my latest book (2002), I quote Richard Fiordo, who says: "To be sincere is to overcome obstacles." In other words, focusing on sincerity should be the goal of not just students, but also teachers, parents, and others concerned about education everywhere. We should all ask ourselves: "What is the real purpose of schooling? What is the real aim of education?" Is it solely to secure a job? Or, is it also to contribute to society through the healthy self-cultivation of the individual?
S: Dr McVeigh, I would like to thank you for your time, and for the insights you have given us. There are implications there for language teachers, which remind us of the crucial role of the teaching profession, and the responsibilities we have in guiding these young people who will soon take more active roles in society.
References
McVeigh, B. J. (1997). Life in a Japanese women's college: Learning to be ladylike. London: Routledge.
McVeigh, B. J. (2002). Japanese higher education as Myth. Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe.
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