Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow
A classic Shakespeare quote, that like most of his work, now borders on cliched due its overuse. I think it’s a beautiful line, even if I never really took to the sentiment. Parting is often difficult, more bitter than sweet, especially if it’s the last goodbye. The school year is ending here in Japan, and brought about more goodbyes than I anticipated, and wouldn’t ya know, this sorrow has been rather sweet.
Like I mentioned when talking about graduation, the school year here in Japan ends in March and starts again in April. This means a lot of the same things as back home, teachers may be leaving for new positions at other schools, and you’ll be saying goodbye to all your current students.
Since I started in November, I’ve only been with these students for about 4 and a half months. At most, I see some classes once a week, at worst it could be one a month, or even longer between classes. I probably have more than 400 students all together across 4 different schools, I wasn’t able to remember the name of a single one.
Yet, when I gave my final lesson in front of the 1-5 class, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness. This was one of the more outgoing classes I had, many of my classes are painfully quiet and rarely want to participate. In contrast, I heard from the teacher I worked with that this class had begun to look forward to my lessons. You can feel a sort of energy from a class when they actually enjoy having you vs when they’re just watching the clock, or worse, asleep.
So when they stood and bowed to me for the last time, I was sad, but in a way, happy. I didn’t even notice that bit by bit I had become attached to these students, wanting them to take an interest in English, or at least in my lessons. Not realizing what you have until it’s gone is certainly a common trope in media or stories, but it’s a trope for a reason. Teaching is my job, and I assumed being a foreigner with a language barrier would make it difficult to become attached to students, especially in such a short time. It would seem I was wrong.
While this was the only class that was a bit difficult to say goodbye to, it wasn’t the only goodbyes that I was saying. Since teachers would be changing their responsibilities, or even leaving schools at the end of the year, I was saying goodbye to colleagues as well.
The teacher of my favorite 1-5 class, would be teaching second year students in the new school year. Currently, I only teach first year students at my main school, which means our paths may not cross much in the future. The atmosphere of my dear 1-5 class probably wouldn’t exist without that teacher, and in truth they were one of my favorites people to teach with.
At one of my visit schools, the English teacher who always let me know if there were any adjustments to the school day was also leaving. I’d known he was taking some kind of college level English exam thanks to some brief small talk. I can assume he passed that exam, since he’ll be leaving that school to become a vice principal(?) at a college in Kyoto. I was certainly happy for him, but wondered who would keep me updated about the office news I couldn’t yet understand?
A surprising tug on my heartstrings was an unexpected goodbye from a part time English teacher at my main school. I didn’t teach any classes with him, but he asked me questions about grammar from time to time. I don’t think I always gave him the right answer, but he kept coming back.
He wormed his way into my heart by always being polite, and even offering me an orange he grew from his garden. Eventually he started making jokes as he would ask me questions about English, getting a few good chuckles out of me. The same day I had to say goodbye to my 1-5 class, he also let me know it would be his last day.
The teacher next to me let it slip that he was about 77 years old. He said it was important to keep working for as long as he was able. I hope to talk about this more, but I hope that for him, teaching was his Ikigai, his “reason for being.” They say that finding your Ikigai is a large part of living a long healthy life, and given his usual energy, there might be some truth to that.
Speaking of the teacher next to me, he’s also going to be leaving at the end of the year. Due to sitting right next to me, we interacted pretty often. He would ask me the odd question in English, explain things to me, or sometimes just make small talk. We would teach together sometimes, but he usually let my supervisor take the lead alongside me.
I quite enjoyed his presence, and felt like he made an effort to make me feel like less of an outsider. Together we went out for conveyor belt sushi one day for lunch, an apparent love we share. During the winter break when we had no classes, he again invited me to lunch along with some other teachers. It made me feel like I had a friend at work, someone who enjoyed having me around. Being able to offer him the odd explanation about English, or occasionally being tech support, made me feel useful.
On the other hand, I wonder who will end up sitting beside me next year? Will they bring on another English teacher or two to fill the holes left behind by the departing teachers? Perhaps I’ll be able to make fast friends with the new English teacher, who technically, might be considered my junior. I still have a lot to learn about working in Japanese schools, but I might at least be able to pretend to have some knowledge in front of my kōhai (junior).
Even if I knew it was coming, I didn’t think it would impact me as much as it has. There’s some sorrow to be had, sure, but it’s sweet in its own right. It forced me to realize that I cared more than I realized. A favorite class, a teacher I enjoyed working with, a helpful teacher who filled me in on the goings on, an inquisitive older teacher, and even my desk mate, all saying goodbye. Short as our time together may have been, each of these things became a part of my daily life, and I will miss them.
Thankfully, goodbye isn’t always farewell. I still hope to see students from my favorite class around the school or around town, hoping they try and strike up a conversation. The teacher from that class will still be around, and maybe we can be more casual now that we may not be teaching together. Nothing is supposed to stay the same forever, and I wish everyone moving on to a new phase in their lives all the best.
Annoyingly, I guess Shakespeare was onto something. While not every parting is sweet, leaving friends and family in Canada certainly wasn’t, maybe there is some sweetness to be found. It makes you rethink those you’re parting with, and perhaps makes you realize feelings you never consciously felt before.
While I may not see some of those I’m parting with again, I do look forward to the new meetings that the new school year will bring. My new desk mate has some tough shoes to fill, but maybe my growing familiarity with my role will make it easier to build a relationship. My future students may need to be on their best behavior to become my new favorites, but perhaps the confidence as a teacher I’ve been building will help them engage more. Every goodbye brings a new opportunity, sweet or sorrow, it’s on us to make the most of it.
