The Day of the Dreaded(?) Phone Call

March 19 has probably been circled on many a teacher's calendar here in Miyazaki Prefecture. Why, you ask? Well, because today is the day that teachers (and staff members!) find out if and where (within the prefecture) they are being transferred.

In Japan, as I've mentioned before here on my blog, individuals are not as important as the group. So, for instance, when you start a career as a teacher, you do not get to choose where you work or how long you stay there. Instead, those decisions are made by a higher authority, someone at the Prefectural Board of Education, I suppose.

From what I understand, the average "lifespan" of a teacher at any one school is roughly 3-5 years. But I know of some teachers who have been transferred after just one or two years, and I've also met a couple teachers who have lasted about ten years in one location. So I think it's safe to say that no one's job is safe.

How do the teachers find out if they are being transferred? First, the teachers all gather in the main teachers' room. Then, the principal, from his office just down the hallway, calls one of the vice-principals on the phone. The vice-principal, in turn, announces the name of a teacher, and the teacher then goes to see the principal. About 2 or 3 minutes later, the teacher comes back and announces to the rest of the crowd where he or she has been transferred.



Even though supposedly no one knows ahead of time if they are being transferred or not, from what I hear through the grapevine, it is possible to request and receive a transfer. But for the most part, I think it is true that no one knows. Nevertheless, I only detected a sense of shock from one teacher. He has only been here for two years, so he seemed rather surprised to hear his name called. So were the other teachers, as the crowd started buzzing just after his name was called.

At least two of the other teachers seemed a bit surprised when their name was called, but just about every teacher on the list got up and left the teachers' room so quickly as soon as his or her name was announced, you almost had to believe that they either didn't mind leaving or had actually hoped to be sent on their way.

Oh, and get this: The teachers who transfer only have about 10 days to move and get settled in at their new location. No joke. And if those teachers take a day off from school to pack or move or whatever, they have to take nenkyu, which means they have to use one or more of their paid vacation days. Again, no joke. Which basically means that they are forced to move, but they have to do so on their own time. Did I mention in an earlier blog that the Japanese like to torture themselves?

Think of all the implications of such an unexpected move: Quickly clean out your desk. Start packing immediately. Sell or get rid of whatever you don't feel like moving. Say goodbye to everyone. Possibly move out as early as this Sunday. Go to your new location. Find a new apartment. Get set up in your new apartment. Go to your new school. Meet all the other teachers. Start working there on Tuesday, April 1.

But besides the teachers being affected, think about the students. Perhaps their favorite teacher is leaving so they are sad. Or maybe it's a teacher they hate who is leaving, so they're happy. Or maybe the new teachers aren't nearly as nice or talented or understanding or whatever.

What if the teacher who is leaving is the basketball coach? Will one of the new teachers take over the coaching duties? What if the teacher who is leaving is the only one in the school who teaches sign language (after school on Thursdays)? Will someone take over for him or will you have to pick up a new hobby?

And what about the teachers like me who are staying? One of the best things about my job is my supervisor, and I already dread the day when the phone rings and his name is called. He's supposedly staying at least two more years, but who knows? Heck, I want him to stay here as long as I'm here. Otherwise, I'll have to figure out a way to follow him to his next location. Life here just won't be the same for me once he's gone.

And what about the group dynamics of teachers moving around so often? For instance, what happens to my baseball team, now that our #1 catcher has been transferred? I guess the #2 guy has to step up. Or will one of the new teachers be a great catcher and be able to replace him? At least our #1 pitcher (and cleanup hitter!) is staying, thank goodness! ("Bonzai," as I like to call him, is a damn good baseball player and a hell of a guy, too. I've barely gotten to know him and would have been pretty upset had he gotten the call. So, yes, that was me giving him a subtle yet obvious high-five and hug after the final name was called.)

I've asked some of my teacher friends here why they get moved around so often. None of them could give me a concrete answer to my question, but they all think the whole idea behind moving people around primarily has to do with preventing people from getting lazy. In a way, I can understand that, sure. It's part of the reason why there are term limits for politicians, too, right?

But what if I really like where I live and work? What if I am a ski fanatic, like small towns in the middle of nowhere, always wanted to work at a secondary school, enjoy working with most of my colleagues, love my neighbors, have few to no discipline problems with the students, have invested time and energy into starting a baseball team, and have finally found the workplace of my dreams, right here in Gokase? Why do I have to leave, after only three years?

Two words: Japanese tradition.