これは英語翻訳版です。本来の日本語版はこちらで読むことができます。
A question repeated ad infinitum – “Why can’t Japanese people use English?”
A little introduction: I majored in English communication, and, after a pit stop in the USA for study abroad, I continued learning about English education during my MA. I experienced what it’s like to stand at the podium as a high school English teacher; later, I became a Japanese language teacher as well. Currently, I’m in charge of English classes at university.
Thinking of language education in Japan, there’s a single question that appears so frequently you’re likely to get sick of it: “Why can’t Japanese people use English?” Personally, when I first made friends with a non-Japanese English-as-a-second-language learner in America, I was shocked to learn of their academic history. “Huh, you can speak this fluently after only three years of study? But I’ve been learning English for more than ten years…” That’s how I felt.
What it Means to Learn a Living Language
Something I consider incredibly important when studying a second tongue — and this isn’t limited to English — is “learning a living language.” I first became aware of how interesting this concept was during university, while on exchange in America. ( I’m extremely grateful to my parents for paying my high tuition fees which allowed me to study abroad.) Since becoming a language teacher, something I’ve often had occasion to consider more deeply as regards “language acquisition” is this real feeling of how important it is to embrace the idea of language as “a living thing.”
The best example I can give of this is the sheer speed at which the exchange students I teach Japanese acquire the language. When I changed career paths from English teaching to working at a domestic Japanese language school, I was continually shocked by how quickly my students took on new concepts. At the Japanese school I’m employed at, most of our students arrive in Japan directly after high school graduation, possessing only the most rudimentary language skills. (Abilities in hiragana, katakana, some simple kanji, and very basic Japanese grammar.) These same students then graduate from our two-year course having obtained a JLPT N2 level of Japanese. N2 corresponds to the B2 level in CEFR (Common European Framework of Reference for Languages), in which the speaker is considered able to discuss matters both abstract and technical. It also maps onto levels 5.5. or 6.0 in the IELTS standard.
Of course, most of these students have left their home countries behind for Japan in order to achieve their dreams or to help their families; their motivation is extremely high, which is one reason for their rapid acquisition of the language. We can also consider how experiencing daily life in Japan acts as a sort of “language shower” these students step into each day. But beyond these facts, I believe there’s more at play. For each of these students, Japanese is “alive” as a language of study, something which holds great influence on them. To put it more concretely, I feel the following two points make learning a more enriching experience.
1. L2 as a Tool to Express Oneself
For most students arriving in Japan, even expressing their own opinions or interests is initially beyond them. Yet, day by day, they learn new grammar and expressions, progressively becoming more able to express themselves. Personal details, what they’re thinking at any given moment, what they want to do, what they don’t want to do, personal requests… The more they learn, the more they’re able to describe “themselves.” Those very sensations, combining what they’ve learned with actual usage of the language, are essentially what we could call “living” language.
2. L2 as a Window to a New World
For my students living in Japan, the behavior of Japanese people, our way of thinking, words and actions, and the makeup of Japanese society – it’s all foreign culture. Somewhere deep down, they’re always confronted by thoughts along the line of “why do Japanese people think that way?” Consequently, every encounter becomes an opportunity to try to parse out answers to such questions.
Interestingly, the first thing my students tend to memorize is a method of refusal: 「ちょっと…」, “chotto…” (Essentially, “that’s a bit…”) Paying close attention, down to the very details of intonation, they grasp this way to say “no” without angering Japanese interlopers.
There’s also the example of vocabulary. Why does Japanese have two words for “uncle”:「伯父」and「叔父」(both potentially pronounced “oji“)? The reason lies in the Japanese past, when the elder brother in a family would automatically inherit the household. At the time, birth order was habitually emphasized, and the two words represent just that: 伯父 is an uncle older than one’s father, while 叔父 indicates the opposite.
Another example would be the overwhelming preponderance of words related to “rain.” I perceive this as coming from the sensitivity Japanese people have towards the varied natural phenomena related to rain in Japan, a country that experiences tsuyu – the rainy season. These sorts of concepts allow students to daily take on the foreign culture of a language. They come to understand it, at times compare it to their own language, and absorb it all as a form of experiential learning.
Is English a “Subject” or a “Language?”
At this point, I’d like to take a moment to return to the topic of English language education. Because English has been set as a compulsory subject from middle and high school, it holds a peculiar place within language education in Japan. Of course, as business and the like has expanded into the international sphere, English has become a necessary lingua franca; it’s no surprise that English would be recognized as a required subject for education. Still, in its original sense, English is not a mere “subject.” Rather, I believe it’s necessary when reflecting on English education in Japan that we maintain an awareness that English is, in the end, a “language.” It’s a medium through which people communicate, and a vessel through which some sort of intercultural learning can be accomplished.
At the moment, I’m working both as a Japanese teacher and running English classes at a university. Among the first things said to me by the sophomores at university this semester were such common phrases as “I’m no good at English, so I apologize if I cause you trouble,” and “I hate English, but I want to try my best.” This is how I replied: “I’d like you to momentarily forget your conception of English as a school subject. In the end, English is a language; originally, it’s not the sort of thing that’s there to be evaluated, nor something that you should feel you’re bad at. Have you ever seen someone say ‘I hate Japanese?’ What I’d like you to do is to take on the English language as a living communication tool, not something you think you’re either good or bad at.” Also, “rather than focusing on memorization, I want you to focus on using the language.” Somehow or another, it’s my perception that these words had a real effect on the students.
Taking into account the students’ rejection of English and excessive English-phobia, I was especially conscious of creating chances within the classroom to encounter a “living English.” I introduced slang and poetic or funny turns of phrase not found in our textbook, giving the students many chances to encounter the intention behind the words. Each time I would introduce an English song, I wouldn’t ask “did you understand the lyrics?” Rather, I’d ask “did you empathize with what you heard?” I introduce SNS featuring English TV shows, and have students exchange recommendations of movies or Instagramers to each other. More than anything, what I’m trying to do is create opportunities “to grasp English through the viewpoint of foreign culture,”
For example, we stress the importance of understanding the nuances of the difference between “I’m sorry” and the Japanese word “sumimasen” (excuse me), and we work through the various ways you’d need to express the idea of “yoroshiku onegaishimasu” (a multi-use term that’s something like “let’s work well together”) in English. We look at the value of being able to grasp the meaning of English aphorisms. What nuances are contained in the phrase “let it go?”
Gradually, I began to get more and more of these sorts of comments: “When I tried watching a western film without subtitles, I discovered a new enjoyment than when I watch the same sort of film dubbed into Japanese.” “I’d never listened to western music before, but now I’m really into this foreign artist.” “I’d love to be able to use English to talk to someone from overseas if I ever get the chance.”
Learning about Foreign Cultures Through Language Study
The phrase “learning about foreign cultures” seems simple enough, but the reality is that there are many ways to go about doing so. You can read into the values and ways of thinking of a country where a language is spoken by considering vocabulary and expressions. By examining differences, we can introspect regarding our own mother tongues and culture. Beyond that, we come to see how the utterances we’re examining are being issued by another living human being, allowing us to better grasp the intent and emotion behind formerly obscured words.
However, the backdrop to such sensitivity can differ. I think such a realization serves as a wonderful way to learn about intercultural communication. Misunderstandings may arise, which may even lead to butting heads; even so, this allows you to consider “why is this expression being used.” I think this is a pathway towards the birth of awareness towards other cultures.
That pathway also leads to a desire to know more. The desire to know more leads to the use of the language itself. I think (especially in the current COVID crisis, in which actually going abroad is so difficult) that it’s extremely useful to have language learning serve as a chance to refine this sort of sensitivity; not only for language acquisition but for intercultural understanding. Perhaps we could even say it serves as a means of personal, humanitarian growth.
Is Your Language of Study “Living?
Japan is an island country, and its age of sakoku – self-imposed isolation – was very long. Culturally, we can be quite insular. Some peculiarities of our culture include the sense of “refinement,” found in a sensitivity towards the beauty of “not being explicit” in our communication. We also possess a “culture of consideration,” in which the responsibility of reading the meaning behind any given message is placed on the shoulders of the listener.
While that particular atmosphere has resulted in a unique local culture, our points of contact with the outside are limited, and we tend to treat foreign cultures and languages as something “from a faraway world.” That sense of distance often has a negative effect on language education. In other words, the ideas of “language as a subject of study” and “situations in which that language can be used” are often not intertwined; there tends to be an alienation between “I, who study this language” and the “I, who uses this language.” This is why it’s necessary when conducting language education to devise a way in which the language learner can think of “language itself” and “using the language” as being directly connected. The basis of selecting learning materials and preparing activities are one and the same: “Is your language alive?”
Translated from the original Japanese by Noah Oskow.
