My journey teaching English in Japan for the last six years was a tapestry woven with the threads of cultural exchange and linguistic discovery. Also frustration.
Excitement filled the air as I embarked on this adventure, ready to immerse myself in a new culture. Little did I know that beyond the language barriers, a more subtle challenge awaited me — the lack of cultural education around mental health and psychological conditions.
A highly conservative Asian country, talking about things in Japan like ADHD or autism in students and adapting to their needs was surely taboo. Managers with knowledge of teaching from 30 years ago still think psychology means labelling others as mad and exposing private secrets that no one should know or else their face would be lost. You know?
Some parents might even let their kids behave uncontrollablly rather than see a child psychologist to ensure the safety of their progeny. Such practices coming from a western educated background looked recidivistic to me.
In the classrooms of Japan, where my students were drilled in the intricacies of the English language, I encountered a culture deeply rooted in discipline and perseverance. However, as I delved deeper into the lives of my students, I began to notice a silence surrounding mental health. In conversations, there were references to stress, anxiety, and overwhelming pressure, yet no open dialogue addressing these concerns. Students whether they be adults or children complained about things like work or loneliness. The legend about Japanese isolationism seemed true!
The language barrier was indeed a hurdle, but it became increasingly evident that the silence surrounding mental health was a more significant obstacle. Expressing emotional struggles was not a cultural norm, and the stigma attached to mental health conditions persisted in the shadows. I think the culture of perfectionism and fear of making mistakes exacerbated second language acquisition for sure. It's one of the most common obstacles my peers discussed with me.
One particular incident crystallized the need for a shift in awareness. A student, whom I'll call Yuka (about 7 years old), showed signs of emotional distress. Through our language lessons, I realized people's learning styles are different because their states of mind are different. Yuka had been attending lessons in my school at that time since she was 2 years old yet could not spell or remember the shape of the English Alphabet. I still don't know if it's a lack of motivation or a learning disability. I heard she was not doing well at school either compared to her older brother.
My Japanese colleague told me all that.
Yuka's case is not so rare. Who knows if she had depression or had a different learning style from being neurodivergent. Foreign teachers cannot be privy to this information usually as Japanese tend to hide their weaknesses with the mask of their national identity: Japaneseness.
As I sought resources to support Yuka, I found a conspicuous absence of mental health education within the community.
In Japan, mental health concerns often linger in the periphery, unaddressed and misunderstood. The lack of cultural education around mental well-being compounds the challenges faced by those navigating the intricate web of societal expectations.
I could go on but I'll stop here.
This experience became a catalyst for my commitment to mental health advocacy, leading to the inception of Dear Brunei, a platform aimed at fostering awareness and understanding of psychological well-being. The journey from teaching English in Japan to initiating this platform has been a testament to the vital need for open conversations surrounding mental health. Being ignorant and not knowing oneself leads to a lifetime of regret and brokenness. Isolation comes when we don't understand why we cannot be sociable or be content with our growth.
With this platform, I aim to break down the barriers that impede discussions on mental health and challenge the stigma that often accompanies it.
My experience in Japan highlighted that effective language communication alone is not enough; a comprehensive understanding of mental health is equally crucial. As educators, we must not only teach language but also advocate for the emotional well-being of our students.
This story is not unique to Japan; it reflects a global need for better mental health awareness. We must recognize that cultural differences contribute to varying perspectives on mental well-being, and education is the key to fostering understanding.
In conclusion, my journey teaching English in Japan underscored the importance of integrating mental health education into cultural curricula. Through Dear Brunei, I strive to be a voice advocating for a world where mental health is a topic of open discussion, transcending cultural boundaries. By sharing stories, fostering empathy, and breaking the silence, we can build a more compassionate society that recognizes the universality of human emotions and the importance of mental well-being.
With love,
AD.
I am the one who edits articles on this site.
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