School Cleaning Japan Style

There were still a few open parking places when I pulled into my little girl’s public kindergarten at nine to 8 a.m. this morning.  I’d dropped off my oldest boy and two of his friends at their jr. high for tennis practice on the way.  The drive there with three 7th graders in the car left me in a great mood. The two kids in the back kept giggling and saying “wakaranai” (I don’t understand) every time I said something. The oldest boy riding shotgun understood everything of course, but he said “wakaranai” too. Gotta fit in. I get that. I peppered my English with Japanese so I knew they did in fact understand some. I overcorrected a few turns on the curvy country road making the two in the back seat lean into each other. They laughed themselves silly. Three year old or thirteen makes no difference to me, kid laughter is the best.  Thus the good mood when I arrived at the kindergarten.

Car parked towel in hand I walked with the other arriving parents to the kindergarten grounds behind the school. Once gathered you had to find your kid’s name on the back door. The names were written on pieces of tape and separated by classroom names. I found はな and stuck it on my shirt. 

At exactly, and I mean exactly, 8:00 a.m., the schoolmaster greeted us all―a half circle of parents facing her―about 20 or so dads standing on one side and 30 or so moms on the other. I instinctively took my place on the dad side. I’m the only American, indeed the only non-Japanese, so do my best to do as the Romans do.

“Ohayo gozaimasu” We were greeted with a good morning and a bow. “Thank you for coming. You’re all busy. Thank you. Thank you. A few more words mixed in with a few more thank yous then the mic is passed off to one of the dads. 

I understand 100% of what’s being said in contexts like these. That’s not always the case in Japan. There’s still so much I miss and never will understand. So goes being a stranger in a strange land. But I get it all at kindergarten clean up day. That pleases me. 

Another good morning, another bow, another thanks and few more words then another mic pass to one of the teachers. 

Another good morning, more bowing, more thanks we know you’re all busy along with a promise we’ll try to finish up in a couple hours. 

It's parents clean the public kindergarten day!

I get a kick out of people watching as we all stand around for morning greetings. All Japanese sans me but a wide mix of kinds of people really―men and women of all shades and stripes, blue collar and white collar, country looking folk and city looking folk, one younger dad showing up late in a baggy, shiny sweatsuit with baseball hat on crooked and three sparkly silver earrings in one ear. The rough looking dad who’s always covered in clothing mid neck to the ends of wrists and ankles even at hot summer events is there. I’m 99% sure he’s tatted up from head to toe yakuza style.  I smile and give him my gruffest “ohayo gozaimasu “good morning”. He doesn’t say much but I bet we could share some similar tales of drinking or fighting or the like since I don’t quite have a choir boy background either.  

Then there’s the high fashion moms, the matching sweats clad dad with his rubber boots and cleaning rag in a fancy shopping bag, a dad wearing high dollar rubber boots and coveralls with brand new pruning sheers in hand, a few other dads in older clothes with pruning sheers or saws they brought from home, fat dads and skinny dads, chatty moms and quiet moms, most all but me have gloves in hand. Gloves and helmets are big for any kind of work in Japan. I have neither. I’m American dang it! Badges? We don’t need no stinking badges! I mean gloves. 

Starting speeches and greetings finished we all go to our respective groups. There are two other dads and me along with a lot of moms in Megumi sensei’s group. She’s my little girl’s teacher. She’s a black belt in karate. I like that. I actually trained in the same dojo with her when I first arrived in Japan. She’s freak’n tough! Her “Kiai!” alone is enough to make most wet themselves before turning tail and running. Attackers entering schools are almost nonexistent in Japan. Gun wielding attackers are non existent. I like that too. Still there’s no shortage of nutcases and psychopaths here either so I’m glad my little girl’s teacher is a bad ass karate lady.  

She gives us our jobs. Other groups are out pruning trees, cleaning the big covered rain gutters around the perimeter of the school and grounds, pulling weeds and the like. Our group was on window duty.

Everyone had a zoukin cleaning rag in hand. Everyone brought their own as I guess was written somewhere. Everyone but me that is. Doh! I borrowed one from the school and worked extra hard to make up for the zoukin fail. 

Two low pressure hoses and four buckets, two brushes and two small step ladders we all get to cleaning cobwebs off the screens, scrubbing and washing windows. We’re told just to leave the screens on.  I start to become critical. You’re doing it all wrong! You need to take the screens off dang it! You need to use dry rags after washing otherwise the windows will look like hell. I caught myself midway through my mental criticizing.  It’s cleaning the school, yeah, but it’s so much more than that. 

I’ve joined in on kindergarten and elementary school cleaning for all three of our kids and will go clean the middle school in time I’m sure. I’ve gone to the elementary school a number of times and once so far to the junior high before work to stand out front and greet kids as they arrive for school in the morning. Cleaning the schools, greetings kids at the schools, most if not all parents take part in things like this. We see each other. We say a few words. We get to know who is whose mom or dad. We sometimes realize “Oh our kids are friends”. It’s not about cleaning and greeting so much as it is about community. I know this so I don’t jump in and try to improve their purely substandard cleaning method (by my expert cleaner American standards).  

We’re not even close to being finished by my expert cleaner standards. Look at those cobwebs up there! Look at that screen there’s still all kinds of dust in the corner. No. We’re done. We’ve all cleaned together. We’ve talked. We’ve all glanced around at name tags and all have a bit better idea of who is whose dad or mom. We gather around in a half circle again.  

In her closing speech the schoolmaster said “Okage sama”.  It’s one of my favorite phrases in Japanese. My favorite poet Mitsuo Aida, or Tim Jenson the translator of many of his poems rather, translates it to “Our debt to others.”. I love that. Nobody does it alone. No I did not build this. I did not clean this. I did not make this. I did not achieve this. Not alone. Absolutely nothing is possible in this life without the help of others. Like it or not we’re all indebted to one another. The game is rigged. It’s best that way. The sooner we come to accept it the sooner we find real peace and joy. Or so has been my experience at least.