At the Birthday BBQ.
May. 20th, 2007 04:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sechan19Yesterday evening Fujiko hosted a birthday BBQ for her friend, Ayako. Because it was my birthday as well, she asked me to join them and was very proactive about letting everyone that it was my birthday as well. Fujiko is a truly lovely person, and I am happy to be getting to know her.
I didn't speak very much during the course of the evening, because I still feel a little less than confident with that - especially when it comes to determining polite or casual speech. Everyone was speaking casually with each other, but - though I know casual speech somewhat - I wasn't quite sure that I ought to take the same liberties with strangers, young and affable though they were. I did listen, a lot, though, and I was happy to find myself getting much better at understanding conversation. When Fujiko's friends asked her if Chris prepared dinner, and Fujiko outed him by explaining that he'd only grilled the meat, I understood and was able to translate that for him. When Ayako was narrating her recent trip to Kyoto and the various stops she'd made and foods she'd eaten, I understood. When Fujiko and another friend of hers were discussing sibling rivalry and what Fujiko was expecting to deal with after her second child was born because Jeffrey's a little spoiled, I understood.
Despite my periodic difficulties in class, and my recognition that I am necessarily behind the Korean and the Chinese students in capabilities because of primary language differences, I am making progress and I will - with time and effort - master this language eventually. I know I will.
Observing the Japanese adult-child dynamic during the BBQ was fascinating. In America, I think parents are more strict with their children in some ways. Most of my friends who have children tend to be death on temper tantrums or misbehavior (and my parents certainly were). If a child acts up in my circle, they stand a strong chance of being sent on a time-out or enduring another obvious punishment. Not so, here.
Despite Jeffrey's continuous misbehaving, everyone - rather than admonishing or punishing - laughed at him and patted his head as if he were an overworked dog. Sometimes they distracted him from whatever it was that was irritating him. At first, I found the behavior annoying. Coming from my strict background, my first response to a child's tantrum is to take a hard-case stance. (A stance that has generally served me well and earned me the nickname "Auntie Jihad" with some close friends.) But as I reflected on it, it bothered me less.
I've seen adults in plenty here in Tokyo, and they are nearly all extremely well-mannered and reserved people. So clearly, this kind of parenting tactic is not as faulty as it might have initially appeared to me. It's just different. I suppose, by minimizing the importance of these tantrums - treating them like a joke or a laugh - the parents are perhaps preparing their children to take a necessarily indifferent and placid response to the daily troubles of life. Not a bad lesson at all.
Jeffrey-chan was very upset through most of the BBQ. One of the guests brought her daughter, Moe-chan (who was one of the cutest things I've ever seen), and Jeff-chan did not like sharing the spotlight with another child. Anytime anyone paid any attention to Moe, he tried to distract them. If Moe had a toy, he wanted it. If Moe was sitting in a specific seat, he wanted to sit there. He often took things from her, or walked up to her and smacked her in the face. (Prompting Moe-chan to exclaim more than once, "Nan dayo!" Effectively: What's your problem?) Occasionally she would tussle with him over a book, if she felt passionately about it, or even hit him back. And she repeatedly referred to him as kowai, or scary.
Jeff-chan is going to have a little brother or sister in November, and it's going to put one hell of a dent in his nose. His parents are going to laugh at him for that, and their laughing at him will be a valuable lesson in taking life's knocks. Parenting Tokyo-style.
I didn't speak very much during the course of the evening, because I still feel a little less than confident with that - especially when it comes to determining polite or casual speech. Everyone was speaking casually with each other, but - though I know casual speech somewhat - I wasn't quite sure that I ought to take the same liberties with strangers, young and affable though they were. I did listen, a lot, though, and I was happy to find myself getting much better at understanding conversation. When Fujiko's friends asked her if Chris prepared dinner, and Fujiko outed him by explaining that he'd only grilled the meat, I understood and was able to translate that for him. When Ayako was narrating her recent trip to Kyoto and the various stops she'd made and foods she'd eaten, I understood. When Fujiko and another friend of hers were discussing sibling rivalry and what Fujiko was expecting to deal with after her second child was born because Jeffrey's a little spoiled, I understood.
Despite my periodic difficulties in class, and my recognition that I am necessarily behind the Korean and the Chinese students in capabilities because of primary language differences, I am making progress and I will - with time and effort - master this language eventually. I know I will.
Observing the Japanese adult-child dynamic during the BBQ was fascinating. In America, I think parents are more strict with their children in some ways. Most of my friends who have children tend to be death on temper tantrums or misbehavior (and my parents certainly were). If a child acts up in my circle, they stand a strong chance of being sent on a time-out or enduring another obvious punishment. Not so, here.
Despite Jeffrey's continuous misbehaving, everyone - rather than admonishing or punishing - laughed at him and patted his head as if he were an overworked dog. Sometimes they distracted him from whatever it was that was irritating him. At first, I found the behavior annoying. Coming from my strict background, my first response to a child's tantrum is to take a hard-case stance. (A stance that has generally served me well and earned me the nickname "Auntie Jihad" with some close friends.) But as I reflected on it, it bothered me less.
I've seen adults in plenty here in Tokyo, and they are nearly all extremely well-mannered and reserved people. So clearly, this kind of parenting tactic is not as faulty as it might have initially appeared to me. It's just different. I suppose, by minimizing the importance of these tantrums - treating them like a joke or a laugh - the parents are perhaps preparing their children to take a necessarily indifferent and placid response to the daily troubles of life. Not a bad lesson at all.
Jeffrey-chan was very upset through most of the BBQ. One of the guests brought her daughter, Moe-chan (who was one of the cutest things I've ever seen), and Jeff-chan did not like sharing the spotlight with another child. Anytime anyone paid any attention to Moe, he tried to distract them. If Moe had a toy, he wanted it. If Moe was sitting in a specific seat, he wanted to sit there. He often took things from her, or walked up to her and smacked her in the face. (Prompting Moe-chan to exclaim more than once, "Nan dayo!" Effectively: What's your problem?) Occasionally she would tussle with him over a book, if she felt passionately about it, or even hit him back. And she repeatedly referred to him as kowai, or scary.
Jeff-chan is going to have a little brother or sister in November, and it's going to put one hell of a dent in his nose. His parents are going to laugh at him for that, and their laughing at him will be a valuable lesson in taking life's knocks. Parenting Tokyo-style.
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Date: 2007-05-22 05:23 am (UTC)I like the way the parents at the bbq dealt with their child, and makes perfect sense. It enables the parent to retain power.