Japanese "In Groups" and "Out Groups"

If you've studied Japan much, you've probably read about or gotten a sense of the Japanese concept of "in groups" and "out groups." One's "in group" can be one's family, one's social circle, members of one's company, or even one's country--it really depends on the context. It follows, of course, that the "out group" is made up of anyone who doesn't fall into the "in group" one's discussing at the time.

This all seems pretty readily understandable. These groups determine with whom you share your actual opinion, how much of yourself you reveal, and it also changes your level of formality or how aloof you appear.

I thought I had a decent understanding of this concept. And then I started shopping.

In stores here, even in relatively small ones, if there are departments, employees are assigned to one, and they do not intermingle. I used to work for a grocery store where everyone did everything: in a given shift, we'd stock shelves, unpack shipments, work on the register, help out in the flower section, etc. Basically the complete opposite. And here's how I came to understand this:

I'd ask an employee who'd be near to the department where the product I had a question about or was looking for was--they'd be standing on the other side of a walkway between some shelves--and they wouldn't know a thing about it. They wouldn't know where it might be, they wouldn't know what brands they might have, nothing. This is also the case at my school--it's like that idiom, the left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing, has come alive. One department has absolutely no idea what is going on at another. And this is even in the office that is dedicated to helping foreigners' times at the school go smoothly. They don't know if the career center can help me, they don't know what cafeterias are open, I have no choice but to go out on myself to individual areas of campus and find the answers.

Another example of this concept's integration into daily life here is the sheer amount of divisions they have for geographical areas. In the States, we'll have a library system for a given city or geographical area and then branches for various neighborhoods, but they all are part of the same library. Here, instead of having an Osaka library system, there are dozens of libraries all completely independent of each other that do not trade books back and forth or look anything remotely like what we have in the States. Also, my host family does not make it out of their neighborhood very often. They have a community center and the girls' schools here, their grocery store close by, all their friends live within a few blocks, and that my host dad's parents live a 20 minute drive away is considered far, so we only saw them about once a month, as opposed to my host mom's parents whom we saw about every week.

It is definitely different from the environment in which I was raised. A very key concept, and helps one to understand a great deal about Japanese culture, so please look into it! What is the culture like where you're from? Is it one large community, or many small? Is it as clearly divided as Japan? Let me know in the comments!

Am I a hypocrite? Why is everyone else so much BETTER THAN ME??

I recently wrote about not comparing yourself to others and about being in the highest level Japanese my campus offers. I said in the latter post that I'm intimidated by my classmates at the same level. In only our second class, I found myself panicking, wondering if I really belong in this level and how everyone is so much better than me, how they understand and know so many more words than me, and how they can speak so much better and more naturally than me.

And then I realized I'm being a complete hypocrite. I'm not practicing what I preach. One thing is that I spent most of the month-long winter break not speaking Japanese, certainly not conversationally anyway, and instead speaking English all day every for three weeks while my mom and step-dad were in the country. The other factor is that, since I came home from the vacation two days before the semester started, I have not slept well. This will be continued in a post about living alone in Japan, but my upstairs neighbor has been a serious nuisance and kept me from sleeping through the night once in the last three weeks or so, so I'm a little addled on coffee and not thinking too clearly.

Yet another factor that makes some of my classmates intimidating is that three of my classmates were in the same level last semester (it's required to take Japanese, so they're taking it again). So, though we're now at the same level, some of us have been studying at this level longer than others. Surprisingly, I am one of two Americans, and one of three Western people--the other five are from either Hong Kong or China, so I do have to allow for some advantages they have with kanji.

Anyway, I guess it just goes to show that what a person teaches best is often what they're worst at. It's important to keep things in perspective, yet also remember we're human and deviate from what we know to be a good way of thinking. Good luck in your studies!

High-level Language Ability = God?!

I wrote last month on comparing yourself to others, and this is a continuation in the same vein.

As of this semester, I am studying at the highest level of Japanese that my campus offers. Even last semester, a level lower, when people would find out that distinction they would invariably say, "Wow!" or shock in some way. Most of them would then shift the focus onto their own ability and how bad they feel that it's so incomparably lower. Somehow, when people start to perceive a significant difference between their own ability and another's, the person classified at a lower level seems to suddenly think that there's no way the two of them have anything in common. I'm blowing the situation out of proportion, but it really feels almost like people are starstruck sometimes.

When I went to a Japanese immersion program in 2014, I was at level 2 out of 6, I think, and I definitely remember meeting the level 6 students (of whom there were only about 6--there were closer to 25 or 30 in mine) and reacting the same way. Wow! I'd think. Having a person at such a level beyond my own was like looking up at a mountain I didn't know how they'd climbed. And yet, one of my closest friends from that summer, with whom I'm still in touch, was one of the people in that level. We were still able to communicate in our target language, even though I hadn't yet learned a lot of very basic grammar, vocabulary, etc. and she had lived in Japan for multiple years.

Now that I'm on the other end, I have to say that, yes, it's nice to have my accomplishment recognized. Until a few days ago when a new friend called me out on it, I was quite sheepish about even saying it. My language ability is something I've put a lot of time into, and I'm proud of it. Yet it also makes me feel like I become unrelatable. This made me wonder about pros all over the world and how they must react to such praise. Famous tennis players, contest and prize winners, accomplished chefs, famous actors... If we took the time to get to know people, I think we'd find that everyone has someone they're surprisingly or even shockingly good and/or accomplished at. At the end of the day, we're all just people. We all have things we're better at and worse at than others. Andy Roddick may be excellent at tennis, but perhaps he can't do a handstand, or maybe he sucks at making omelets.

Another pattern I've noticed is that people think that, because I'm at a high level, my class must be easy. This is really something that I've heard multiple times. I'm sure if these people asking really took a second to think about what they're asking, they'd see that it makes no sense. The classes don't get any easier and they don't get any harder. There is always stuff to learn. Even people with an N1 on the JLPT likely could not discuss a lot of topics native speakers can like basic biology, theatre, outer space, health issues, etc. I also get questions about the format of my class--it's the same as the other ones. It's not like you suddenly enter into a secret society with rogue methods of teaching us the Divine Secrets of the Orient. And I'm sure people also think I don't make mistakes anymore. What's funny is that, at a different campus of my school, I hear there are even higher levels. So I and my classmates aren't even the most accomplished Japanese students at our school!

In line with my "The Danger of Comparing Yourself to Others" post, I also pointed out that we all have different strengths within our target language. Because I'm at the highest level offered here, people assume that I and my classmates are the best at Japanese. But I've heard some students even a couple levels lower than me who are shockingly great speakers, much better than me. I'm sure there are students below my level who are much better readers or their casual speech is better, or they speak with better grammar than me. I imagine some of these students could probably get into my level if they had the confidence, drive, or the desire to study up and ask. In the end, the levels are arbitrary--even within the same level, we all move at our own pace.

When you meet someone who's at a more advanced level than you in your target language (or any skill you're learning), rather than feeling intimidated, look to them for inspiration. You can even ask them a tip or two, and they might even be willing to be a resource to you during your study. With dedication and keeping at it, you will get there. Good luck!