I loved it when Japanese schools maintained close connections with the wider community. In Kumamoto City, the fifth graders were involved in the planting of rice seedlings with the local farmers. Getting themselves literally dirty and braving the elements surely fostered a deep appreciation of food. Similarly, all sixth graders would be attached to a local enterprise for a job shadowing experience for three days. This would enable them to get acquainted with the adults and understand the role they had to play in contributing to society. I think education cannot be divorced from society, so it’s bodacious that Japanese education helps young minds find their place in the world.

Japanese schools place a premium on cleanliness — to the extent that they dedicate one whole period of 45 mins to cleaning every day. And it wasn’t just lip service. Everyone, including the principal, would be hard at work cleaning his allocated portion of the school. You may be cynical and ask if students can really be unsupervised and left to their own devices. Well, I wouldn’t say that everyone was cleaning diligently. Some were obviously going through the motions, but I dare say that no one was slacking off. The Japanese are renowned for leaving a place cleaner than when they encounter it. Just look at the World Cup, and I believe their desire to keep things spick and span is cultivated from a young age.

Japanese people generally live long lives, which may be related to how they are conditioned to exercise regularly from a young age. This doesn’t bode well for the work-life balance of long-suffering Japanese teachers, but students train very hard for their sporting co-curricular activity. Every day after school, until the sun sets. Sometimes they even have training or friendly matches on weekends (Yes, their teacher-in-charge will have to be with them). Add to that the fact that it’s not uncommon for middle school students to run as long as 25 kilometres — in winter. Japanese people are said to have deep reservoirs of resilience. Pushing their bodies to the limit might be one reason why.

To be honest, when I was living in Japan, I was flabbergasted at how the Japanese don’t impart the Hiragana alphabet at preschool level, having come from education-obsessed Singapore. I was used to a rigorous approach to education. Pre-schoolers in Singapore were expected to be able to read, write and do simple arithmetic by the time they reached primary school. Then, I was shocked to find Japanese kindergarten kids running around the playground, shouting to their hearts' content for the few times I was attached to a preschool as the special guest of the day. I think that if I hadn’t visited there to teach them simple English, they wouldn’t have done anything remotely academic! Now that I’m a father, I have since realized the importance of unstructured play — how it develops neural pathways and boosts creativity. I respect how the Japanese education system allows full reign for young children to be themselves.

I'm not exactly sure the reason for the influx in students with special educational needs these days. Perhaps it has to do with how processes have been improved, leading to more prompt diagnoses. But one thing's for sure. I have tremendous respect for how the system allocates one teacher to take care of the idiosyncratic needs of just 1-2 students. I actually asked one special education teacher during a drinking session about his pay compared to mainstream teachers. He revealed that he was paid comparably. Having come from a pragmatic country, in which organizations will try to optimize the value they extract from every individual, I was filled with immense respect at how the Japanese recognized the support needed by learning needs students and made provisions for it in their remuneration.

The devil is in the details, and Japanese teachers intentionally pursue their craft very earnestly. The concept of lesson study observation has caught on in Singapore in recent years, but a decade ago, it was already part and parcel of every Japanese teacher's portfolio. Ever so often, the entire school would be granted early dismissal, save for one class. This allowed teachers the space to congregate in the classroom with that sole class and observe the subject teacher in action. From the few sessions that I have had the privilege to observe, it seemed that the teachers took this seriously. They would gather at a classroom after the lesson and critically dissect all aspects of it. I marvelled at how the entire staff took the time out to process through their teaching practice and brainstorm of ways to refine it. I was glad to watch them exhibit the spirit of Kaizen (continual improvement).