Journey to the Center of My Mind Pt. 2

Howdy! Here we are again, digging around in my mind. It is a very uncomfortable place to be; as I have found. Yet, what choice to I have? It is my fucking mind after all. You see, recently I have been pushed to the edge. A lot of things have built up inside of me. I have smacked into too many brick walls which has caused me to explode with an anger which worries me. I did not realize I was filled with such an anger. While I still refuse to engage in a vision quest, I do need to figure out what is going on inside of my mind. So, lets explore shall we?

I remember something my daddy told me once. He said, `Boy. A job is not a job, it is an opportunity.` My father died from a drug O.D. several years ago but his words were burned into my mind. My father was a scum bag but at least he worked damn hard. With that said, I have noticed a very disturbing trend. The harder I work the harder I get fucked in the ass by sub par pricks who advanced in their careers by playing politics instead by good old fashioned hard work. I really have a strong distaste for politics at work.

Here is an example:

I was working at one of the numerous branches. The company likes to spread me so thin that I hardly remember the names of the students; but that is another matter all together. For a long time I have been writing my own lessons because the textbook really is shit to me at this point. `Official` company policy is that all lessons must be taught from that damn book. I cover my ass by always telling a student to refer to one of the lessons from the book. The lesson had gone down pretty good and the student enjoyed the lesson well enough. There was a mid-level Japanese manager at the branch that day. I know this bitch very well. She has a habit of stealing everyone`s thunder and taking credit for everything she can. She is a social climber and a real snake in the grass. Student tells her that he enjoyed the lesson. This bitch sits there and goes on and on about how `valuable` the text book is. Remember, she saw me pull my own lesson from my bag and print out copies. She knew that I had used my own material and did not use the book. Yet, she totally discredited everything I had just done. Instead, she steals all my hard work and gives credit to `the system.` A system I did not use and had nothing to do with the lesson I created and used for the lesson. When the student leaves, this bitch smiles at me with a shit eating grin as to say, `I fucked you again gaijin. I will never give you credit for anything.`

It is this kind of shit which is starting to have a very negative effect on my mind.

I am not the best teacher in the world. There are a lot of things I still need to learn even after several years of being a teacher. WTF? At least give credit where credit is due. All the backstabbing underhanded shit is really starting to boil my blood and filling me a deep hatred for humanity. This is not good for my mental or spiritual well being. I could quit but I got to think about taking care of my gal. I do look around the job market a lot Most of the gigs out there right now are set up in a way to kill off all creativity and reduce the teacher to nothing more than a gaijin puppet to be used as a cash cow profit making machine. At least the company I am working for now will let me have some sort of creative control and pays we decently well. They are just so damn stubborn to give a foreigner credit for anything. It is like the Japanese management have some sort of block in their brain. They cannot admit the hard work of any foreigner. This is not unique to Japan. The same thing happens in America. If you are a foreigner in America a lot of people will take advantage of you. Japan is just a bit more out in the open about it.

All I want is credit for my hard work. Being discredited for my hard work is really twisting my head up big time. Tokyo is a rough ass city. The daily stress of living in the city can be enough to drive someone to madness. While I have adjusted to the rough and tumble Tokyo lifestyle, the whole idea of keeping me under a boot in order to advance other people`s political agenda at work is creating a lot of hate in my heart. I see too much of the bad side of humanity. Too many lairs and sold-out blood thirsty fuckers come at me looking to suck me dry all the damn time. Everyone wants something from me. Well, I want something too. A little damn respect would be nice. At least stop fucking with me. I don`t want all this hate in my heart. I am only human. I am left with the option to attempt to take it all on the chin. The people who run my company are fucked up. I must learn to accept this or else I will go crazy.        

Journey to the Center of My Mind

Here we are again yall. Another muse from the gaijin ghost of Tokyo. I have been real intense the past two months. At times I have been a real asshole. As usual, I have been fighting to survive. It has been like this all my life. It is just the way it is I guess. Yet, I have long since abandoned my own personal vision quest. Most folks spend their entire lives on a vision quest. Living their lives in tunnel vision. It is a wonderful way to live actually. Ya don`t have to be bothered with the concerns of what is happening around ya. The world could turn to shit and you would never know it. I stopped my vision quest at the age of 24.

At the tender age of 24 I decided who I was and what I was all about. I decided that my only choice was to fight for my own survival. I had been raised damn poor. I had struggled to make it as far as college. I felt that I was lucky to be alive. I realized that I will always be held underwater. It is Ryan Vs. The World. So, here I am now living in Japan. The struggles carries on it seems.

While I deeply love Tokyo, I still find myself at odds with the world at large. I don`t fit in, even among fellow gaijin. I don`t admit this very often but I often feel awkward when attending large parties with co-workers or drinking at a crowded bar. In the back of my mind this little voice says, `Fuck these people. They don`t really care about you and would most likely sell you out in a heart beat.` I try real hard to resist the emotions which are sparked inside of me when I hear that little voice speak to me. It is kind of like going against my gut feeling and submitting to logic. Yet, damn near every time I allow pure logic to rule over my judgment, I end up saying something I shouldn`t or someone takes advantage of me. As long as I stay on my guard everything is mostly okay. As soon as I cast off my natural keenness and gut reactions something get out of wrack.. This is not to say that people cannot make my heart bleed from time to time.

This is where things get complex. You see I know that most folks are little fucking snakes in the grass. There are a hell of a lot of people who will take advantage of me and step on me for their own gain. This raw fact of humanity makes it very hard to know when to bring the iron fist or the soft hand. Recently I have been using only the iron fist. I usually do that when I feel powerless or under an extended amount of high stress. Asshole Ryan is a very hard person to deal with. Even when people are trying to help me I will not trust them if I feel I am in a oppressive situation. Put me in a corner and I will come out fighting with all guns blazing. Everyone becomes a target and no one is spared my rage. It is shitty of me to be like that but too many years of having to fight to survive causes me to adopt this mindset. On the other hand it is hard for me to resist a person who is showing weakness. If I cannot see someone in situations which they need to make a moral judgment, their crying, grace, smiles or general down to earth attitude can confuse me and cause me to let my guard down. Unless I got some background or reference as a base, extremely friendly people concern me.

Still, I find myself having a deep sense of sympathy for my fellow humans. We are just rats running around in a grid controlled by truly vile pieces of shit. Those really running the show are far darker and twisted than anything us slaves could work up the balls to hold up as some kind of sick moral fiber. In the middle of defending myself from the rest of the rats and slave masters, I somehow still have a strong sense of love, honor and manhood firmly ingrained into my head.

Yeah, taking a journey into the center of my mind is not easy for me. There is some major screws loose along with several demons which need to be dealt with.    

Tainted By the Wickedness

I have lived in Tokyo for several years. It has been a fun ride mostly. Overall, I have enjoyed taking advantage of all that Tokyo has to offer. I could never discover such adventure and excitement in my beloved mountain home of West Virginia. Yet, in WV or Tokyo I am still Ryan. My brain works and same way as it did back in the mountains. I still view the world around me in a way which most people cannot wrap their heads around. It is not entirely their fault. Most people have been conditioned to function in a dream like state. They are only half awake most of the time. In my life experience I have noticed that most people do not mature past the age of sixteen. Most folks rely on the same childish shithead methods of getting what they want as they did when they were a fucking teenager. I thought this kind of thing was almost exclusive to the good old U.S.A. I thought that only in America could the population be turned into a mass hoard of Nazi Zombies more than willing to support anything which pleasures the sickest parts of their ego. Damn was I wrong big time.

Before anyone labels this post some kind of `Anti-Japan` rant, let me be clear and say that I am simply stating the truth. Truth is a reality which is not flexible. Screw all these snakes out there who say that `reality is what you make it.` That is bullshit. The truth is that Tokyo is infested by blood thirsty hoards of zombies just waiting to take a bite out of you. Selling each other out is the norm here not the exception. Think of all the underhanded backstabbing crap which would get someone`s ass beat into the dirt among upstanding company and that would be the behavior of the average person in Tokyo. There are some people who are open, friendly, decently honest and will not use you. It is rare but they are out there. Yet, for the most part the average person living in Tokyo are spineless and will sell each other out for VERY little reason.

It pains me to say such things but the truth is the truth. I am losing my faith in most folks who live in Tokyo; both Japanese and foreigners. With that said, I don`t hate living in Tokyo. This city has given me a lot. It has provided me with a life I could not have other wise. Although, being surrounded by the walking dead daily makes it hard to keep love in my heart. I think I am becoming tainted by the wickedness which all too often fuels Tokyo. I don`t want to become like the zombies I see and deal with daily. Everyday I feel the urge to be just as fucked up as the hoard of Nazi Zombies who take chunks out of me at random.

To resist being totally tainted I speak the truth to people. When I know someone is full of shit or telling me a lie, I call them on it quickly. Far too often I have said to folks, `You are telling a lie to me` or `Speak directly to me and remember I know what you are trying to do.` Even when I do that a lot of folks still try to pull shit on me. It is amazing. I think this progression of my mindset will be interesting. I must watch myself a bit closer and catch myself slipping into a twisted mindset. I will keep all of you posted on this for sure.  

Damned If You Do; Damned If You Don`t

I think there comes a point in which most half-way decent English teachers in Japan say to themselves, `Fuck! If I work hard I get fucked over. If I am a lazy bastard I get fucked over. The union is a joke and management will not listen to me at all. What is the point of trying anymore.` I have seen this happen to several teachers. They simply give up and only keep coming to work everyday because there is money to be made. This is a sad situation, but one I see far too often. I still wonder, What causes this situation?

The finger of blame could be pointed at many suspects. Are foreign management to blame? It is true that often, but with some exception of course, foreign management attacks other teachers for their own self-centered agenda. They are usually an aggressive bunch carrying a cold blooded nature about them in general. It is common for them to only care about protecting their own position. Dealing with such management could easily make many teachers give up all hope. I have seen some brutal shit come from foreign management. Let me be clear, I have also seen some damn good, honest and fair foreign managers who really tried to improve lesson quality. Yet, this is rare and not the norm.

Can we put the burden of blame on Japanese management? The `end game` purpose of Japanese management is to turn a profit. They should have little care for lesson quality or the welfare of the teachers. It is not their concern. They usually prefer to spend their time crunching numbers and battling it out for position. The amount of arrogance and unfounded pride which flows form them will make any dedicated teacher sick to their very soul. Most Japanese management will make it very clear to you, by way of their dismissive attitude, that they don`t care about you. You, the teacher, seen to be a necessary evil to them. You are not human in their eyes. Rather you are more of a product to be used for the purpose of turning a profit. Dealing with such folks could easily make any hardworking teacher not give a fuck about their job or the duty they have to the students.

Yet, can we also point the finger at the teachers themselves? A lack of a backbone perhaps? You must be a strong person to live and teach English in Japan. Remember you are a gaijin which makes you a minority. A stranger in a strange land. No one really invited you here. Trust me, it has taken me a long time to accept that fact. To really be an elite teacher you must develop a deep passion for teaching. You have to love this shit! Not only must you love it, but you must also say this fact out loud in public from time to time. You must be willing to love you fellow brothers and sister who try hard to be a good teacher and dismiss the ones you are a sack of dog shit. Those who at least try to be a good teacher deserve a little respect. When they need advice or help working out a lesson, for fucks sake offer a little guidance and leadership. This whole idea of being a self-centered little shithead really does not help anything. It actually hurts everyone in the long run. If you think no one notices your `fuck you because I think I am hot shit` attitude then you are mistaken. If you really are a good teacher then spread the goodness to others who are also trying hard. Be the leader that is needed when foreign management waste their time playing politics and attacking anyone in kicking distance.

So who is to blame for the sad situation which often occurs with English teachers in Japan? I think that overall it is a combo of everything I mentioned in this post. Our profession in Japan is in a very sad state. We should be ashamed of ourselves. Greed, laziness and protectionism has created a fucked up situation. You know who suffers the most? It is the students who take the majority of the pain of our own shortcomings. I must end this post by saying, if you cannot handle what I just wrote then get the fuck out of the English teacher biz in Japan! Reality is a motherfucker.    

The Time I Almost Died in a Fight

Everyone loves to hear about a fight. There is something about raw violence which attracts just about anyone. So inspired by Chris who writes Confessions of a bad boy in Japan I thought I would share a fight story with yall.

It is important to note that fighting is a way of life in West Virginia. Back in the mountains, getting into a fight was nothing out of the norm. This tale happened around 2005. Like all good fight stories it involves drinking, attitudes and fucked up people.

The evening started out pretty mundane. I was at my place just chilling out. A buddy of mine, Jon, called me up wanting to hang and have a few beers. I had nothing better to do so I got in my car and headed over to his house. He had a pretty big house and always plenty of beer. He was a cool dude so I was all about wanting to hangout for a while. He lived in Princeton which is a fucked up town full of drug addicts and street slime. The kind of town where folks will knife you over a few pills. I was so used to the damn area that I did not give a fuck. Jon was cool and I wanted to chat and get drunk. I really was not concerned about some street slime making trouble; damn was I wrong.

As soon as I showed up at Jon house we started drinking. He must have had at least three cases of beer on hand. Beer is damn cheap in America which was good for us because we were poor hillbillies. I think we were drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon and Miller Ice. Wait a minute...Yes! It must have been PBR because that is the one beer which will attract gutter slime every single time. I don`t know what it is about PBR that brews such madness and attracts the shit of the earth. Maybe it is the fact that when I lived in the states 30 cans of PBR was only 13.00 bucks. It is a fun beer as well. It is granddad`s beer. Granddad always gets a good PBR buzz and tells ya war stories about fighting Nazis. Well, in my case I drink PBR and tell ya about drinking PBR and almost dying.

Any damn way, we were getting drunk and having a good conversation about libertarianism. Jon was a hard nosed working class rebel like myself but he was smart as well. We washed dishes together at a local restaurant. I was finishing up college, he was trying to survive along with a gang of other misfits living in his house. Regardless, we were enjoying the cheap PBR and the conversation very much. Unexpectedly he received a phone call from someone he clearly had a shaky relationship with. After a lot of swearing and threats of violence, Jon hangs up the phone and lets me know that,`Some good weed is on the way.` Only a fool passes up good weed so he had my interest. At that point I should have known that shit was about to turn sour. I was a bit too drunk to listen to my natural instincts.

About a half hour later I hear someone banging on the front door and yelling, `Jon! Open the fucking door! Jon! You bastard! You know I was coming! Why is the fucking door locked!` With such a greeting, gutter slime from the street had found its way to Jon`s front door. This was the same person who Jon had had a not so pleasant phone conversation with earlier. Jon opened the door and the guy barged into the house while talking pure shit the entire time. I laid eyes on a skinny red head guy who was so pale it looked like he had been on a four day coke binge. He wore clothes that were slightly dirty, but at least he did not smell bad. He took one look at me and said,`You the fuck are you? Are you a cop?` The only thing I could say back to this dickhead was, `No I`m not a cop. But you look like you need a drink.` I gave him a can of PBR which seem to chill him out a bit. He dragged Jon into a back room apparently to do a dope deal. I don`t know what happened in those ten minutes they were alone in that back room but something went wrong...really really wrong.

I heard a large crash and thump followed by swearing. I walked into the back room to find the two of them attempting to kick each other`s asses. There were throwing punches, falling down, trying to kick each other as they got up and then throw some more punches. I was just drunk enough to find the scene funny. I stepped back and let them go. It was like watching a fucked up street brawl between two people who should not be fighting anyone for any reason. Jon was drunk and the red head fucker was too skinny to put up a decent fight. Yet, they seemed determined to fuck each other up over something I am still not clear about to this very day.

After a while they started to run out of juice. They backed away from each other, breathing heavily, and giving each other the evil eye. A few `fuck you` were exchanged as the red head fucker lit up a joint and passed it to me. I took a few drags and handed it to Jon. The fight seem to be coming to an end until Jon took a long drag off the joint and said something to the effect of,`You always act this way when I have company. You have to disrespect me and embarrass me in front of my friends. You asshole!` Jon walked out of the room with the joint. His words and actions were just enough to spur chaos. The red head fucker pulled out a knife and started making threats to Jon. That bastard was waving his knife around daring anyone to do something about it. I had finally had enough of that piece of street slime. I walked right up to him, gave him a leg sweep, and a punch directly in the jaw. We went down headed for the floor as I wanted to get him down and beat the shit out of him...things did not go as planned.

He fell all the way to the floor. Unfortunately, my head meet the end of an exposed heating knob on an old steam heater. The details of what happened after that are fuzzy. When I regained control of my brain I remember there being a pool of blood on the floor, blood on the walls, blood on me and blood on the red head fucker. I was also laying into the bastard and saying random evil things. The bastard was screaming,`Jon! Get this crazy motherfucker off me!` From what I can remember, Jon pulled me off and the red head fuck started making more threats. After that I blackouted from blood lose. I remember some kind of argument occurred as I staggered out of Jon`s house. Somehow I actually drove back to Athens.

I ended up knocking on the door of my close friend Josh. He was the only person I knew who would help me. I should have went to the hospital but I was poor and did not want to have to pay for an overpriced stitch up. I seem to remember blacking out again when Josh answered his door. None the less good old Josh came though. He took me to my apartment and called one of our good buddies to help. They discovered that I was cut all the way to my skull. Josh cleaned the gash with rubbing alcohol and  used super glue to close it up. For good measure he put several band aids over it which I replaced every day. It took several months for the gash to heal. I learned an important lesson. Never fight drunk with crazy gutter slime.  

 

Rebellion is a Love Affair

Rebellion has been apart of my life since I was old enough to understand that breaking the rules and making trouble is really fun. Even when I knew that society would shun me and my life would be difficult, I have often choose to say `fuck it` and buck the system. There is this fire in me that drives me to look at society and think `what a bunch of bullshit.` I need life to be a little edgy and dangerous. I feel comfortable when there is a lack of rules and authority. It feels damn good when I can do what ever the fuck I want to do. When my actions are not controlled and being a little odd is normal; I am happy as a pig in shit. Case in point is a recent adventure I made to Earthdom in Shin-Okubo. 

 

To tell the truth, I make it out to a few lives shows every month. I don`t really announce these adventures often and I damn sure don`t blog about them so much. It is just something I kind of do. It is my little world I go to in order to get the fuck away from all the shit of conformity I put up with daily. You would not believe the amount of stomach zombie pricks I put up with just to earn some cash and survive in our twisted world.  Truly soulless fucks who deserve nothing more than a punch in the mouth for being such a little worm. I really wanna go ape shit crazy on some of those little imps at times. I usually hold back because I want the cash and do not want to deal with their sorry asses anymore than I have to. I am sure that the only way to really get some of them to back off would be to kill them. It just makes since to give them a dirty look, speak my peace, and move on to something more interesting. That `something` more interesting is going to a underground live house, seeing some kick ass bands and hanging with people who have a love affair with rebellion. 

 

So yeah, the Earthdom is a joint I discovered a few years back. I have seen a lot of kick ass bands at this place over the years. Tiger Army, Balzac, and Hat Trickers are the best bands I have seen play at Earthdom. They got pretty good equipment so the music usually sounds great. Yet, it more than just the music which keeps pulling me back to the hell hole which is Earthdom; it is the people. The place kinds of creates an environment where you can be yourself. There are no poser sold-out pricks to fuck things up. A lot of the folks are younger, like late teens to mid-twenties who Japanese society tossed into the FAIL bin before most of them even got a chance to shine. They just wanna hang out, get a little drunk and listen to killer bands play. Fights never happen and folks are damn friendly and forward. The kind of folks you meet at Earthdom are not your run of the mill Japanese. It is rebellion in it`s most raw form. Forget everything you think you know about Japan when hanging out at this place. As an added bonus they let you bring in your own booze!

 

Going to a place like Earthdom, and seeing kick ass bands and hanging with people who don`t give a fuck about all the bullshit in society, reminds me that all the shit I deal with is just that SHIT. Rebellious people who sometimes make trouble and burn the world for no reason, are more alive than any dickhead who is so proud of their job and position. Those of us who are willing to say `fuck this shit` and mean it live a life of higher value than any of these so-called well functioning members of society. Being able to express yourself freely and being loud, rude and sometimes even doing things which are slightly dangerous is better than always playing by the rules and kissing ass. Yeah, rebellion is a love affair.   

Lesson Planning Time: The Great Debate

I have met a lot of foreigner English teachers during my time in Japan so far. I guess it is only nature because I work in the same field. While it is true that there are a lot of shitty English teachers in Japan, there are also some who are really good. It is hard for me to judge myself so I usually rank myself above average. I feel there is still a lot I need to learn before I can call myself an elite teacher. I still want to go though a TESOL or CELTA course to get the experience of formal, and effective, training. Most of what I have learned has come from actual teaching experience and shop talk with teachers I consider to be really good at teaching. Yet, there is one thing which I have spent endless hours talking about with some damn good teachers; lesson planning time.

It is a must to have enough lesson planning time. It frustrates me to no end when I am not given enough time to plan a decent lesson. I hate having to rely on just the textbook to teach a lesson. Actually, I prefer to use a textbook as only a guide when planning a lesson. Too many companies expect a teacher to beat the hell out of lessons from one textbook for several years. A lot of companies also will not offer any new material for the teacher to work with. Combined that with the fact that lesson planning is often reduced to 10 to 15 minutes, and any teacher who gives a damn will soon find themselves beating their head against the wall until they are left with a bloody stump for a brain.

I usually end up trying to write up lessons at home. I want to give students damn good useful lessons so I do all the leg work myself when I have the time. It usually takes me two hours to write up a decent lesson. I do it all when it comes to writing my own lesson. From topic, language to be taught, and activities it can take a while to put the whole thing together. This would not be such a big problem if it was not for the arrogance I run into from management. Usually foreigner management understand how damn hard I am trying and gives me little shit for writing my own lessons. Most of them encourage me to give it my all. Yet, the J-management can be the biggest gang of assholes when it comes to teachers who try to move beyond doing everything straight from the textbook. Let me be clear, this is not a anti-Japan rant. I am simply speaking from experience.

I have been mocked and laughed at by a lot of J-management when it comes to creating my own lessons. I don`t understand this at all. It is like they `be damned` if a teacher can go beyond the piss poor training they think is the end all of end all to shape a good teacher. Foreign trainers really do try hard but in many cases their hands are tied. They have to reduce training to nothing more than evaluations and little in the way of improving a teacher`s ability actually occurs. Try to talk to J-management about it and its like talking to a fucking brick wall. They just don`t listen to anything which comes out of a teachers mouth. I mean god damn what is it? Fucking pride! I am not in the habit of kissing someone`s ass just to get them to take me seriously. It is clear that I try damn hard to up my game as a teacher and if someone wants to laugh off my efforts then I consider that very sad indeed.

Apart from dealing with a damn brick wall attitude I still want to find a way to have more time for lesson planning. Usually, I work on lessons when I have nothing better to do but that needs to change. I am currently putting myself on a more strict life discipline plan and scheduling certain times to create lessons is going to be factored into this. I want to at least have three times a week in which I sit down for several hours and work on lessons. I know I will have to do this at home because the company I currently work for is not going to give me, or pay me, to be at work and create lessons instead of teaching. Well, I am not making my own lessons for the company. I am doing it for myself and the students. I believe that students deserve more than getting the same old tired lessons over and over again from a textbook which is way past it`s prime.

So what do yall think? How much time should a teacher need every week to plan lessons? I want to hear a lot of opinions so spread this post around to other teachers you know of who actually give a damn about quality.