ARRANGING FLOWERS
CHILDREN IN A CHRYSANTHEMUM ARBOR
It is difficult to say whether this sudden change of heart comes from an inherited belief in the divine right of rulers or is the first cropping-out of that Eastern fatalism forcibly expressed in the word “Shikataganai” (“There is no help for it”). A partial explanation might be found in the attitude of most Japanese parents to the teacher in both kindergarten and school. By some strange reasoning they argue that it is the teacher’s business in life to train children; therefore from its earliest days the teacher is held before the child as a power from whose word there is no appeal. Frequently a mother says to her unmanageable offspring:
“What will happen when the sensei [teacher] hears of your rudeness?” or, “I shall speak to your teacher to command you to obey me.” Often the appeal is made direct to the teacher: “My daughter does not bow correctly,” or “She is neglectful of duty. Please remind her.”
The value of using the teacher as a prop or commander-in-chief lies in the fact that most of the profession realize their responsibility and earnestly endeavor to live up to the trust. They seek to share every experience of the pupil’s life, and are faithful leaders to the highest ideals they know.
There is a tendency in most Japanese kindergartens to make of them elementary schools in which much of the spirit of play is lost in an effort on the part of the teachers to give formal instruction. The inclination is to fit the child to the rule; to follow to the last detail a written law, at the sacrifice of spontaneity. Formality finds steady resistance in the buoyancy of youth; and how childhood will have its fling, refusing to wear the shackles till it must, is expressed in the despair of a little Japanese teacher who had worked in vain to make an unessential point in posture: “I have the great trouble. They just will kick up their heels spiritually [spiritedly].”
In addition to the gifts, games, and songs usually found in the kindergartens, there is a specific training in patriotism, loyalty, and physical endurance by the constant repetition of certain stories emphasizing these virtues that have been told from generation to generation. Stories of brave men and women are dramatized. Day after day the child takes part in these simple plays. So earnest is the acting, so unwavering are the ideals presented at this very early age, that the mind is saturated with the principle of the sacrifice of the individual for the good of the whole.
In all circumstances, stress is laid upon outward courtesy, regardless of time or consequences. The key-note in the mimic plays is kindness to a fallen foe. Often there is an organized band of tiny Red Cross workers, who in full uniform are ever on the alert in the games to render quick aid to the supposedly wounded. The play is very real and sincere, and it fosters a spirit of kindness and sympathy never wholly lost in later years.