A Childhood Story From Japan
The Pointless Argument
There seems to be a never ending argument that comes up every now and then. It is an argument that happens between generational gaps. It often comes up in various domains in our lives, from internet memes, to the schooling system, to the service industry. It is simply, “Which generation complains more?” It often seems to pit Baby Boomers against Millennials, however in doing so, over looks two other generations that get lumped into one of these two groups. More accurately it is divided between four predominant generations: Baby Boomers, The Xennials (Gen X), Millennials and iGen(or Gen Z). The most simple reason seems to be that these comprise the majority of the work force. Of course there are other reasons that this argument of who complains more exists, as it can also be seen as a self entitlement problem. For example the predominance of the social media culture of “look at me”, in younger generations is something often foreign to most of the older generation. These differences of course are not necessarily a bad thing, but people seem to often phrase it as such.
If you type in “Each generation…” in google, one of the top results is followed by “…gets worse”.
This is a trivial argument of course, that really has no definitive answer.
Now why am I talking about the argument of who complains more when the title of this article is, A Childhood Story From Japan? Relax, I am getting to it and I promise it is relevant. If your guessing that the message of this story will simply be, “Other people have had it worse, so stop complaining”, you’d be wrong. I have often thought in this fashion in the past, but a friend once told me, “just because someone has it worse, doesn’t mean it negates another’s problems”, which I have come to agree with. The following week I heard a popular pod caster echo this sentiment, saying “the notion of not recognizing other peoples pain because of your own is absurd.” Both I have taken to heart. No rather this topic of complaining was an opening conversation I had with an 81 year old Japanese lady. This would then turn into a story that gave me a different perspective on complaining.
A common practice I try to use when teaching English is asking for them to tell me a story. Often lessons can be geared towards set phrases, or language that will be helpful in a practical way. What’s equally as important as basic formal communication is being able to convey personal experiences. This student in particular is a rather high level, and loves telling stories which makes her a delight to teach. Most of the time, I don’t think she wants to be taught so much as be heard, with maybe a little English practice sprinkled in there. I began this lesson with asking her about the thoughts of each generation complaining more and teaching her the phrase “first world problems.” She began to anwser but it quickly became a story of why she answered the way she did. So here is her story.
I will change the ladies name in this article, as I did not ask for her to use it. For all intensive purposes we will call her Yui, one of the most popular female names in Japan today. I did however ask if I could share her story, which she was more than happy to agree to.
Her Story
Yui was born into a family of four in 1937, two years before the war broke out. Being the youngest of the two children, having an older brother, she admitted to being spoiled at times. She said, being the little girl in the family, she didn’t go hungry, which not everyone can say. She does not recall much during the first several years and only can remember what Japan was like during the war.
Her family was from Saga prefecture, which is in the southern island of Kyushu. A small prefecture in terms of population, having the 42nd largest population out of the 47 that make up Japan. It is known for having a long history and for its production of ceramics. Saga prefecture is in between the Nagasaki prefecture and the Fukuoka prefecture. This placed it close to the two largest military bases in Japan during World War Two. Yui was used to the sight of the military, her father being a soldier himself. She never feared the notion of war, and admitted she was but a child who bought into the propaganda of the war.
“I saw the soldiers as heroes, and thought they were simply making the world a better place. Obviously now I know a lot more, but then, I never questioned it.”
Things drastically changed in 1945, following the fall of Berlin in April. The focus of the war was then drastically shifted to the Pacific theater and Japan was the new main target of the American war machine. Yui’s family decided they needed to evacuate north, away from the conflict that was approaching from the south. They would embark by carriage, which was actually pulled by an ox, making for an incredibly long trip. The trip lasted over three weeks, but Yui admitted she could be wrong. All she knew was, that it was incredibly boring.
Yui’s family would be broken up, to not put too much of a burden on their extended family. At this time food was rather scarce for the general public, as all the resources were used to fund the ongoing war. Yui’s brother would be sent to the Chiba prefecture east of Tokyo to stay with her grandparents. Yui, would take refuge with her aunt and uncle in the Tokyo prefecture.
Her mother, originally stayed with Yui for a few weeks, but would end up leaving in a dramatic fashion. Yui recalls the day when her mother ran away.
“It was a peaceful morning, I remember feeling so calm. Maybe that’s why it caught me by surprise.”
Eating breakfast with her goofy uncle, exchanging ugly faces and laughs, it was interrupted when Yui’s aunt barged into the room looking flustered. She told Yui that her mom had ran away. Yui said she was confused what she meant by “ran away”, it literally wasn't registering in her brain. Her reaction was to run out of the house to look for her mother. She ran around the town screaming out her name, but with no luck. She returned to her aunts in tears. Her first reaction was anger but that slowly faded to loneliness.
The feeling of being alone and scared, came mainly during the nights. Her aunt and uncle owned many silk worms to harvest from to produce textiles. Silk worms were everywhere including the ceiling, which made little Yui paranoid. She recalled one night getting a nice little surprise on her feet. The fear of the worms didn’t last long however, as after a month or so they started to grown on her. She remembers the first time she looked at them and didn’t think they were gross, but rather cute.
There were three silk worms crawling up the side of this pot plant her aunt had. She recalls them looking like they were racing. She stared at them for minutes to see the outcome. One had almost reached half way up the plant in no time, the second seemed to get lost on the way and the third took two little steps and quit.
“It reminded me of myself racing my brother and mother when we would play. I would race ahead out in front of everyone, my brother always seemingly distracted by animals or other kids, and my mom just standing there watching us.”
It would be over a year until her family was finally reconnected. Yui said during that time it helped her grown more independent, despite it being a difficult time. It turns out her mother raced back down to their hometown to make sure her father was safe. He fortunately wasn’t in Nagasaki where he was stationed regularly when the nuclear bomb “Fat Man” was detonated on August 9th 1945. He was on a ship off the southern coast of Japan.
Her family was finally fully reunited in March of 1946 following the war. Yui would head back to her home prefecture of Saga, with her brother. Despite her father being unharmed from the nuclear bombings, some of his friends were not. This is when Yui got to see the effects of nuclear fallout. Yui would tag along with her father to visit his friend one day. When they arrived at his house, they were greeted by a warm lady in her mid 30’s. Yui could tell she was sad however and upon entering she realized why.
The effects of nuclear radiation vary quite a bit. Large radiation causes the end of the reproduction cycle of cells. Common symptoms include hair loss, severe nerve damage, seizures, heart failure and countless other difficulties. When entering the house, her father greeted a rather sickly looking figure. It was his friend who was exposed to radiation and was deteriorating fast. The man and his wife offered both Yui and her father food. When it was brought out it was not to Yui’s liking. Without thinking she voiced her complaint that she didn’t want to eat it. Her dad shot her a look and started to yell at her, but was interrupted by the sick man.
He said, with a firm look on his face, “Tadashi, don’t get mad at the girl. It’s better for her to complain about simple things in life. Be glad she doesn’t have to worry about what I have too. We’ll get her something else to eat.”
That moment really impacted Yui from then on. On one hand she knew she shouldn’t have complained about the food, especially after the look she got from her father. However, the man’s ability to feel for her and acknowledge her position, despite his obvious pain was uncanny. No matter how insignificant her complaint was compared to this man’s, he acknowledged it. From that point forward she approached things differently.
That philosophy really carried over into her parenting. Now a grandparent to two young half Japanese, half American boys, she continues to hold on to this. The generational gap is huge and she can’t understand their frustration over something like social media. She doesn’t dismiss them or yell at them, but simply laughs and is happy when they complain over little things. She knows it ultimately means there isn’t anything substantial in their lives that is a real problem to complain about. She wants to genuinely listens to their complaints, no matter how small, instead of brushing them off. This doesn’t mean she caters to their every whim but feels that acknowledgement is better than anger or dismissal.
Yui told me she is happier to see each generation changing, with the quality of life for the most part increasing. Why would she care if they are complaining more.
Obviously there are those out there that complain for the sake of complaining, which is undoubtedly annoying. To me that’s just a sad way of living life. Yui’s story however made me see things a little differently. These arguments about who complains more about these “first world problems”, shouldn’t be relevant if we really think about it. If my co-workers or friends are complaining about trivial things, it is ultimately a good sign. Maybe not for their character, personality or friendships, but as a sign for their general well being. If you have friends who seemingly are these complainers, maybe you should be happy for them, as they probably don’t have real issues to complain about.
You can reach me at shotarohmoore@hotmail.com
