The Free and the Guarded

It's been almost two weeks now since I got back from Japan. I was going to talk about the trip a bit more but it's easier just to sit down and ramble about a movie. Kyoto was beautiful, it was great seeing some old students in Kashihara, at the mall.

I deliberately spent all day at the Aeon Mall there, hoping to run into former students, but mostly people were too shy to talk to me and I couldn't be sure I recognised anyone. The students look so different out of their uniforms, which generally seem to be a couple sizes too big for them. Not an error, I think. One function of the uniform is likely to forestall any real semblance of adulthood. It makes it really hard to recognise them when they're in normal street clothes. Plus, many of the students, especially the girls, I'm used to seeing always wearing masks. I remember one year, my fourth year in Japan, I think, I was at that mall and a skinny girl ran up to me, so excited to see me, she hugged me, and looked in my eyes for the spark of recognition. I desperately searched my memory. Finally I realised who she was--she was one of a group of girls who always wore green cardigans to school and I remembered she was interested in art, so I brought that up to show I knew who she was. But I wish I'd recognised her right away during that initial excitement. I wish I'd better shown how much I appreciated seeing her once more. She was much skinnier than I'd have guessed from the big green cardigan she used to wear.

But in my recent visit I talked to two boys from an English club I used to work with and one girl from the Colour Guard at another school was bold enough to walk up and address me. I don't remember if I've talked about that Colour Guard much here but I sure loved those girls. At that school, I regularly went to the art club and to the Colour Guard, the Colour Guard being sort of like cheerleaders, though they're based on a military band group. The girls in the Colour Guard had wooden rifles that they'd throw and spin as part of their routines. There are teachers assigned to the clubs in junior high schools in Japan and the one in charge of Colour Guard at that school happened to be the head of the English department so I initially hung out with them to chat with that teacher. Then they tried to make me an official "kumon", or one of the teachers officially attached to a club, though I insisted on continuing to go to the art club, which I also loved. Both were art forms, as far as I was concerned. The Colour Guard did some pretty impressive routines combining elements of dance and gymnastics. Many of them were aspiring dancers or had training in ballet. It was inspiring seeing them so enthusiastic and passionate about what they were doing. Unfortunately, in a particularly conservative town, me hanging out with clubs with mostly female members was used to discredit me in the rounds of vicious gossip that certain resentful homophobic employees spread about me.

The Colour Guard warm up practice every day was done to the same two songs, Susan Boyle's cover of "Wild Horses" by The Rolling Stones and "Love is an Open Door" from Frozen. From now on, every time I hear those songs I will infallibly think of those students.