Last week, I learned of the decision at my place of work to change
the status of foreign full-time teachers from contract work (任期雇用) to
lifetime employment (終身雇用). Currently, all full-time foreign teachers
(and, until recently, I was the only one) are given contract positions,
requiring renewal every three years, while all Japanese full-time
teachers are given life-time employment upon being hired. I had no idea
why this two-tiered system exists, nor did anyone else seem to
understand it, much less care about it. It has always felt to me like
a vestige from the war years.
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| A foreigner seated with the rest of the faculty |
I
was told by two different colleagues that no one at the school was
responsible for the policy and that if I wanted to question it, I would
have to face off against politicians. My colleagues seemed to want to
discourage me.
Visions
of myself making halting speeches in some legislative body
occasionally did cross my mind. However ridiculous those visions may
have been, what possible justification could anyone make for such an
unjust policy? I wanted to ask, in particular, how does it benefit the
prefecture to introduce such instability into the lives of certain
employees?
I also wondered with respect to my own case:
what if I wished to remain in Japan? Should I rent an apartment for
only three years at a time? Should I consider home ownership as being
too risky? Plan to get a new girlfriend or wife every three years, just
in case my contract is not renewed? Lease a car for three years at a
time rather than purchase one? In short, how is a person suppose to
plan a life by three-year increments? And why should anyone have to?
Such
segregationist rules would be blatantly illegal in the United States,
and it's great to see that many public colleges in Japan have decided to
discontinue them. The matter didn't seem to attract any interest from
my fellow employees, but to me, it is a matter of great relief and even
celebration. It will remove a number of unjust, irritating, and
humiliating conditions to my job.
What were those conditions? And what did I learn from the situation? That's what I would like to explain.
Every
three years, in renewing my contract, I have to reapply for my
position, including submitting a report of all my academic activities
for perusal by other members of the Literature Department and,
eventually, all other faculty members, and absent myself from the
general faculty meeting while all full-time teachers discuss my
reapplication. Weeks after this, there is a formal ceremony in the
president's office, attended by the highest administrators and
conducted as if no one had met me before. Second, I have to undergo a
second health examination -- in addition to the annual one that all
employees take. This costs more than the equivalent of 130 US dollars
and once required my receiving two chest X-rays within the same week. I
have gone through this twice and will have to go through it once more
in two and a half years before I can receive lifetime employment.
But these are just irritations. What is worse is the mere fact of being treated like a second-class employee.
When
I decided to come to Japan, I suppose that part of my curiosity was to
know what it is like to live as an extreme racial minority. I could
have remained part of a racial majority in the United States, but I
made this choice and knew I might face unfavorable treatment. But I
think members of a majority often have a kind of "imagination gap" with
respect to minorities. It is not impossible but it is very difficult
for them to imagine what the experience of the minority is like.
Moreover, very few of them ever take an interest in minority issues or
empathize with minorities. They remain protected by the larger group and
its conception of itself as being not only normal but fair and just in
most matters. Similarly, before coming to Japan, I did not fully
imagine what it would feel like to be treated as being a less dignified
employee simply because I am not Japanese.
I asked about
the contract terms of my employment when I interviewed for my job at
the school and was willing to accept it. It was the best offer I had at
the time. However, something happened two-and-a-half years into my
first three-year contract that enlightened me about the unjust nature
of such professional segregation. First, I came to feel that one
higher-up seemed not particularly favorable to the idea of my renewing
my contract. This person actually questioned me whether it was my
intention to renew, as if that had to be clarified verbally. Worse,
another employee, jealous of the fact that that this first employee had
always managed to get me to do extra personal work for her, decided,
months before the new contract was processed, that it could be altered
in such a way that such duties be included as part of my general job
description. No other full-time employee at the school has any such
"additional responsibilities" written into their contract. I had always
done this work -- editing of academic papers -- even though it was not
my duty to do so and simply because I did not know better. But the
second colleague saw my contract renewal as a chance to serve her own
interests and acquire the use of my labor by making it an official
duty. The result of this machination, which was discussed openly in
front of me during a sectional meeting, is that I became aware that i)
changing fellow teachers' contracts is deemed illegal by the
administration (amazing, huh?!) and ii) the work that the first employee
had always insisted was my duty to do for her was in fact not my duty
at all. It should have been considered a personal favor. I also
understood why I was never thanked for doing the work, since doing so
would have acknowledged the favor as being just that--a favor and not a
duty. Gullible me, I had just assumed that arrogance was the reason I
was never thanked!
So, what did I learn from this? I
think I learned something about the discriminatory nature of
segregation. What makes segregation unfair is not that it is
intrinsically discriminatory. It is not necessarily unjust to separate
people into groups. Rather, the act of separation is like an open door
that any person who wishes to discriminate against others may pass
through easily. It can suggest discriminatory behavior and provide a
smokescreen or appearance of legality and fairness to those who engage
in discriminatory behavior. This is obvious when one group is given
worse conditions or worse treatment from the outset, but I think it is
also true when mere separation of groups is established.
Separating
foreigners and non-foreigners in one's hiring conditions is unfair and
needs to be banished in every institution in Japan. There will always
be someone who will try to manipulate the administrative differences
for some personal advantage. The 1954 US Supreme Court decision Brown
v. Board of Education rejected the idea of people being "separate but
equal" on the evidence that, in fact, blacks were always given worse
treatment. That is different than the point I have made here. To my
mind, segregation is discriminatory because it
enables acts of discrimination, whether or not evidence of the discrimination can be found.
None
of my colleagues seemed particularly interested in the topic -- there
was no actual discussion of it -- but, as members of the majority, why
would they be? They are already taken care of, and the whole system
perhaps only looks to them like a minor inconvenience to me. Only a few
persons I know of might have reason to object to my being treated on
equal terms, but those are purely selfish reasons that they cannot
defend publicly. With this decision, their tyrannical behavior towards
me will no longer be tacitly encouraged by the school itself, and they
will have to treat me with the same professional dignity that they show
towards others.
I don't know if I will remain in Japan
till retirement, but it doesn't matter. The point here is one of
fairness, and it is not only about me. It is about other foreigners and
it is about Japan as a society. In short, for the sake of foreigners
working in Japan, and for the sake of Japan itself, it will be a great
day when the system of contract employment for foreigners is abolished
in all public institutions. I was delighted to hear the news and I
applaud my fellow colleagues and for the administrators around Japan who
first put this process of change in motion. Thank you!
Of
course, the national trends are going in the other direction, as
contract positions are increasing in number for both foreigners and
Japanese, but this is a bright moment that I would like to acknowledge.
