Sunday, August 30, 2009

4. The Secret of the "Perfect Village"

Children are vulnerable. They come to this world in a completely helpless state, where they have to rely on capable adults to provide food, and a place to be safe and warm. 

Once they become self-aware, they need mental support, in addition to the essentials for staying alive.  They depend on adults around them for their emotional comfort, sense of security, and guidance in moral. 

I occasionally hear someone say, probably out of desperation, that children don’t need parents to grow-up.  True, children may not need uncaring abusive parents to grow.  If adults are not available to care for them, some children are capable of survival by learning to be street smart.  But we all know that growing up without love and support of caretaker is hardly a foundation to become a mentally healthy and happy adult.  When children are not provided a safe place to be, with someone who loves and accepts them for who they are, they can become susceptible to a life-long depression.  Because a child without security, love or acceptance by someone, would not have a positive image of himself or the world he lives in.  He will not be able to hope for a brighter future for himself, because he is not capable of imagining one.

Unfortunately, the strong parental support children need to grow up to be truly happy functional adults, are not always available in our world, and my little hometown is no exception. 

I was born in a small city of 50 thousand people, situated near a beautiful coastline of a small peninsula on the Pacific side, in central Japan.  It seemed like strong support of adults for their children would be available in a section of the city I grew up in, an innocent sleepy community.  Why wouldn’t there be?  Grown-ups of the town seemed to say nice things to one another.  They cared for the elderly.  Each family line was carried on to by the younger generation.  People stayed within the boundary of how they should conduct.  In doing all those things, no one complained outwardly.  Everyone even did a lot of volunteer work for the community.  Such “ideal community” would surely be an environment where people can keep their children healthy, mentally and physically, wouldn’t it? 

What I discovered after a year of counseling was in contrary to the superficial image of what this community provided.  I learned that I had never really felt protected or accepted as a child.  The child inside me, who’d been locked up for a long time until recently, still weeps today, because she couldn’t comprehend what was going on with adults around her.  When she felt hurt and sad, she couldn’t express it to anyone.  She couldn’t trust adults who were supposed to be showing her how to live.  When I made this realization, I looked into more of what had happened in my childhood. 

No continuous physical abuse was inflicted on me to my recollection.  So I ruled it out as a main factor. -

This is a slight derailment from what I would like to focus in this article, but it may give a clearer picture of social mentality that was present back in those days. There was less caution against physical punishment then. There were a few unrelated incidents I experienced that may have contributed in my repellence against my hometown. 

One time when I lied to my mother about skipping a piano lesson during my grade school years, she slapped me across my face.  (Looking back, It’s interesting how she told me never to lie again, but didn’t encourage me to tell her why I didn’t go to the lesson or suggest that I quit if I don’t want to play piano.) What became more prominent in my recollection of my past is the abuse that took place in schools.  Teachers were notorious back then for choosing physical punishments on students, whatever offence students committed.  The offence usually was missed homework or violating a dress code covering things like length of a skirt or style of your hair.  I recall being pinched and struck for a missed homework when I was in third grade, and being struck with a hardcover book when I missed an after-school club meeting in middle school.  I remember the feeling of humiliation.  Personally, these incidents lead me to believe that it’s not the physical hurt that lingers and affect a person’s life.  It’s the mental hurt that is more powerful and damaging.  

Physical punishments are now considered inappropriate in Japan today as is in many societies.  Yet I know for a fact that a portion of adult population in Japan still believes in physical punishment as an effective and necessary tool to mold children.  

- So what was so wrong that I couldn’t trust adults? 

To summarize, it was the way adults, including my parents, who are supposed to be looked up upon by me as a child, didn’t make efforts to do the right thing.  They didn’t seem to see any point in correcting the wrongs and making them right.  This apparent disregard to moral and the indifference in adults, left me confused, untrusting, and feeling unprotected.

Another reason why I, as a child, felt exposed could have been because I thought I had to be a mental protector to my mother and my younger sister.  I know now there are limits to what a small child can do, and it’s not possible for a child to care for an adult mentally. But I didn’t know that at the time.

I mentioned in my previous article, that I was ordered by my mother never to discuss anything that has to do with family publically.  When she said family, she meant my father’s entire family, which included not only his wife and children, but also all his relatives who bore the family name.    Why?  There were two reasons for this.  One is because my father’s family was very well known in the community and highly regarded, at least superficially anyway.  So no member of this great family could afford to tarnish the family’s prestige by revealing that we are also imperfect humans, just like anyone else.  My mother was especially paranoid about this, which explains the second reason, the effect of Village Conscious.  She was just another victim of social polarization.

My mother was from another part of the country, and was the subject of rejection and subtle group abuse by people in the neighborhood as well as my father's family.  She tried her best to protect her image and prevent any severe harm to come to her or her children.  She attempted this by trying her darnedest to appear to be perfect and fit into the community.  And one of her strategies was to keep everything that might be construed with the slightest negative connotation, secret. Hence, her strict order to a toddler, who couldn’t selectively keep things secret, to “Keep her mouth shut”.  She also unloaded her frustration and pain on me, a very young child.  Sharing with me the sordid details of her relationship with my father, as well as her struggles relating to my father’s family and those who made up this community we lived in.  I suspect my mother didn't have anyone to confide in.  This caused many ill effects on my life, that I will be discussing it in another article.  

It didn’t help that in this environment my late father was an absent one who was emotionally unavailable to everyone including my mother, my sister and I.  No, I’m sure he didn’t intend to abandon us.  He was actually regarded as one of the more respectable members in the community.  After all he was his father’s son, graduated from one of the most prestigious universities in Tokyo, and made something of himself in the society’s view.  He just was never there, because he was at work all over Japan as a consultant most of his life.  

He was a workaholic who put everything he had into becoming a success in the company he worked for.  His hard work provided for his family well financially.  I remember my mother repeatedly reassured my sister and me, that our father loved us.  She said that’s why he worked so hard and we didn’t see him very much. 

I empathized with his struggle and respected him, especially when I turned old enough to understand the harshness of the working environment in Japan.

Eventually though, I believe this “working hard for the family” and “brutal working environment of Japan” became an excuse for him to stay away from things that made him uncomfortable about his personal life.  I am certain that he was also plagued by his environment where he grew up, regardless whether he was conscious of it or not.  I fail to see now why he had to submerge himself into the world of work the way he did.  I wonder if he didn’t have a severe emotional impairment he needed to run away from everyday.  There were suggestions that his personal life was very dysfunctional.  One of the things I noticed was that he appeared not to have any close friends, but was well received by people who didn‘t really know him.  I also noticed that the company he had dedicated his life to, showed very little sympathy when he passed away of cancer.  I often felt that he didn’t even know his own parents and siblings.  More sadly, I, his own first born, never really knew who he really was.

Where I stand now, I feel my personal growth was stunted because of the way my parents related to me in an environment that seemed very puzzling to me for many reasons.  My parents probably were not able to see what was going on with me.   They couldn’t have seen what was going on with me, because they were too busy coping with everyday life themselves.  They had no time to address their own issues. And I feel for them for their own struggles.

On the other hand, through my childhood experiences, I seemed to have developed a persona of a protector or a warrior.  There was a constant urge in me to try to protect someone who may have been misunderstood or mistreated.  I often assisted my classmates who were ridiculed just because they had a disability or difference.  I fended for new students who moved into our community and were being ostracized.  I remember taking pride in doing those things, although I was labeled odd.  It’d lead me to believe I was someone special because I had the natural urge to do what seemed to be good deeds.  So there were some positive that came out of my upbringing.   

Recently my younger sister informed me that she thought of herself as “Big Sis’s Girl”, as in “Daddy’s Girl” or “Mommy’s Boy”.  It was a relief for me to hear this in a way.  I realized now that I did try to protect my sister.  Now that I’m older, I can’t help feeling a twinge of anger... anger toward the way my parents chose to live, in a place where my sister needed to be protected by the older sibling, just another child herself… I sill love my parents, for I understand that they did the best they could.  Still I wonder today, if my parents were ever concerned about the environment we were in.  If they were, I wonder if they tried to address it openly.  I eventually left my sister there, and the regret of doing so would haunt me for years. 

As one of my mentors pointed out to me recently, I can’t ignore the possibility that my reaction to how things were in my hometown could have had something to do with my own mental “wiring” or make up.  I’ve been told more than once that I am more sensitive than others, so it makes sense that my experiences may have been magnified through my own processing.  I was probably prone to more hurt because of it.  Ironically, I believe my sensitivity aided me to notice things around me, perhaps with more depth.  

I knew there was something very unhealthy there where I grew up.  More than likely it still is.

10 comments:

  1. Hi there!

    Nobody has perfect childhood. Every family has secret or two. What we are today is the product of our past, but I believe strongly that no good will come out of it by dwelling.

    Growing up, I had a mentally abusive mother and a hen pecked, unhappy father.... Now, I can hate them forever for messing up my childhood or I learn, as painful as it is, to not to repeat what was done to me and how I was humiliated, never good enough, etc....

    Like you, some of my valuable lesson came from my husband. When something happens, try to learn from it.... and do something different.
    As we all know, sign of insanity is doing same thing over and over again and expecting different result.

    I admire your effort to look back on your passage, I think it's a critical part of healing. Perhaps in the end, let go, as you let go of balloon in the air and say good bye.

    But in a mean time, do take good care of your heart, and family.... you are their source of sunshine in their lives.

    One of my fingers was broken long ago by my mother, who slammed piano lid on my hands...
    My oldest son, who took piano lessons close to 20 years ago, one day looked at me and said, "Mommy, I don't enjoy playing piano but it makes you happy, so I will do it."
    I run to the bathroom and cried. Needless to say, I had him quit the same day....


    Love always, Keiko from Boston.

    (I hope I did not spoke too openly. I am cheering for you from the bottom of my heart. )

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hello Keiko-san,

    Welcome, and no worries. I appreciate your warm support and care. I'm also grateful that you shared a very vulnerable part of your life with me. One of my piano teachers was abusive to me as well, although my fingers were never broken. You seem to be much ahead of me in understanding and accepting what happened in your life. Yet I do feel for what you must have gone through in your environment as you were growing up. Reality may be that life is full of unnecessary hurt and imperfections for everyone. But I still am dreaming of making what's wrong right. LOL.

    The first 2 lines of your comment helped me realize that my subject matter and the content of my writing may give people unintended impressions about why I'm writing about my life.

    My intention is not to blame or dwell. That's not what I want to advocate here. My intentions are, by offering my point of view, encourage people who are ready to seek their own answers but don't know that they are, to start the process. I would like those who are ready to face wrongs around them, to see if they can help themselves.

    If I can help stop a cycle of pain for one person, I'd be elated.

    I wanted to make sure people knew of those intentions so I made a note to clarify on the top left column. And I owe it to you for bringing it to my attention.

    Again, thank you and good to meet you. I'll look forward to get to know you, and learning from you more in the future.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I must admit reading your blog requires lots of deep breathes and tissues. It really makes me wonder what my mother's childhood was must have been like. I love your candid descriptions which provide me with some possible clues as to why my mom treated us the way she did. Being Amerasian and living in the United States my entire life, I really only have my mom's version of how things were -- pure fantasy.
    As I continued to read your entry, I kept saying to myself, why would anyone want to do this to themself? All that reliving of pain, why go there again when it hurt so much the first go around? But when I read the part when you felt you were passing the pain down to your children, it all made sense then.
    I think I get it now but will cower around the corner and hand you a tissue when I am able. I am so glad I have found you!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Dear Jenny,

    Thank you for your heart felt comment. What your parents had experienced where they came from, may have been different from what I described here. But I am glad if what I wrote rang a bell for you and shed some light into where your parents may have been. That's exactly what I aim to do here.

    I too, went through some boxes of tissue to get through writing these articles so far. It would be great to have you come and join me when you can. Maybe we can help each other, as well as others, to see deeper into the cause and effect of our struggles.

    Thank you for reaching out. Welcome aboard. :)

    ReplyDelete
  5. Bravo! And the excellent analytical work continues!

    Not only is your story interesting and well presented, it may also serve as a moving and compelling case-study! While individuals may experience similar life circumstances, it is likely that they (the circumstances) may yield profoundly different or unexpected results, as expressed in your most recent writings!

    Once again, well done, Yuko! Thank you and I look forward to your future articles! Cheers, friend!

    Ernie/San Antonio, Texas

    ReplyDelete
  6. Hi Yuko,

    What makes your writing so captivating is the courage to put yourself out there. It tugs at the heartstrings because I can relate to some of your experiences.

    It made me laugh too about how you would often stand up for the child that was picked on at school! I was that way too and looked upon as odd.

    It was really because we had the inner strength and compassion to save another from pain. Whenever I saw that I felt they should pick on someone their size -- me! It's odd because I think the reason why we came to someone else's rescue is because at some point, we were in that position ourselves. The only difference was that no one helped us; no one came to our rescue.

    My own self-analysis but I think that helped us to become better people.

    We become better individuals when we can take the first step and analyze everything in our lives -- see the weaknesses in our cultural beliefs, upbringing, relationships, and ultimately ourselves. Only when we see everything objectively without denial & ego, then can we change.

    Yuko, my heart goes out to you and know that so many understand and relate to the depth of your personal experience.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Yuko-san,

    I must admit that it was painful to read your story. At the same time, as a Parents Educator, I appreciate your openess and honesty, and courage to go back there and try to examine with open eyes what happened to you. As a part of my instructor training, I took this course called "Understanding Yourself and Others". It was a very powerful course where participants each took turn to tell their own story. I was surprised to see how many people there were hurting because of what their parnets did or did not do. It was a valuable experience for me - I remember that the course instructor looked at me and said that when I eventually start teaching the parenting course, I should keep their stories in mind, because they are the evidence of how powerful and influential parents could be in people's lives. The more I know about your sotry, the stronger my desire to teach become - not to be judgemental of how people parent, but if there are parents who ever wonder what to do with their kids, I feel like I have something to offer.

    Keep writing and keep sharing your stories with us.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Ernie,

    You have such a wonderful way to lift me up and encourage me in continuing with my project.

    Yes, I am in fact in hopes of serving our international community by offering a case study, my own life. My life may be ordinary, but because it's ordinary I may be able to serve more people.

    I feel complimented that you think it's interesting, and I thank you so very much for your cheer!!!

    Yuko

    ReplyDelete
  9. Reiko,

    You and I need to get together sometime and have a drink. LOL I agree that we wanted to provide care that we didn't receive, whenever we saw the need. Let me guess. Your archetype is a warrior?

    Thanks for continuous support, Reiko.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Etsuko-san,

    Thanks again for reading such a long article. I sometimes have a hard time re-reading myself. I probably should have cut it in half. LOL
    I'm glad the look into my life may provide something you can use in your profession.

    ReplyDelete

Thank you for reading my article. Please feel free to join in and share your thoughts.