It isn’t always that simple

Coffee

“Thanks for meeting me at such short notice!” Becky said, placing her cup on the table and sinking heavily into her seat

“No problem. I was in town anyway.” Miku eyed her friend curiously as she took a sip of her own coffee. Something big was obviously playing on her mind.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“It’s just this lesson I taught yesterday,” Becky said with a sigh. She absentmindedly brushed her hair out of her eyes and pinned it behind her ear.

“What happened?” Miku asked her. They hadn’t met up in several weeks. Life had been busy lately.

“It’s a preschool class. So the parents were there.”

Miku was already shaking her head in disapproval. Becky knew she preferred not to have parents in classes. It wasn’t completely erroneous advice, but Becky had found in her personal experience that a lot of the little kids did better with their mums there. Japanese children were notoriously shy. Whether that was a natural phenomenon or something culturally trained into them from the day they were born, Becky wasn’t entirely certain, but that was outside her area of expertise. She just wanted to teach as effectively as she could and crying kids refusing to cooperate was not conducive to that.

Masa

“It’s actually the kid of the woman you introduced to me,” she continued, a little nervously. She wasn’t entirely sure how Miku would react to hearing this. She knew she had to say something though.

“Go on,” Miku encouraged her.

“So, we were practicing their self-introductions for the English Performance Day at the end of the month. Masa was really nervous and well, his mother got super pushy with him.”

“Sounds about right,” Miku observed flatly. “She’s a bit of a kyoiku mama.”

Becky nodded. She had met a fair few of these tiger mums during her years teaching. They would often push their kids into English education at a very young age, hoping to give them an early advantage.

“But this time, she hit him,” she continued. “In class. In front of everyone.”

“What like hard?” Miku was surprised she had gone that far. It showed a massive slip of self-control in her view.

“Yeah, she walloped him across the head, when he didn’t answer.” Becky replied.

“Was he okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. I was stunned. The only thing I could think to do, was to remind them there’s no pressure ever to answer.”

“She’s really stressed out.” Miku said.

“That may be so, but that’s no reason to smack her kid like that. Besides, if she is doing that in front of others, I dread to think what she does at home when no one is watching!”

“True,” Miku agreed.

“I didn’t see it at the time, but he’s definitely scared of her reactions. He always checks with her before he says anything. I thought he was just shy. Now I think he’s scared of saying the wrong thing.”

Discipline gone wrong?

“Actually,” Miku said slowly. “She told me she kicks and hits him sometimes. She says he’s really hard to deal with and she just loses it.”

“Seriously? But that’s awful! Poor Masa!”

“Disciplining children is hard.”

“This sounds like more than discipline. She kicks and hits him? It sounds abusive to me.”

“She has a lot on her plate.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her husband works all hours and she’s on her own with Masa most of the time. And, she just recently found out he’s having an affair.”

“Oh gosh. That’s terrible.”

“She’s a full-time mum. Her husband won’t let her go back to work. She’s miserable and bored and she takes it out on Masa. She doesn’t really mean to. She’s a good person really and I know she loves him. Honestly, I think she’s depressed.”

Dilemma

“I don’t know what to do, Miku.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, as a teacher, I feel like I ought to report this or something.”

“Well, you could, but are you sure it would be in Masa’s best interest?”

“Not being hit and kicked surely would be in anyone’s best interest?” Becky said sardonically.

“Of course, but if you report it, what do you expect to really happen?”

“I don’t know.”

Becky took another sip of her coffee, as she considered the question. She did feel for Masa’s mum. Raising a child so often fell solely to the mother. Many Japanese husbands prioritized work and did nothing whatsoever to help at home or raise the kids. It was no doubt incredibly hard.

“Maybe they could help?” she suggested hopefully.

“If you report it?” Miku asked.

“Well yeah. Maybe she could get some support, or some counselling, or join a parenting group? I don’t know.”

Reality

“Or maybe the extra stress would make it worse? She’d probably have him quit English too,” Miku suggested.

“How would she know it was me?”

“I guarantee you she’d find out where the report came from.”

“Right.” Becky sighed. She remembered the Mia Kurihara case that had been in the news. The worst thing about it was that the girl had reported the abuse to her teachers and for a time she had been removed from the home. However, officials had told the father what his daughter had said and of course he had insisted it was all lies. The child had been returned to the home a few weeks later. The abuse had escalated and subsequently resulted in her death. In Becky’s view it was unforgivable that she had reached out for help and there hadn’t been proper procedures and follow-up in place to keep her safe. It wasn’t the only case that had been in the news either. What if they same thing happened to Masa? She could never forgive herself.

Where’s the line?

“Separating a child from family is always traumatic,” Miku said. “It would turn his whole world upside down. And would he really be better off in a children’s home or in foster care? There’s just no happy solution to something like this. Whatever you do, the kid is going to suffer. It’s a question of working out which is the least damaging.”

Where’s the line?” Becky asked. “When does it cross over from heavy discipline to actual abuse?”

“I don’t know. I guess if his life is in danger or he’s getting badly injured?”

“How bad is it Miku?” she asked. “Do you think he’s in serious danger from her?”

“I don’t think so. I mean I really hope not. I’ve never seen any bruises.”

“Neither have I,” Becky said somberly. Apart from that one occasion yesterday, the only real sign of anything untoward was his nervousness around his mother. He was obviously desperate not to trigger her disapproval.

Frustration

“Maybe reporting it might not be the best thing to do, at this point,” Becky conceded. It was so confusing. She reminded herself that she was in a foreign country with a completely different culture and legal system to hers back home. Besides, she taught this kid once a week, for an hour. Maybe she was stepping way too far outside the boundaries of her role? Surely this was something that her teachers at school should be picking up on. She briefly wondered if calling his school and giving his homeroom teacher a head’s up would be an option.

“I just wish there was something I could do to help,” she said wistfully.

“But you can, ” Miku said thoughtfully. “You can offer him a safe place, once a week during your English class. You can give him a kind, patient and sympathetic adult ear and show him that not all adults are like his mum.”

“I guess,” Becky said. She hadn’t thought of it like that. It was definitely something she could do for the boy. Was it really enough though?

Prudence

“You know what?” she said decidedly. “I am going to tell the parents they can’t attend the classes with the kids anymore. It’s only a few months until their kids enter elementary school. I’ll tell them it’s time for them to start to stand on their own two feet, so to speak.”

“Good idea,” Miku agreed. “That way he gets to spend an hour away from his mother. Maybe the break will do them both good?”

“And I’ll keep an eye on him. The second I see any bruises or any indication that the abuse has escalated, then I’ll report it.”

“I think that might be best,” Miku agreed.

Becky leaned back against her chair. She just couldn’t shift the sense of unease. To be honest, it seemed inadequate, whatever she did or didn’t do.

crop of women sitting at table with cups of coffee

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