Stories About Hiromi: High School and Beyond

One of my sons has asked me several times to write down what I know of Hiromi's life in Japan.  I decided that one of the most likely ways I would accomplish this is to write it in pieces here.  My idea is to use the "Stories About Hiromi" title for all of them, with some clarifying subtitle.  I would hope to collect them all eventually in an easy-to-read format.

Our youngest son Grant did write Hiromi's story for a high school composition class community writing project, and I'm not sure that I can add a lot to that--only a few details perhaps.  Often I learn these details at unexpected moments in the course of living life with Hiromi, when something jogs a memory that he shares with me.

Such an event occurred within the past few days when Hiromi got word by email of a reunion planned for his high school (Nishitagawa) graduating class, an event that occurred 50 years ago.  The organizer of the reunion  Hirano*, posted word that a classmate, Masamoto, who now lives in Indiana plans to attend, along with his wife Harumi Masamoto who was also a classmate.  I could tell Hiromi was wistful about this when he got the email, and I asked if he wants to attend too.  He didn't answer directly, but began right away to think about how he might be able to manage to do so.

On the day after the class reunion, a whole-school reunion is planned to celebrate the 100th year of the school's existence.  This is a special bonus, for reasons which I will explain later.  His slightly atypical route through high school is part of the picture.

I realized that at the ages of about 69-71, many of his classmates are still alive and able to enjoy reconnecting, but this will not likely be the case for many more years. Furthermore, travel is still relatively easy for Hiromi now, but will not be so indefinitely.

Hiromi has never attended a class reunion since he left Japan in 1971, forty-five years ago.  He has returned to Japan only twice, the last time in 2001, 15 years ago.  At that time, Joel accompanied him.  He was 18.

Shane and Dorcas visited in Japan about six years ago, and were able to see Hiromi's mother and other relatives.  Hiromi's mother has died since then--at the age of 96, in 2011, around July 4.  Only Grant has never visited Japan.  I wish very  much that he could accompany Hiromi on this trip.

The class reunion Hiromi will attend is for a class of about 50 students.  Hiromi explained to me how it is that, even though the entire senior class consisted of 350 students, he identifies only about 50 as being in his class.  What I learned from him is that the big group was divided each year into seven smaller groups of 50 each.  Those 50 had identical schedules throughout high school except for a few electives.  They stayed almost all day in the same classroom (their homeroom), and the teachers rotated in and out of the room, staying only long enough to teach the subject they were responsible for.  Chemistry class was an exception and always took place in the school lab.

The seven smaller student groups were formed on the basis of similar entrance test scores.  Each year there were small shifts as students near the cut-off  lines either advanced slightly above it or dropped slightly below it.  Depending on the previous year's placement, a student might either fall back to the level below or advance to the level above.  That's why Hiromi's graduating class was not precisely the same as the class he was with throughout all of high school.

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Hiromi spent all his high school years in group seven, the highest achieving group.  This group was considered the most likely to gain the coveted entrance to the national universities which were the least expensive and had the most competitive entrance requirements.

"But you never went to a public university.  Why was that?" I asked Hiromi.

Hiromi had a little trouble answering, but he indicated that he thinks it was because he wasn't  sure what he wanted to do with his life.

Earlier, things had been clear.  At the age of 15, at the end of his last year in junior high school, Hiromi had gone off to attend a military training school.  That privilege was granted him as a result of passing a rigorous written test--as also did 99 other similarly-aged students in the country.  Eventually he hoped to become a pilot for the military.  That dream died when a physical exam revealed a deviated septum, which might have compromised his ability to breathe easily at high altitudes.  He voluntarily left the military school and returned home.

Regrettably, when he got home, he could not simply join the same class he had left earlier.  Instead he had to join a class two years younger, since he had not been present at his home high school for two years, and the credits he earned couldn't be transferred.  The class he was with for three years is the class that is having their 50th year reunion.  If Hiromi could not also attend the 100-year celebration, he would be unlikely to see any of the students in his class through grade nine.  This second reunion is a big bonus for visiting Japan now.

After high school Hiromi's wish to go to Bhuddist "monk school" was vetoed by his father and brother, who pointed out that he could never earn a living that way.  Then he turned his attention toward technical school, since that seemed to hold promise of being able to earn a decent living.  He hoped that his father might eventually be able to help him enough financially to open up an electronics store.

That dream died too when his father died at the age of 53, shortly after Hiromi had finished school and began working in an electronics store.

One more decisive re-direction awaited.  This one came through observing the experience of Hiromi's co-worker for Miyaharadenki, an electrical contractor.  He was a well-liked young man who had a dream of immigrating to either Canada or Brazil.  In preparation, he worked very hard to learn English and Spanish, but the process was not easy for him, and he made slow progress.  Likely he didn't consider the US as a destination since there was almost no chance that he could get permission to immigrate.

The most highly preferred category for immigration to the US was people who had some knowledge or skill that was in high demand in the US job market.  The next most highly preferred were those who already had family members living in the US.  Hiromi fell in the second category since his sister had married an American soldier stationed in Japan in 1954.  Hiromi realized that he had a ready-made highly coveted advantage on several fronts.  Not only had he gone farther than most in learning English, he was very likely to gain permission to immigrate because he was in a preferred category.

In addition, Hiromi saw that if he stayed in Japan he would likely either be consigned to stay in the same company "forever" or risk having to start from the bottom in a different job.  Furthermore, the best way to advance within a company was to do something Hiromi is highly allergic to--acting obsequious in order to curry favor.  "Brown-nosing" is the crude term he used.  "Not my style at all," he said of this necessity in Japanese society.

Immigrating to the US began to look like a better option than ever, and Hiromi set about making preparations to do so.

 *Most adults are called only by their last names.