Dear Parents: I can't do this without you

The end of March is a hard time for me. I start looking ahead — new curriculum, new goals, new possibilities — while simultaneously not knowing who will still be with me when April comes. There's a particular kind of limbo in that. But this year, the limbo felt different. Because this year, I created it. This year, I made them choose.

I want to be clear about something before I go any further: I love my job. I love these kids. I love the moment when English stops being something they study and starts being something they use. That moment — when you can see things clicking - a child reaches for a word in English without thinking about it — is why I do this. It's why I've been doing this for 28 years. And it's exactly why this year was so hard.

Japanese families have carried this unquestioned assumption for years: English should be left to the professionals. It's common to hear "Don't look at me for help. I can't speak English."  Hands up, stepping back, opting out before they've even tried. And honestly — I get it. They feel under-equipped. They feel like they'll do it wrong. 

But recently, I'm starting to feel as though I'm being put on the hook for more than teaching English. Somewhere along the way, the process has become backwards — the listening, the respecting others, the basic social-emotional readiness that should come before the classroom has become something I'm expected to build inside it.

I saw two choices in front of me. I could keep chasing. Keep picking up the slack. Keep burning out quietly while smiling at the classroom door.

Or I could challenge the assumption — not by demanding, but by showing families that what I was asking for wasn't the mountain they imagined it to be. And build something real with the families who were ready to see that.

And somewhere in the middle of that exhaustion, I drew a line.

Because the truth is — and I mean this — I can't do this without you. Not as a plea. Not as a warning. Just as the most honest thing I know how to say after 28 years of doing this job.

This year, I gave all families a document that detailed their roles and responsibilities as members of my class if they wanted to continue. I couldn't hold space anymore for we hear what you're asking, but that's not going to work for us — and we're still going to come to your class.

You want to stay? Please, read, sign and return it.

Honestly, I expected pushback. I expected to lose more than one student. I didn't.

And I'm relieved  — but not sure if it's for the right reasons.

Relieved because it makes the program look good. Relieved because it's one less difficult conversation with my employer.

However signing a form doesn't necessarily change a mindset. 

I'm glad I said something, though. For a long time, it felt like there was nothing I could do but accept it.

This year, for the first time, I did something. And that in itself feels like a step in the right direction.