Where’s the Love?

Not that I needed any hard evidence, but Valentine’s Day at Shin Gakko confirmed what I already suspected: I’m less popular with junior high school girls than Bush is with Europeans…Americans…or anyone for that matter. Speculation into my plummeting popularity will be revealed in blogs to come. Meanwhile, Valentine’s Day was a reversal of fortunes from last year when I was showered with cookies and chocolates. This year I was nearly shut out.

Only at the eleventh hour (3:55 p.m.) did adorable Ayana with her jack-o-lantern grin (seen on the right in her school uniform) offer me sweets, and even this transaction had to be done on the down low and after school. Gifts of affection to the opposite sex are an embarrassment for 13-year-olds, and with me as the recipient, Ayana risked her own popularity for this overture.

Expectations weren’t high that morning after checking my class schedule. Afternoon lessons were cancelled, and one of my three morning classes was with all boys, busy collecting chocolates of their own. I immediately ruled out munificence from the sour seventh graders (Ayana is in the other section). That left first period with more mature eleventh graders as my best chance, but only two girls delivered, and they were from the afternoon section that got cancelled.

Were it not for the generosity of a gym teacher, I would have left school with an empty heart while some colleagues needed shopping bags to haul home their loot. Truth be told, I don’t care about chocolate – it makes my skin break out. Most of the sweets I received were redistributed to other classes as prizes to reward student effort on the cheap.

Despite the disappointment, not all was lost that day, as I carried out a special lesson plan hatched purely for my own amusement. In addition to the vocabulary-building word puzzles, for Valentine’s Day I was going to make them sing. Or at least follow along. I printed out the lyrics to the most embarrassingly romantic song I could play for a class of 39 high school boys, many of whom were jocks.

Ballplayers with crew cuts dutifully recited “I Will Always Love You” at my command. After each stanza the Japanese English teacher translated. Once they were well versed, I hit play on the CD player and grinned. Words are one thing, but sound is another.

A few eyebrows arched in muted disbelief as Whitney Houston filled the room with high notes and heaving sighs. English grammar may be a hard slog for these guys, but eternal affection is an international emotion, right?

While a classroom of American boys would have revolted at music from “The Bodyguard,” their Japanese counterparts were totally mellowed out. That is, until my impassioned lip-syncing and heart pounding coincided with Whitney’s hitting those impossibly high notes at the end, which got them in an understandable uproar. Without any girls to wink at, I tilted my head and outstretched arms at the ceiling while I mouthed the song’s title for the fifth iteration.

“Sensei, sensei,” one begged me to stop. But that was part of the fun. In my class, the “E” in English stands for entertainment, otherwise they don’t stay awake.

After no one fessed up to having a valentine, I gave the boys a homework assignment. One good thing about teaching is that it gives me a platform to preach – quite literally, as each classroom has a raised step behind the teacher’s desk designed for my shorter Japanese colleagues.

“OK everyone. Today go home and tell your mom that ‘I will always love you.’ Class dismissed.”

A teacher should practice what he preaches, so Mom, if you’re reading this, Happy Valentine’s Day and I will always love you.