The Prison Notebooks

It has been almost ten years since I left Japan for graduate schools and I never really lived in this country since then. This summer I am restarting my life in Japan almost from scratch because I had no working bank account, no Japanese credit card, and no cell phone. My only Japanese ID, a passport, was going to expire as soon as I arrived in the country, too. I had to go through the process of establishing my existence step by step.

At the passport center, they rejected my photo because I was smiling in it. The bank probably knew how to deal with foreigners better but seemed not to know how to deal with a Japanese citizen who does not have ordinary things like set income sources or a cell phone number, but has too many of unusual things like home addresses. At the cell phone store they could not understand why I was not a customer who is switching from another cell phone company. They looked at me as if I had been an alien who had suddenly landed on the earth. At an electronic store, I asked where the section of wireless internet routers, and he laughed at me because I pronounced “router” as “ラウター.” He said, “are you talking about ルーター？” Wait. I am getting a feeling of starting over in a foreign country. I thought I was in the country where I grew up.

Turning on the TV, I find that 40% of the TV commercials are about “skin whitening” cosmetics. Hirosue Ryoko, somehow still one of the most popular actresses, tells you, “White — that’s the pure color you are born in. Please do not contaminate it.” I cannot believe this is broadcast without any political uprising.

People are nice and food is good here. I do not mean to criticize Japan. But it certainly became a lot more mysterious than before.

I defended my prospectus last December and passed my oral exams in March. I forgot what I have been doing since then but time flies really fast, and here I am. Back in Japan. I am starting my real, not “preliminary,” research for my dissertation.

I am starting from the 青年団報アーカイブス in Tsuruga, Fukui. I visited there last summer and I’m looking forward to excavating the boxes more closely this time. I will spend July in Sendai. I am not quite sure what I can find there but Christopher, who has spent a year there doing local history, has suggested a number of things already. Almost all Japanese local histories in English are about Nagano for a good reason. But Sendai seems to have good local historical materials too. We will see.

After that I will move to Tokyo. I have no specific plan yet but I soon have to expand my networks in Korea and Taiwan and visit there as soon as possible. Networking. The sound of it intimidates me. Fortunately I got generous funding this year which allows me to fly between many places.

I spent hours and hours to write an application to get Institutional Review Board approval for my coming dissertation research since the interviews I might (not even “will”) have could fall under “human subjects research.” Last week my application was returned since a lot of information was missing. That means I had to spend another few days rewriting it. Sigh. Seriously, I just want to ask simple questions about what they remember from the Japanese colonial period. The whole IRB thing is designed for medical and psychological experiments and surveys, and it just does not fit historical research.

While I was putting this off, I got an email from God the Oral History Research Office of my university, saying that my research probably falls under Oral History, which is “excluded” from IRB inspection. THANK GOODNESS! I have just talked to the director of this OHRO, and I am liberated from IRB. This is a good lesson for historians. Find out if your university’s IRB has an oral history exemption.

Here’s some thoughts on youth in history from my oral reading notes:

Stories of twentieth-century urban youth.
When compared to the scholarship on the history of childhood, it is striking that most of the writings on the history of youth deal exclusively with the twentieth century (with an important exception of John Gillis). As Hobsbawm calls it “the age of extremes,” youth are depicted as agents of extremist ideologies during the interwar period and of student radicalism in the 50s-70s. If the problem in representation within the history of childhood is class – often it is predominantly about children of middle-class families and raises the question of which class we should study –, it is the focus on “urban youth” that raises the representation issue in the history of youth. Urban youth, indeed, became “problematic” in many industrializing urban societies. Youth appeared too powerful and sometimes subversive. There grew massive under-class factory workers who were young migrants from the countryside. Many scholars pick ‘youth’ as the target of historical inquiry to show this phenomenon of urbanization and expansion of working class. As a result, both in the history and historiography, youth represent quite dynamic and often problematic agents.

Identity rather than Agency
Another point that is quite different from the history of childhood is that the issue of agency is not central to the historians – it is already assumed. Instead, scholars often highlight “youth identity” which developed within peer groups or youth movements. Commacchio points out that the peer group has a homogenizing effect across racial boundaries. The interwar years saw unprecedented attention to the pressures exerted by the peer group. Stanley Hall, the psychologist of the time, also observed that the supposedly inevitable loosening of the parent-child bond was also a hallmark of modern adolescence. The idea of specific “generations” is also important to the history of youth. There are many generations in their stories — the 1914 generation (France, Germany), the Civil War generation (Russia), the 1930s-born generation (Japan). This might be related to our experiences of “time” that changed a lot in the twentieth century.

Histories of Youth Mobilization
I have read histories of the British Boy Scouts and Girl Guides, the Hitler Jugend, the Soviet Komsomol, and French Communist and Catholic mobilization, and Japanese imperial Seinendan. Except for the Japanese Seinendan, the focus of of all these works are urban youth as these movements took place in the urban sphere. Each historiography has its own characteristics. For example, the histories of the Boy Scouts pay a lot of attention to socioeconomic and demographic changes that led to these movements, and it is still contended whether these groups are characterized as “militarist.” On the Hitler Jugend, or German youth groups in general, historians often discuss the war responsibility of these youth – Jaimey Fisher gives an eye-opening thesis that, in the immediate postwar Germany, intellectuals accused youth of deviating German modernity and victimizing the older. Scholars of the Komsomol are often concerned with the gap between the representation and reality under the totalitarian regime, and the Japanese Seinendan often focuses on how the traditional village societies were re-organized by state intervention. Although these scholars rarely give a direct reference to other youth mobilization, it is quite obvious that these youth shared similar experiences around the world, and there was a strong traveling trope of youth as the agents of “conservative modernity” (Proctor).

I just went to a talk by a guest historian about historians’ obligation to engage in politics. The talk was straightforward. The speaker’s point was the following and she just gave a bunch of examples.

Historians should engage in political debates because, if we don’t, others do and misuse histories. Politicians make all sorts of historical analogies, but history is too complex to find patterns in as political scientists try to do.

Sigh. I am not disappointed because her argument was a simple and old one, or because she did not really have an answer to the question of how historians should contribute to the foreign relations of North Korea and Iran. I was disappointed because there was a typical and sad misunderstanding about historians and political scientists again. I encounter this too many times. Both parts think the other is too naive — historians think political scientists reduce the complexity to patterns nonsensically, and political scientists think that historians are bogged down with details that no one else would care.

She also made a typical mistake in thinking that political scientists are the ones who do politics, and historians those who don’t. That is absolutely not the case. Politicians pick their own advisors both in history and political science. And in both fields, there are a variety of opinions in the first place, and It is an illusion that historians would think in one way and political scientists would in another. I remember the major neo-realist IR scholars, who appear more supportive of conducting war usually, were very vocal in criticizing Bush Jr.’s decision to invade Iraq, and tried to stop it. It is absolutely not the case that historians knew the mess was coming and political scientists didn’t.

I am very uncomfortable with the idea that non-historians would “misuse” histories too. Wait. Do historians never misuse histories? Historians are trained in doing histories but they do not have a monopoly over it, or a monopoly over the right use of it.

Come on, historians. Get over poli-sci-phobia. Sometimes, precisely because there are too many historical analogies, we need the skeleton view of the essence of events that good political scientists can provide. If you want to criticize IR scholars, at least give us a bit more interesting and useful message that we can chew on!

I am reading for my oral exams right now, and for my Modern Japan field, I was advised to think about lecture outlines, themes, questions etc, rather than remembering who said what. This is actually a lot of fun. I started synthesizing many themes into an academic year-long narrative. In my dream course, I’d like to finish with a couple of thematic lectures that could serve as a multi-angled overview of the course. One idea I just thought of is the symbol of rice as staple food:

1. The whole (quite pointless) debate about whether Jomon people had rice cultivation, or it was Yayoi people’s. The historiographical discussion of why this is an important topic for nationalists. Maybe refer to the discussion of rice cultivation in China.

Here I have to find something to discuss ancient – early history – premodern periods. Any idea?

2. Rice as currency in the Tokugawa period. Refer to the chapter on it in Thomas Looser’s Visioning Eternity.

3. Discussion of Vitamin B deficiency during the Russo-Japanese war. Connect it to the scientific life discourse and encouragement of brown rice in the 20s and 30s.

4. Rice riots in 1918, and the following rice production policy in the colonies. People ate “foreign” rice for the first time and despised it. Discuss colonial economy + national consciousness + the symbol of rice. Lewis, Rioters and Citizens. Michael Schneider’s chapter in Colonial Modernity in Korea.

5. The discourse of “a peck of gin-shari” in wartime Japan.

5. Maybe flour diplomacy during the American occupation. The LDP’s rural politics and its 200% subsidies.

6. The “kome-banare” crisis (!)

I knew I had this issue for a long time but I am feeling it real this time. My parents are Japanese; I was born and grew up in Japan; My only mother tongue is Japanese; my nationality is Japanese too. I cannot avoid people defining me as Japanese. I cannot even have a fancy identity crisis.

My association with Japan, which, again, I did not choose but happen to have, is becoming problematic in teaching *critical thinking* of some materials. I am TA-ing for a legendary class in our department called “World War Two in History and Memory,” in which we cover many topics related to memory issues of both Japan’s aggression and atrocities and Japan’s victimhood. This class is a world history so almost no students know the historical background of Japan’s aggressions, or will learn much about it in this class. They are usually more knowledgeable of the European front and German history. For Asian history, they have not developed a point of reference from which they could read the assigned articles very critically. In other words, they tend to absorb the information from the readings — often the case simplified versions of it — without processing it. Usually this is exactly where discussion sections become useful. I, as a TA, am responsible for guiding the students to see the weaknesses and naive assumptions of the readings. This normal operation has been extremely hard and requires so much careful wording and mannerism in this class when we discuss Japanese war responsibility.

Let me give you an example. Assume there is an article which says “fascist masculinity is in Japan’s culture for centuries, and this is responsible for causing comfort women and miring their memories.” It has a point. Yes, the sociocultural background is important in understanding the phenomenon of comfort women stations and their memories. But of course you want to criticize the cultural essentialism in this argument. How would I phrase it??

I anyway started by saying “we should be always skeptical of the terms like ‘cultural tradition.’” But in order to explain why, I needed to go back to the emergence of the nation-state and how it happened in nineteenth century Japan. I also felt obligated to explain how ‘fascism’ was a time-specific phenomenon to the twentieth century. What a lecture just to make a simple critical point!

My concern is, how many students would actually care about the content of what I say no matter how carefully I explain? I am so afraid of having a reverse effect of giving them an impression: “oh she is defending Japan’s position with such elaborate details. Maybe she’s offended by the article because she is Japanese.” If this is happening it is worse than if they are not listening to me at all.

Another tricky thing is to explain the difference between Nazism and Japanese militarism/fascism — This absolutely makes me look like a Japanese apologist! I’ll blog about the details of this experience maybe later.

I have been watching episodes of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit (SVU deals with sex crimes and child abuses) since this summer. I started to watch them because they are available online at Netflix, and these episodes are usually really well made. Since I am reading books on childhood and youth, I am regarding these episodes as problem sets or exercises to think through different themes. One theme, for example, is about “children’s agency,” which I mentioned in my previous posting. To what extent the court allows children’s testimonies, what the “consent” age means, what is children’s criminality, to what extent minors are victims of their environments or aggressor responsible of their own violence. Another related theme is why “criminality” is based on the criminal’s ability to make decisions. How does genetic inheritance become an issue? What does it really mean, anyway?

Another reason why I like these episodes is that the detectives do a similar job to the historian’s. (I’m serious!) They are never 100% sure who the offenders are, but they make most educated guesses based on available evidence– and they are often wrong! Actually, the DA’s job is even more similar. They organize the evidence and demonstrate it to convince the audience — it’s all about the construction of narratives!

One of my oral examination fields is “the history of childhood and youth.” It is very fortunate that there are a couple of professors working in this field in my university. I have just started my readings this month (finally!) but I have already encountered a number of “ah hah!” moments. I’d like to share some of them here.

There has been something called “a new paradigm” in studies of childhood especially in sociology since the early 1990s. It is supposed to deny and overcome the previously prevalent developmental (psychological) approach and structural-functionalist approach. James and Prout summarize the new paradigm in Constructing and Reconstructing Childhood: Contemporary Issues in the Sociological Study of Childhood as:
1. Childhood is understood as a social construction
2. Childhood is a variable of social analysis. It can never be separated from other variables such as class, gender, or ethnicity
3. Childhood and children’s social relationships and cultures are worthy of study in their own right.
4. Children are active in the construction and determination of their own social lives
5. Ethnography is a useful methodology

To this Patrick Ryan gives a sharp comment that the focus on children’s agency (and their “authentic voices”) is a manifestation of modern romanticism of personhood (individualism), that modern childhood will continue showing the space between the natural phenomenon and the politics of representing it (a paradoxical position as an object of knowledge and a subject who knows), and that this paradox itself is not a new problem but an old one that was already there between Locke and Rousseau. (( Ryan, Patrick J. “How New is the ‘New’ Social Study of Childhood?: The Myth of a Paradigm Shift.” Journal of Interdisciplinary History 38,4. 2008. 553-576 )) Ryan’s analytics are very impressive and give you a better grasp of how the field developed. But I can also see why this “new paradigm” was an important moment for sociologists — it is similar to when international relations theorists discovered constructivist theory for the first time. The emphasis on identities, ideologies, and ideas was not new at all, but rather was considered not rigorous enough in the “scientific-minded” paradigm. Coming back to the idea of historicity and intersubjectivity with full theoretical backing must have been exciting in sociology, too.

What is surprising for me is not really the new or old paradigm, but the question of “children’s historical agency.” In actuality, most of the writings on the history of childhood are about things surrounding children, including families, childbirth professionals, laws, poverty, demography, and schooling, for example. Interestingly, Mary Maynes suggests to avoid “agency” in historical inquiry altogether because of its inappropriateness in studying the lives of girls – and children in general. (( Maynes, Mary. “Age as a Category of Historical Analysis: History, Agency, and Narratives of Childhood,” Journal of The History of Childhood and Youth 1.1, 2008: 114-124. )) I first did not take her point seriously but I keep coming back to this problem — why do we need to identify someone’s historical agency? does this mean that those without historical agency deserve no attention of historians? Steven Mintz, the author of my favorite American history book Huck’s Raft also claims the importance of children’s historical agency. But at the same time, obviously, in most circumstances, external forces (economic, social hierarchy, war etc) are more compelling factors that shape children’s world. Not denying that children have some power as agents of history, I wonder, why it has to be stated repeatedly and why historians are obsessed with this question. My temporary answer to it is that it is because of a prescriptive notion that children should have power in deciding their own society and fate — reflecting global movements to “empower children” advocated by many civic groups and the UNESCO.

Golf is a popular sport in many countries including Japan — Yet I cannot help noticing that golf represents a sport of the evil upper-class who conducts dirty politics and exploits the working class in Japanese TV dramas. It is common to see the contrast between corporate executives playing golf, having evil laughs, and his employees working hard, being exploited by them. In other words, there is a rule that heros don’t play golf in Japanese dramas (with an obvious exception if the drama is about golfers).

Is this a common phenomenon in other cultures too?