I'm 23 years old. My husband and I are at a dinner hosted by my Japanese boss. He invited another Japanese colleague and his family. The eight of us, three couples and two children, sit around the dining room table dipping into pots of boiling stew. I remember this night vividly for what happened next.
The little boy, maybe four years old, burned his tongue and started to cry. His father scolds him saying, "Stop crying. Boys don't cry." Immediately, I react. Spouting off righteous 23 year old rhetoric I just learned during my four years at university about how "boys should be allowed to express their feelings" and "we shouldn't stifle our children" I go on about how this boy should be allowed to "express his feelings." My boss's wife shoots me a look. It says, "You don't get it. Shut up." I do.
Thinking back on this now, I'm proud of the fact I knew to keep my mouth shut after being given the look that told me I overstepped my bounds. I'm also embarrassed by my arrogance. Convinced what I learned at school about what is right, I superimposed an idealistic way of thinking onto another family's cultural values. Shame on me.
It's this notion of "real men don't cry" so prevalent here in Japan that has been on my mind over the past six months. To date, more than ever before, I have seen Japanese men cry, choke up, and lose control over their ability to keep their tears in check. Certainly, there has been plenty to cry about. Those whose lives are still affected by the tsunami, earthquake, and nuclear reactor fiasco still struggle to find ways to express their frustrations, dissatisfaction, despair, and grief. The rest of the country, feeling helpless, continue to watch and rewatch television footage, hoping new ideas on how to help will emerge on cue.
Today, I'm less concerned about whether real men should or should not cry, especially in a country like Japan where strong men are considered stoic and silent. What's more important is that this pain, the basis for all these tears still exists in Japan, and will continue to exist for many, many months. It's not up to me to tell men whether it's okay to cry or not. I will share their pain if they let me. If they don't, I will stand by and let them shed their tears, hoping they know with me, their tears are safe.
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