Sounding an alarm? Or just watching?

I went to see the documentary film
"The Making of a Japanese."

Oh, I'm feeling all stirred up.
It means I'm moved. It feels like something deep inside me is being shaken.

When you hear that it's about "Japanese public elementary schools,"
you might imagine it would expose the problems Japan is facing.
But this film is different.
It doesn't sound any alarm bells.

It focuses on first and sixth graders during the 2021 pandemic,
and it conveys the wavering and conflicts of the children and teachers in a very straightforward way.

What moved me most was
how it scooped up the events right in front of us,
and I felt love in the gaze of this film
that captured things "just as they are."

The director and editor is Ema Ryan Yamazaki.
If I ever have the chance to meet her, I would love to express my gratitude for this careful work.

In a journalism lecture at university, Tatsuya Mori came as a guest,
and it reminded me of when I watched "A,"
a documentary film where he went inside Aum Shinrikyo for close-up coverage.
Watching the film, you could see the director trying to capture Aum "as it was,"
but the camera's perspective conveyed the wavering that emerged, especially in the second half.
Because documentary films are footage of reality, it's hard to doubt that they are factual.
But "A" taught me that a documentary is heavily influenced
by the director's gaze and their own wavering.

So, the perspective of the film I watched today was so open and relaxed,
and the fact that it kept filming what was in front of it without wavering
made me feel the greatness of it as a documentary film first and foremost.

Films that are propaganda or designed to sound an alarm in an easy-to-understand way
tend to make the audience's reactions flow in one direction,
but I imagine there are as many reactions and impressions to this film as there are viewers.
Because the film has no unnecessary intentions, it's in a more "raw" state.
It has an energy that resonates deeply with whatever part of the viewer it touches.

Where did it resonate with me the most?

The first-grade teacher's words, "It feels like I'm on a balance beam between restriction and freedom,"
left an impression on me.
This isn't limited to public schools; my eldest daughter, who attends Ohinata Elementary School,
often talks about "freedom and responsibility" at school.

In this era of wavering, no matter where you are, even if everyone feels things differently,
perhaps we all share the feeling of "being on a balance beam."

Teachers facing children every day while wondering what the right answer is.
Children feeling various things in their small society.
It's amazing.
There is a society there where human beings are forming and growing while wavering together.

If we are to swing the pendulum healthily in such a wavering society,
I think the "stillness" or "emptiness" at home
will become increasingly important for balance.
Rather than trying to grasp your fulcrum with tension,
it's more like soaking in a bath.

I also thought that in order for me to fully enjoy the wavering of this era with my children,
grounding is definitely the key.