The last ride of うなぎ組

A week ago Saturday, the 'Gumi had their last 'live'--"The Eels and Fun Family"--at B Flat in Hamaotsu. They were last, because, and I figured this out kind of after the fact--they organized the whole thing. Three hours of (I think all) high school bands; Sec-Hus and I came about an hour from the end--I was there to see THEM, after all.

And I must say, while the 'Gumi's music ain't really my style, I have watched them gel together as a group over the past few years, and they have improved massively. But Fumina is going on to bigger and better things, and Kazu and the guys are gonna stay together, make a new group. But first... the end went a little something like this--

They played. Talked. Played. Talked more. And then... got to talking about what was happening to the band. They gave Fumina a big send-off, complete with flowers, and she gave a farewell speech. It was like high-school graduation here, but somehow... more authentic. The whole band was in TEARS on stage, in front of a packed out live house (a veritable sea of high school students, with a few parents and us in for flavorful gaijin mix). Of course Dai'ichi in back was mocking the other guys from his drums in back, but hehe... I think it got to everyone. Fumina could hardly sing their signature number--Hana.

I am left with weird feelings about what it means to be a teacher. What it means to watch kids follow their dreams, and wonder where you left yours. If you ever had the slightest influence or inspiration on them, and suspecting that you didn't, but being fiercely proud of them anyway. I certainly hope that the 'Gumi Guys, no longer the 'Gumi, but something else soon, will rise out of this experience into something new and fantastic--they have a lot of talent going for them. We had to run like mad after the show was over, which was good, because I wanted to sob my eyes out when Kazu said thanks, and at the end, "うなぎ組でした。"

If it wasn't for the 'Gumi I would never have ventured into the strange world of smoky live houses and weird bands. I would not have challenged my own comfort zone to hurtle my singular foreign self into an environment so incredibly shocked to see me there. Some of my former students saw me, and exclaimed, "あっ!　先生！" ... I nodded, embarrassed as always, and uncertain of how to respond, but what I wanted to say was, "違う！もう先生じゃないよ！いま、私はただケイトやで。" I always think of good responses too late. And who knows, maybe it doesn't make sense to them anyway. Maybe they will always think of me as a teacher and not a person--I know I still regard some of my high school teachers as not exactly human. They will never be cool. (I will never be cool. I think I can live with this. I think.) But it is hard to convey to your students that while you have been trying to inspire them, a lot of the time, they end up inspiring you.