2022.11.08
The fall semester began, and we are already in the sixth week. The trees are changing color, and the campus has entered a beautiful season. It is only now that I truly feel the students have returned. It is a pleasure to be spending more time with students in classrooms and laboratories. Of course, I also run into colleagues. Although many meetings are still held online, it feels good just to pass by colleagues. Long-distance commuting was supposed to have become the norm, but perhaps because I've grown accustomed to "staying home," it seems better to physically prepare myself for the commute to and from campus.
Sometimes, it is easier to "remain" on campus than to force myself to travel a long way home late at night. I myself have "remained" on campus three times this semester. Staying overnight on campus eliminates the hassle of the next day's commute and allows for a leisurely morning. Ultimately, this leads to the idea that one could simply live on campus.
Currently, a student dormitory is under construction on campus. From the side of the lecture halls and main building that I usually use, the construction site had long been hidden by trees. Shortly before the fall semester, some of those trees were cut down, and the building suddenly appeared. I had seen it many times in blueprints and drawings, but seeing the actual building gives it a real presence. It will soon be connected to the peripheral road, and the student dormitory will become a part of the campus. Literally, it will become possible to live on campus. The area, consisting of five buildings—four residential wings and a common building—has been named "H (Eta) Village." At the Shonan Fujisawa Campus (SFC), building names are assigned Greek letters, and "H (Eta)" was chosen for "H" as in "House," where students will live.
If all goes well, "H Village" will be completed early next year, and students will begin living there from April. Since they will be living on campus, the time spent commuting will be virtually nil. They can sleep in leisurely in the morning and return to their own beds immediately without having to "remain" on campus.
Needless to say, our learning is intertwined with our lives. Every day is a continuous series of learning experiences. To live with learning at the center of one's activities. This style is not particularly new. For example, there is the following passage in "The Autobiography of Fukuzawa Yukichi," written in the 30th year of the Meiji era. It is a bit long, but I will quote it here.
When it came to academic study, it was thought that no one in the world at that time could surpass the students of Ogata's Juku. To give one example: In March of the third year of the Ansei era, I suffered from a fever but fortunately made a full recovery. While I was ill, I used a "bound pillow," which was a zabuton cushion or something similar tied up. As I gradually recovered my strength, I felt the desire to use a normal pillow. At that time, I was living with my older brother in the Kurayashiki (warehouse residence) in Nakatsu, and I asked one of my brother's servants to bring me a normal pillow, as I wanted to use one. But he said there were no pillows, no matter how hard he looked. Then it suddenly occurred to me. I had been living in the Kurayashiki for about a year, but I had never once used a pillow. The reason was that time did not matter; there was almost no distinction between day and night. Just because the sun had set, I did not think of going to sleep, but instead read books incessantly. When I grew tired from reading and became sleepy, I would either fall asleep slumped over my desk or use the edge of the tokonoma alcove as a pillow. I had never once truly laid out a futon, covered myself with bedding, and slept with a pillow. It was only then that I realized it myself, thinking, "Of course there are no pillows. I've never used one to sleep before." This should give you a general idea of the atmosphere. It was not that I was a particularly diligent student; most of my fellow students were the same. When it came to studying, we truly studied as hard as was humanly possible.
"The Autobiography of Fukuzawa Yukichi," New Edition ("The Studies of the Keio students," Iwanami Shinsho, 1978, p. 80)
This "Ogata Juku style" is one style we advocate for. It seems that in those days, there were many instances of somewhat rough and unsanitary conditions. But to read books as much as you like, talk until you are satisfied, eat when you are hungry, and lie down when you are sleepy. When you wake up, you take a shower and get back to your work. It would be wonderful if such an atmosphere began to permeate "H Village." The integration of learning and life. It means savoring the luxury of being able to use one's own time more freely than ever before. A special kind of time will flow, one that is not found on the pre-set "timetables" or academic calendars.
I hear that alumni who attended the campus 30 years ago used to "remain" by slumping over their desks or lying on the cold, hard floor. They must have been so engrossed in their studies that they forgot the time, forgot even their pillows. Perhaps they were absorbed in conversation. Already, the lifestyle of the students of the past is alive here. And the relationships cultivated in that environment are robust. When a new way of life begins beyond the grove of trees, this campus is sure to become an even more interesting place.