2023.05.23
I made an announcement 10 minutes ago. Starting at 8:00 p.m., we would spend the rest of the time without using our PCs or smartphones. If possible, I wanted to try cutting off all three "Ds"—*denki* (electricity), *denpa* (radio waves), and devices—but since I couldn't just plunge the room into darkness, and considering that various building facilities run on electricity, I figured it would be enough for now to just turn off our PCs and smartphones. With a countdown, the "experiment" began.
As part of a class I'm teaching this semester called "Introduction to SBC," I set the theme for the day as "chilling out." This class is co-taught by multiple instructors, and for each session between the first (orientation) and the last (critique and review), the instructor in charge designs the class content based on their own ideas. Since it's an intensive "first-half of the semester" course, it will conclude by the end of May. A distinctive feature is that we use and think about the residential educational and research facility, which is an embodiment of the "SBC" or "Student Built Campus" spirit (we build the future campus ourselves). Of course, the purpose is not just to stay overnight, but to learn through direct, on-site experience. Therefore, the class is structured to start after 6:00 p.m. (after the 5th period on the timetable) and dismiss the following morning.
My session was scheduled toward the end of the "first half of the semester," so I reconsidered the content while observing posts on social media about the classes that had already taken place. Perhaps it's a reaction to the long period of "staying home." Or maybe it's the atmosphere that has always permeated this campus. The students' movements are, in any case, restless. They tackle one assignment after another and are always chased by deadlines. They can't even seem to make time for deep thought or introspection, and it appears as if they are going through their days in a somewhat flighty manner.
To be grounded and converse in their own words (not borrowed ones). "Chilling out" is one catalyst for this. I wonder if the message I'm trying to convey in my own way is getting through. I'm not particularly advocating for being "slow," but I thought we should try to spend some quiet time and focus on conditioning our bodies and minds.
I had sent guidelines to the students in advance, explaining that the goal was to "savor a calm and rich time" without relying on the "3Ds," and that "Basically, you should spend your time quietly and slowly. Laughing loudly in a vulgar way or moving your body vigorously is out of the question (unacceptable)." and "Typical activities possible after 8:00 p.m. include chatting, drinking tea, writing (by hand only), reading books, and sleeping."
In fact, right after the "chilling out" time began, I caught myself instinctively pulling my smartphone out of my pocket. A student witnessed this, but I hastily switched it to "airplane mode," put it in my bag, and spent the rest of the time until the next morning without using my PC or smartphone.
As the night wore on, the students' behavior seemed to diverge into roughly four groups. All were as I had imagined, and nothing particularly surprising happened. First, there were the students who went to bed early. Is this the ultimate form of "chilling out"? In a classroom, sleeping during class would earn a negative evaluation, but since this was a "chilling out" exercise in a residential building, going to sleep right away was probably the right thing to do.
Next were the students who, based on the advance notice, had brought manga, novels, sketchbooks, and the like. Reading or drawing are solitary activities, but spending time in the common room while sensing the presence of others isn't bad. Though seemingly separate, a strange sense of security and unity emerged, and a "chilled-out" feeling filled the room.
There was also a group that, after initially trying to embrace "chilling out," soon abandoned it (or couldn't stand it) and started playing games boisterously together. Since the students were gathered for an overnight stay, this was an easily predictable development, but they were ignoring the guidelines and making a racket. It's true that games serve to connect people. But why couldn't they chat quietly and calmly? I watched them, somewhat exasperated by their immaturity.
Furthermore, there were the students who spent their time "chilling out" and talking. Several groups had already formed spontaneously, and conversations were underway in each. I also joined in, talking about various things, from tips on conducting interviews to stories from my time studying abroad, and even relationship talk. Eventually, the conversation turned to the nature of classes and "research groups," and even to each person's way of life and anxieties about the future.
Although I had written in advance that "I will go to bed around midnight," my chat with the students continued for quite some time. As I started to get sleepy and was looking for the right moment to leave, someone new would join the circle. I couldn't take that as a cue to end the conversation, so I would talk a little longer. This cycle repeated, so there was no end in sight. Having spent a good while chatting, the tension had already dissipated, and combined with my physical fatigue, I was experiencing a pleasant feeling. In the end, I ended up chatting with the students about this and that until after 2:00 a.m.
The essence of "chilling out" is to be liberated from a sense of obligation and productivity. A conversation with no set beginning or end is not something you need to create intentionally. That's why the very act of setting "chilling out" as an "assignment" is, in fact, a strange thing. To talk leisurely with someone. Just "being" together is probably enough. From there, an interest in the other person and a feeling of wanting to engage with them over the long term are born. It is precisely this "chilling out" time that is needed on campus.