"Jukusei Kaiei"—The Next Challenge | Hiroyuki Ishida, Dean of the Graduate School of Health Management
2023.08.01
In the summer, I often visit the sea in Kamakura on weekends. Perhaps it's because I watched too many movies starring my senior, Yuzo Kayama, during my student days, but I've somehow become convinced that the sea and a suntan are must-have items for a man. I feel restless if I don't go to the sea in the summer. In this age where skin whitening is all the rage, many would probably say that getting a tan is out of the question. However, after experiencing summer in Southern Europe, I feel that, regardless of skin health, skin whitening is not necessarily an international standard. I don't particularly engage in marine sports. Just surrendering myself to the current and floating among the waves feels incredibly pleasant. When I go a fair distance offshore and look back at the Kamakura coast and the cliffs of Kotsubo from afar, I think that Japan's seas have their own charm and are not to be dismissed. I am grateful that this is all thanks to the swimming ability I acquired in the pool classes at Keio's affiliated schools.
There is a term, "Jukusei Kaiei" (All Keio Students Should Swim). An article by Professor Osamu Kuroda, then Vice Principal of the Institute of Physical Education, in the August 8, 2016, edition of Mita-hyoron online's "New A Brief Encyclopedia of Keio University" is interesting for understanding the history of Jukusei Kaiei. Let's excerpt some of its content. The term "Jukusei Kaiei" first appeared in print in the October 1939 issue of "Mita-hyoron (official monthly journal published by Keio University Press)," where then-President Shinzo Koizumi is quoted as saying, "Jukusei Kaiei. This is my immediate ideal. ... It is not without reason that some American universities do not grant a bachelor's degree to those who cannot swim 100 yards. Keio students, all of you must swim. The opportunity for you to perform a great good deed always awaits you, surprisingly close at hand." Professor Kuroda explains that "a great good deed" means protecting oneself (from drowning) and acquiring the ability to help those who are drowning, and this sentiment was embedded in the term "Jukusei Kaiei."
Now, this spirit has been firmly passed down at Yochisha (the Keio elementary school), which I attended, and even today, students are tasked with the goal of completing a 1000-meter swim before graduation. When I was a student, very few pupils attended private swimming schools, so most of us learned to swim and aimed for the 1000-meter goal in the school's pool classes. However, the teachers were not necessarily swimming experts, so the quality of instruction varied, and I remember having a relatively hard time. Still, I managed to figure things out on my own and practiced diligently at the swimming workshops held during the summer vacation, finally completing the 1000-meter swim in the fifth grade. It was the first time in my life I experienced that "practice makes the impossible possible." However, looking at the current situation, perhaps due to an increase in education-conscious families, it has become common for children to attend swimming schools after school, on weekends, or even from early childhood. I hear that by the time pool classes begin, a considerable number of students can already swim 1000 meters by default. This situation, where what was once an invaluable experience of practice making the impossible possible for me has now become possible without practice, leaves me with mixed feelings—it's gratifying, yet also a little disappointing.
Perhaps many of the teachers felt the same way. In 2012, Yochisha began a new challenge, separate from the 1000-meter swim: a long-distance swim (about 2 km) at the Kengyo coast in Tateyama (for sixth-graders, participation optional). Having competed in triathlons, I know well that the ocean, with its swells and currents, presents a different level of physical demand than a pool, even for the same distance or time. And that's not all. The experience of swimming in the open sea toward a horizon where no land is visible must surely evoke immeasurable tension and anxiety for elementary school students (and even some adults).
Of course, accidents must be avoided at all costs, so the school makes incredibly thorough preparations. As I specialize in sports medicine and safety management for athletic competitions is one of my research themes, and I am also involved in BLS (Basic Life Support) education at the Juku, I had the opportunity to observe the event this year. The three crucial points for event safety management are: 1) securing lifesaving equipment (such as AEDs and rescue boards), 2) securing personnel who can use it, and 3) establishing an emergency procedure, including backup hospitals (which we call an emergency action plan). I have been involved in safety management for the Olympics and World Championships in the past, and even for large-scale events, ensuring these three points is not as easy to implement on-site as it sounds. Budgets may limit ①, and for ②, since it often relies on volunteers, commitment can be weak. Many people raise their hands to help, but when it comes to scheduling, we often hear, "I can't take time off work, so it's impossible." For ③, due to the national health insurance system, many medical institutions are reluctant to provide preferential treatment or exceptional medical care. As this is a school-sponsored event where children are entrusted to the school by their parents, safety management is naturally the top priority. However, the Tateyama long-distance swim had an impressively well-thought-out plan. Doctors, nurses, and certified lifesavers from both within and outside the Keio Gijuku Shachu, mainly alumni, gathered. Alumni with small vessel operator licenses handled the rescue boats, and the on-site management staff, including teachers, provided extensive guidance and supervision. Furthermore, a nearby hospital, with which alumni are involved in its operation, had prepared to accept patients. A system was in place to support the participating students with an "All-Keio" effort, and I realized my concerns were unfounded. I witnessed the wonderful unifying power of the Juku, something that cannot be explained by mere volunteer spirit.
No matter how meticulous the safety management system, it is not possible to prevent 100% of accidental incidents associated with sports (such as sudden cardiac death or traumatic injuries). It's true that a life of watching TV all day while eating watermelon in the living room might make sudden cardiac death less likely. However, through the COVID-19 pandemic, we should have learned much about the "harm of inactivity." The same applies to school physical education. The attempt to hold a challenging event while accepting a certain level of risk, after thorough preparation for safety management, feels consistent with the goals of President Koizumi mentioned at the beginning.
The late Professor Atsumaro Kuwamori, who was involved in physical education at Yochisha for many years, shared this story with me in his later years. I recall it was around the time when "yutori education" (a more relaxed, pressure-free approach) was becoming a topic of public debate. "A one-size-fits-all approach risks not bringing out latent potential. Yochisha students are often highly athletic, so precisely because they are in their growth period, we have valued aiming high and striving for even greater heights. Swimming, ski camps, mountaineering and camping, rugby, and so on. Some of these were avant-garde attempts in elementary education at the time, but because they were Yochisha students, they were able to keep up. There seem to be various opinions on how school physical education should be, but I think this is the right way for Yochisha's physical education."
In this era where coexistence is emphasized, I imagine there would be debate over this thinking, which focuses on higher achievers. However, seeing the school's cherished attitude of taking on challenges being carefully and firmly passed down on-site with the cooperation of the Keio Gijuku Shachu, I felt that this was the right way, just as Professor Kuwamori said. Watching the Yochisha students swimming energetically in the sun-drenched waves, I left the sea of Tateyama with a refreshed feeling.