Jeepney Press / Alma Reyes

TRAFFIC by Alma Reyes

“Ryosaikenbo” for Eternity

A couple of months ago, women’s status in Japanese society was the spotlight of so much hullabaloo in the media. Former Prime Minister Yoshiro Mori, who was then Olympic organizing committee chief, lit himself in re for carelessly stating in public that women talk too much causing board meetings to drag on endlessly. Perhaps, if such a remark was proclaimed in the 1950s~60s, Japanese may have taken it nonchalantly. However, as we slide closer to the middle of the 21st century, Mori’s “slip of the tongue” rampaged television and social media across the globe as crude sexism. For a country like Japan that has always been protective of its national and international image, the attack on female discrimination had to be dealt with like greased lightning. What better solution to camouflage women’s helpless position in Japanese society than to push Mori out of the door like punishment and lay the red carpet for a woman replacement in former Olympic medalist Seiko Hashimoto. To further add glitter to the carpet, twelve new female members now occupy seats in the Olympic committee executive board—a far cry from Prime Minister Suga’s cabinet with only two female ministers.

Consequently, the action may have silenced social media, and probably made Japanese women relieved and even proud that finally, they can be deservingly recognized for their capabilities rather than continually carrying the flag of “Ryosaikenbo.” But, was that really enough?

“Ryosaikenbo,” (良妻賢母) literally “good wife, wise mother," was first coined in 1875 and identified the ideal womanhood in Japan: a woman who was expected to master domestic skills and develop moral strength and propriety to raise strong, intelligent children. Traditionally, childbearing was viewed as a “patriotic duty,” and although the modern age has witnessed more women entering into the workforce, many female workers still feel obligated to serve their superiors, quit work after marriage or childbirth, or refrain from asserting one’s ambition too aggressively—an action that is still, even today looked upon as “unladylike.”

In my own experience having worked in Japanese companies, I was not unique among female employees who had to make and serve tea to colleagues and guests. “Normal” tasks unrelated to my scope of work included buying milk at the convenience store or buying stamps at the post office. A study has shown that despite the Equal Employment Opportunity Act enacted in 1956, only 8% of the 1.2 million Japanese companies as of April, 2020 attained position of female president. According to the World Economic Forum’s report on Global Gender Gap in 2018, Japan ranked 114 of 144 industrialized nations.

On the domestic front, “Onna wa sanpo sagatte,” (女は三歩下がっ て) is still very much a cultural practice in marriages and households. The saying connotes that the wife maintains three steps behind her husband at all times, and never to walk side by side. This applies as well to the company setting where often women are seen walking a few steps behind their higher ranking male executives. Where “ladies first” is practiced in many countries, “men first” is omnipresent in Japan. Surely, the modern era has tried to progress beyond this archaic tradition, and has even assigned the label “Nikushoku-kei” (carnivorous) for active women in society. Yet, despite such recent developments in gender equality, seeing sexism scrapped o from the Japanese scene appears to be merely a fictional ideal; wishful thinking, if put more accurately.

Finding employment in Japan for women above 35 years old is excruciatingly harsh; moreso for married women and mothers. Female television reporters and announcers are expected to be young, charming, and attractive to some degree. Some TV variety and talk shows use young women as “props,” dressed in “pleasing” attires, such as short skirts or school uniforms, seated in the background behind the main commentators, with no apparent roles. The term “companion” is reserved for female usherettes or guides in events or fairs, who are again, young, attractive, sometimes dressed like stewardesses or in anime-like attires.

Although few feminist groups exist, the general consciousness itself of women’s rights is evidently weak. A resigned sentiment of “shoganai” seems to be the most peaceful way out of conflict and confrontation, which many Japanese dislike. This, perhaps, is living proof of a rm and solid tradition that Japanese believe needs to be guarded to preserve their cultural identity—like a permanent chain that many Japanese, young and old, are less willing to unfasten so easily. And, whether Japanese women feel either content or powerless with such an unalterable gender system can only signify that their pursuit of happiness may linger somewhere else.

Alma Reyes / Jeepney Press