It's that time of year again. Thousands of young men and women around the world are filling in blanks and scrambling around like maniacs to complete all the necessary steps for the JET application. A friend of mine is in the midst with all the rest, preparing his packet and complaining the whole time. While talking to him, it occurred to me that I never wrote the story about my JET application experience, which was nightmarish.
I suppose, if you want to be technical, you can say it began my sophomore year of high school, the first time I heard about the JET Programme. My mother met a man who had just finished JET, and he told her about the benefits of the program and the incredible times he had in Japan. She then came home and told me about it. As many of you know, you must have a university degree to be accepted in the program, so years and years of schooling stood in my way. Still, that initial interest, bolstered by my previous trip to Japan at age 11, sustained me for 6 years until my final quarter in college. I knew I wanted to live in Japan; and I knew the best and easiest way to do that was through JET. Of course, the easy part didn't include the application.
Applications are a pain in the ass - it's a fact of life - but the JET application is a doozy. My complaining friend is having a hard time with it now, and he's finished with school and unemployed. I, like so many applicants, was working toward my degree. Because I'm a glutton for pain, I elected to not take it easy my final year in college, despite having the credits to cruise through the end. I was enrolled in formal logic, a law course, two literature courses, and a creative writing course when I began the application, not to mention I had a part-time job tutoring English and commuted over an hour to my university. From what I recall, the JET application includes a health check form, an FBI fingerprint background check, several tax forms, proof of graduation or an intent to graduate form, 3 letters of recommendation, transcripts, personal statement and the completion of an online application. I'm probably leaving something out. Oh yeah - semen sample. Just joking...maybe.
Some of the listed items are easy to come by; others are a hassle, especially when forces beyond my control are unwilling to cooperate. Allow me to introduce the University of California, Riverside. Nearly every professor I had was remarkable. The courses, too, were exceptional. My peers were encouraging and friendly. And the honors counselor was my surrogate mother on campus. Thanks to these elements, I cherished my time there. Thanks to my academic counselor and the registrar, I hated it. These two entities were the cause of endless stress during my two years at UCR. My academic counselor, a grouchy hag that should've been locked in a storage unit somewhere and not deciding the fates of hundreds of students, always treated me like trash. She was condescending, rude and didn't listen to a thing I said. I even tried to be a chipper, bright-eyed lad once just to see if she'd ease up. She was responsive until I asked a question pertaining to my academic status, then she reverted to bitch mode. The registrar representative was possibly more infuriating. Whenever I'd ask a question, she'd give me attitude. She never looked at me. She stared up or to the side with her head tilted, an expression of boredom and disgust smeared across her face. She'd say, "Uh-huh" and "Yeah" but it sounded more like "Whatever" and "Piss off." And these two cows blocked the gates to JET.
If the counselor and registrar had had their way, I wouldn't be in Japan right now. You see, I needed to procure a proof of intent to graduate form, and both these delightful ladies told me UCR did not give out such a form. They didn't bother making any calls or sending any e-mails, they simply said, "No." Disheartened and strung out on school, I nearly gave up. Thankfully, my honors counselor actually knows how to do her job and cares about her students. She e-mailed my college chancellor, who informed her that all I needed to do was go to his office and turn in a request. His office, as it turns out, was above my academic counselor’s office. God, I hated her guts.
I couldn't send my fingerprints electronically, so I had to go to the police station to take ink prints. I had to mail the IRS. I had to see the doctor. I had to harass three people for letters of recommendation. I had to endure the registrar once more to get my transcript. And finally, I had to write my personal statement. Writing comes easy to me, and believe it or not, I enjoyed writing my statement after all that other shit I had to go through.
A few months later, the JET office informed me that I passed the first screening. Next up was the interview - arguably the hardest step.
What to say about the JET interview? Bring a change of underwear for afterward. Preparations? You'll hear a dozen different things from a dozen different people. Know a little Japanese. Study up on Japanese history and culture. Have a lesson plan in mind. All that goes out the window when you're in a room, sitting across from a JET alumnus, a notable member of the community and a representative from the Japanese consulate. Try not to piss your pants is probably the best advice you'll get because every interview is different. They might grind you. They might sweet-talk you. They might get your hopes up. They might break your heart. I ended the day hyperventilating in my bathroom, on the verge of tears. You've got to understand the pressure that builds up over time. Of course the world won't fall apart if you don't get in, but there's a lot riding on that 10-minute interview. And for me, it was a lot more than just a job and a ticket to Japan.
The interview site was Los Angeles. I arrived early in my new suit and practiced what I would say. A few alumni were in the waiting room. They tried to lighten the mood by telling funny stories about their time in Japan. Then I was called in. It turns out the community member who interviewed me was good friends with one of my professors. That was comforting. I had a positive feeling about things. Things, though, quickly dissolved as the interview continued. I only remember bits and pieces now, but the breaking point occurred when they asked me to do a lesson for them, pretending they had a 100-word vocabulary. The topic I chose was Thanksgiving. I began explaining the holiday and about halfway through realized I didn't know Thanksgiving very well. I panicked. I started making things up. One of the interviewers kept checking his watch. I hurried to a conclusion, making sure to clarify how much I like and respect Native-Americans, and sat down. I must've looked like a deer in headlights by that point. They asked a peculiar question: would I be willing to forfeit driving privileges in Japan if my school requested it? I said yes. They asked if my placement preferences weren’t met, would I still accept the offer. I said yes. They dismissed me with a disinterested wave, and I drifted to the elevator. Already, I was very upset. This dread I felt was largely due to personal problems piling up at home and school. My dismal performance in the interview pushed me over the edge.
The next week I searched for resources at my school, anything that could help me land a job in Japan. That was when I discovered the study/word abroad office, which also specializes in JET interview preparation. Better late than never, I suppose.
Nevertheless, two months later I received the e-mail, my acceptance in the JET Programme. Though my interview was disastrous, my resume was stellar; it's the only thing that saved me. Because of that, I believe more value is placed on the application than the interview. You should also know that once you're accepted, there are more hoops to jump through. I won't get into those.
Pointers: Look for resources before the interview. Say, "Yes," to almost everything they ask during the interview, even if you don't mean it. An acquaintance of mine said he wanted to be placed in a warm climate, preferably seaside, when asked if anywhere from Hokkaido to Okinawa was acceptable. He didn't get in. Don't panic. That goes for the interview and the follow-up e-mail. I was a short-lister, meaning that I was selected in the first batch. If your e-mail says you're an alternative choice, be patient. Several JETs I've met in Japan were second or third alternatives. One person wasn't notified until a week prior to departure. If you're placed in a rural, uncivilized corner of Japan, take it. Who knows what kind of fun is out there. And in the end, you can split after a year if you don't like it. Be willing to teach at any level. Elementary is a blast, in case you're wondering. Evening adult classes are also enjoyable. Know a little bit about Japan before the interview. Have a good reason for wanting to come here.
I could go on and on, but I think that's enough from me. Now it's time for you to get a totally different list of pointers from someone else who’s been through the gauntlet.
