Tomoya Sato’s Vision for Educational Excellence

I was asked to write an essay on children’s education, but I am just a high school graduate who is neither an educator nor has helped my child pass the University of Tokyo Science III exam.

Kids who grew up carefree in the northern land, didn’t understand factoring, and had never read Yukio Mishima, went on to become novelists, were admired by the world, and were able to make a living doing what they loved, even more so than YouTubers. That’s me.

Time has passed and I am now in my 40s. Having been exposed to the turbulent waters of society, he came to know his own worth, and learned that life is not easy. Eventually, he started a family and had a child. Shortly after my child became an elementary school student, that day finally came. “Dad, please help me with my homework,” she said, bringing a handout. Of course I was shocked.

What can you teach me when I haven’t studied at all? Well, before that… how should I teach it?

Readers who subscribe to magazines such as Bungeishunju tend to assume that they are highly educated, but the publishing industry I work in is full of highly educated people, and everyone around me is like, “At least a graduate of Waseda University.” It’s a group of people. The main job of these superhumans was to bring out the abilities of writers. Editors are a group of professionals who specialize in “skills that develop talent.”

Praise the other person, motivate them, make them aware of their strengths, subtly correct their weaknesses, and move on to the next stage. I received this kind of top-level “education” and was able to receive the Mishima Yukio Award even though I had never read Yukio Mishima. However, even though I had only graduated from high school, I did not have the “skills to develop my talent.” There was no children, so when I tried to teach them their homework, the child would suddenly get angry and yell, “Why don’t you know this!” and the child would be stunned.