Today, I want to express my thoughts on differences, growth, and the quiet resilience of our students.
Many of our students are hikikomori—naturally withdrawn and reticent. They speak sparingly, yet their hearts are tender and genuine. Their purity shines through, even if they’re not always gentle. They show kindness, though sometimes their emotions can erupt into intense anger. They aren’t broken; they are authentic, multifaceted human beings.
One student, who has been with us for nearly ten years, reached a significant turning point this year. He started working, began earning his own income, and found a newfound mental stability. You might ask, “Why did it take almost ten years?” But growth doesn’t adhere to a strict schedule. For some, it happens in months; for others, it unfolds over years. What truly matters is that they keep moving forward, no matter how slowly.
We engage our students in a variety of hands-on activities—renovating houses alongside skilled professionals, harvesting apples and grapes with local farmers, handling customer service at convenience stores, and working in kitchens and on restaurant floors. Here, life isn’t just a theoretical exercise—it’s practical, immersive, and experienced together.
Above all, these students are like babies—not in what they can do now, but in the vast potential that lies within them. Just as babies need love, care, understanding, gentle guidance, and sometimes correction, so do they.
We are all different—in personality, background, pace, and in the challenges we face. Yet, when we focus too much on our differences, harmony can become elusive. I once heard that the commonalities we share as human beings far outweigh the things that separate us. Today, that idea resonated deeply with me.