Latest news with #Shakuto
Sydney Morning Herald
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
Feel like crying at work? In Japan, they can help with that
This story is part of the August 16 edition of Good Weekend. See all 14 stories. The young Japanese guys look as if they've stepped out of an anime and into the conference rooms of office buildings across Tokyo. They're extremely handsome, impeccably dressed with slightly tousled hair, and have soft, kind eyes. Those eyes will soon be spilling tears as they encourage the group of assembled office workers in the room, all of whom are women, to do the same. Some of them play melancholy songs on musical instruments. Some read stories featuring sympathetic characters who are set on a path towards a sad ending. Others show weepy films that are designed to tug at the heart-strings, such as the one about a father trying to visit his young daughter, who has been rushed to hospital in an emergency, but she dies before he can get there. Soon enough, everyone in the room is sniffling, prompted by the young man, the meeting's convener, who has himself turned on the waterworks. He then approaches each of them and gently wipes away their tears with a handkerchief, soothing them and reassuring them that it's OK to cry. The above scenario isn't a scene from the latest Studio Ghibli animated movie, but a real-life situation. A company called Ikemeso Danshi – which translates as 'handsome weeping boys' – provides this service for 7900 yen ($82) per session. 'In Japan, showing too much emotion can lead to poor relationships with others,' the company's founder, Hiroki Terai, tells me via email. 'Everyone lives by their public image. People who cry are seen as weak.' Terai wanted to change that. He got his start running 'divorce ceremonies', which involved estranged couples smashing their wedding rings. He found that they'd often both cry together and would say later that they'd found the experience therapeutic. He transferred this idea to the workplace, where people traditionally bottle up their feelings. 'There's definitely a reason for a service like this,' says anthropology lecturer Dr Shiori Shakuto at The University of Sydney. 'I think it shows that women are more prominent in the workplace now in Japan and that people are wanting to become more open, bringing out something that used to be kept for the private domain and making it public.' Loading Shakuto points out that the advertising around Ikemeso Danshi describes it as a healing service and that 'traditionally, such services have been given by women to men, and they're often sexualised, whereas with this service, it's the women who are feeling healed because they can look at good-looking men who are showing their vulnerability by crying'. Ikemeso Danshi, and its army of about 20 crying conveners bearing hankies, has been teasing tears out of Tokyo's workers since 2015. Shakuto says the idea is taking hold at the same time as certain changes in Japanese society are taking place. 'For the longest time, work was central to life and identity,' she says, 'but I think that's definitely shifting and there's greater work-life balance, especially since COVID.' As for whether this could work anywhere else, such as Australia, Shakuto is doubtful the business model would translate. 'There's definitely something in the idea that opening up to your colleagues more is good for the work culture, but would crying together work here? I'm not so sure.'
The Age
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Age
Feel like crying at work? In Japan, they can help with that
This story is part of the August 16 edition of Good Weekend. See all 14 stories. The young Japanese guys look as if they've stepped out of an anime and into the conference rooms of office buildings across Tokyo. They're extremely handsome, impeccably dressed with slightly tousled hair, and have soft, kind eyes. Those eyes will soon be spilling tears as they encourage the group of assembled office workers in the room, all of whom are women, to do the same. Some of them play melancholy songs on musical instruments. Some read stories featuring sympathetic characters who are set on a path towards a sad ending. Others show weepy films that are designed to tug at the heart-strings, such as the one about a father trying to visit his young daughter, who has been rushed to hospital in an emergency, but she dies before he can get there. Soon enough, everyone in the room is sniffling, prompted by the young man, the meeting's convener, who has himself turned on the waterworks. He then approaches each of them and gently wipes away their tears with a handkerchief, soothing them and reassuring them that it's OK to cry. The above scenario isn't a scene from the latest Studio Ghibli animated movie, but a real-life situation. A company called Ikemeso Danshi – which translates as 'handsome weeping boys' – provides this service for 7900 yen ($82) per session. 'In Japan, showing too much emotion can lead to poor relationships with others,' the company's founder, Hiroki Terai, tells me via email. 'Everyone lives by their public image. People who cry are seen as weak.' Terai wanted to change that. He got his start running 'divorce ceremonies', which involved estranged couples smashing their wedding rings. He found that they'd often both cry together and would say later that they'd found the experience therapeutic. He transferred this idea to the workplace, where people traditionally bottle up their feelings. 'There's definitely a reason for a service like this,' says anthropology lecturer Dr Shiori Shakuto at The University of Sydney. 'I think it shows that women are more prominent in the workplace now in Japan and that people are wanting to become more open, bringing out something that used to be kept for the private domain and making it public.' Loading Shakuto points out that the advertising around Ikemeso Danshi describes it as a healing service and that 'traditionally, such services have been given by women to men, and they're often sexualised, whereas with this service, it's the women who are feeling healed because they can look at good-looking men who are showing their vulnerability by crying'. Ikemeso Danshi, and its army of about 20 crying conveners bearing hankies, has been teasing tears out of Tokyo's workers since 2015. Shakuto says the idea is taking hold at the same time as certain changes in Japanese society are taking place. 'For the longest time, work was central to life and identity,' she says, 'but I think that's definitely shifting and there's greater work-life balance, especially since COVID.' As for whether this could work anywhere else, such as Australia, Shakuto is doubtful the business model would translate. 'There's definitely something in the idea that opening up to your colleagues more is good for the work culture, but would crying together work here? I'm not so sure.'
