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Looking Back on My JET Program Experience: A Reflection Nearly a Decade Later
- Mike Viscusi
- Jul 1
- 5 min read
It’s been almost ten years since I first shared my long, unfiltered account of life as a JET ALT in Akkeshi, Hokkaido. That piece—A Year of Tomfoolery and Fun—has been read, shared, criticized, and praised by thousands of people over the years.
I know it pissed some people off. That was the tone I intended, and I won’t apologize for writing it. I still stand by every word. Those experiences were real to me, and that period shaped who I became.
On the other side of the coin, I’ve received countless messages from people around the world—many of them frustrated with their own situations on JET—who told me that article gave them the courage to leave, or at least to re-evaluate their options after college.
But time has a way of giving you perspective. I want to take a moment to reflect on what’s changed in my thinking—and what hasn’t—since I walked out of that little town.
What I Still Believe
✅ JET is not a career, nor is it a viable long-term solution for English education in Japan.
It’s a stepping stone—an opportunity to explore, to learn about yourself, and, ideally, to grow your skills. But it’s not meant to be a forever job. If you treat it that way, you’re likely to be disappointed.
Let’s also not ignore the elephant in the room. Despite JET being around since the 1980s, Japan still struggles significantly with English fluency and proficiency. According to the most recent TOEFL statistics (Check out pages 19 and 22 for specific information), Japan ranks third worst in Asia for English scores—only Laos and Tajikistan perform worse.
Even more striking, Taliban-led Afghanistan (an openly anti-Western establishment) scores higher in English than Japan. So does Communist China. So does North Korea.
So can we truly say the JET Program is effective at all? I think these results speak for themselves.
✅ ESID (Every Situation Is Different)
My experience in Akkeshi was uniquely frustrating in ways other JETs might never encounter. Some people land in placements that feel like family. Some, like me, end up feeling isolated. Both are real and valid.
✅ Cultural challenges are real.
Living in rural Japan as a foreigner is not easy. You will be watched, questioned, and sometimes judged. If you’re not prepared for that, you can burn out fast.
What I See Differently Now
✅ I was younger and more reactive.
When I first wrote my account, I was in my twenties. I felt I had something to prove. I don’t regret being honest, but today, I would tell that version of myself to breathe, listen more, and pick battles more carefully.
✅ Not everyone who stays is “stuck.”
I saw a lot of my fellow JETs as trapped or complacent—and to be fair, some of them probably were. But I also realize now that many were simply choosing a different path that worked for them, regardless of what their future might have held.
✅ My frustrations weren’t only about Japan.A lot of what I was wrestling with—loneliness, grief, identity—would have followed me anywhere. The circumstances in Akkeshi just brought it all to the surface.
Why I Leave the Original Post Up
I’ve debated taking that post down. It’s raw and, at times, abrasive. But it’s also honest. For better or worse, that was my reality then.
I leave it up because I believe people considering JET deserve to see different perspectives—not just the highlight reels. If it helps even one person make a more informed decision about their own journey, it’s worth it.
Do I Really Hate Akkeshi?
No, I don’t hate Akkeshi. Even after everything that happened, I don’t think it’s fair to say I hate the place itself.
Akkeshi was a beautiful part of Japan—wild, remote, and full of history. It was also the setting for some of the most difficult moments in my life so far. I don’t regret going there, but I also won’t pretend it was the right fit for me.
What I didn’t like was the people I found myself surrounded by. Maybe it was just circumstance that put me in the orbit of people I had no business dealing with. Even here in Texas, if I were given the choice to spend time with them, I still wouldn’t.
Let’s also talk about the values some of those JETs held. If someone’s beliefs are different from mine, that’s fine—I just choose not to deal with them in the future. But I wasn’t going to stand there and be verbally attacked or lectured by people who felt entitled to judge me. Opinions are great to have, but nobody likes it when you shove yours into every conversation.
Putting on an act to get people to like you is exhausting. That’s why I act and speak the way I do. Sure, it might upset people who aren’t comfortable in their own skin—but that’s something I can’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t, and never wanted to control. Maybe that’s why I did what I did that night in Kushiro. And in hindsight, that might have been the real turning point for me during my time in Hokkaido.
I also feel sorry for the people of Akkeshi. While the village itself is rich in history, we can’t deny the fact that it is, indeed, a dying place. Seeing all those kids leave to pursue better opportunities after they graduate high school—can you really blame them? In that part of the country, what real future is left? And with the population of Japan growing older every year, it’s only a matter of time before gaijin need to be “imported” to fill the gaps and keep things running. Whether Akkeshi truly sees or understands that reality still remains to be seen.
Hate is too simple a word. What I felt, and sometimes still feel, is a mix of frustration, disappointment, and relief that I had the guts to walk away.
Where I Am Today
Nearly a decade later, my relationship with Japan has evolved. I’ve worked in other parts of the country, built friendships with wonderful Japanese colleagues and clients, built three thriving businesses, and married into a great Japanese family. And next year, Ayaka and I are heading back to Japan permanently.
And the people I’ve met along the way have made this ride that much sweeter—even if some didn’t always have positive feedback or didn’t like me for who I am. That’s totally fine. Because most people I’ve worked with have seen me as a one-in-a-million teacher, not just another run-of-the-mill Japanese instructor.
I can’t say all of this was because of my time in the JET Program. There were many more trials and challenges along the way—loss, grief, standing up to critics and naysayers about who I am and what I’m about. But still, Simple Gaijin grew out of all those experiences.
Today, I help other foreigners navigate Japan with the same unvarnished honesty I needed back then—but with more empathy, more perspective, and a lot less ego. Students, young and old, and their parents continue to place their faith in me to give them a chance.
It’s true—I may not have a PhD or a master’s degree in Japanese, nor an N1 JLPT or a Level 1 Kanken certification. That’s fine too. I’ve never claimed to hold any of those qualifications. For what I needed to become a teacher here in Texas, I had more than enough. But I also know, deep down, that I can do more—and I want to do more. That’s another reason I’m going back to Japan permanently: to be in an environment that pushes me to keep growing.
I’ve learned that in this day and age, experience often triumphs over theory. And that’s something most native Japanese teachers will never fully understand: what it feels like to be a gaijin learning this language from the outside in. And that is why plenty of Gaijin have placed their faith in me.
If you’re reading this as a new JET, or someone thinking about applying, my advice is simple:
Go.
See it for yourself. Be prepared to be humbled, challenged, and surprised.
And know that, whatever happens, you’ll learn more about yourself than you ever expected.
—Mike
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