At the heart of any truly impactful non-profit endeavour lies the belief that a child's potential should never be limited by their circumstances. In Japan, KidsDoor champions this exact cause by working tirelessly to support youth facing educational and economic hurdles. Their English Drive program stands as a brilliant testament to this mission. It aims to go beyond teaching vocabulary, democratising language learning, opening global horizons and fostering quiet confidence in students who might otherwise be left behind.
When one embarks on a journey such as a LiA placement, one naturally expects to be the one imparting knowledge. Yet, as I engaged with the extraordinary minds at KidsDoor and traversed the vibrant streets of Tokyo, I was swiftly reminded of life's greatest irony: I was the one being educated. I embarked on this adventure alongside Ayoub Ouederni, a fellow EPFL scholar, and I must sincerely thank him for sharing this remarkable opportunity with me!
Throughout this project, my central role involved teaching English directly to the students and providing dedicated one-on-one tutoring. Alongside this deeply personal work, my task was to design educational materials and brainstorm dynamic activities that would engage students, making the formidable task of learning genuinely fun. In addition to creating fresh content, we facilitated workshops in tandem with corporate partners such as Libra Philanthropies, Morgan Stanley, Bank of America, and 3M. It was a rigorous undertaking, but immensely rewarding.
Our work spanned numerous sites, allowing us to interact with students of various ages. At the KidsDoor Sumida location, I spent my days with younger primary school students; we played and exchanged endless curiosities about the differences in our day-to-day lives. I also had the privilege of working at the Tamachi, Kayabacho, and Minato sites. Furthermore, KidsDoor Online provided a brilliant platform to connect and converse with individuals in more rural areas, stretching from the tropical shores of Okinawa to quiet northern villages.
In order to respect the privacy of these incredible students, I will refrain from naming them here. That being said, there would also simply be far too many to list. Their dedication to learning beyond what is strictly required is staggering. The passion with which these young minds take on the English language, a tongue so fundamentally different from Japanese, truly inspires me. Believe me, I tried the reverse and failed miserably! Beyond their academic diligence, speaking to them has taught me an immeasurable amount about resilience.
I am constantly reminded of the kind-hearted people I met who genuinely wish to bring about the change we so desperately need in the world. Take, for instance, a young and fiercely ambitious student from Kyoto. He has been tirelessly working to master English, Hungarian, and even a touch of German, all to pursue his grand goal of becoming a diplomat and representing Japan on the world stage. Then there is a brilliant student from a northern town who aims to become a dermatologist. Her ambition is beautifully motivated by her own personal journey with skin challenges, transforming her early struggles into a profound desire to heal others.
This placement also granted Ayoub and me the invaluable gift of time to travel and discover the fascinating culture, history, and nature of Japan. I found myself profoundly moved by the sheer cultural depth of the nation. I recall sitting before the Zen rock garden at Ryoanji, where I completely lost track of time, captivated by its quiet stillness. Equally unforgettable was the deeply emotional visit to the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, standing in a city that has transformed its unimaginable historical tragedy into a global dedication to peace. It is the country beautifully called an "empire of signs" by the French theorist Barthes, and from its timeless traditions to its dazzling modernity, every corner reveals a distinct elegance.
Beyond the classroom, this placement sat within a quiet contradiction: Japan is one of the world's wealthiest economies, yet child poverty there remains largely invisible, masked by cultural norms that prize self-sufficiency and discourage families from being seen to need help. KidsDoor's English Drive exists precisely because that invisibility means the public education system alone cannot close the gap, and the organisation's reliance on corporate philanthropy on top of government funding, reveals how much of Japan's educational equity work is layered rather than fully public: state support provides a base, but the work only reaches its full scale through private capital that is generous but precarious, dependent on donor goodwill rather than guaranteed entitlement. Fluency often depends on access to expensive private juku (cram schools), so a student's path to something like a diplomatic career, as with the aspiring diplomat I had the privilege of meeting, is shaped too often by family income and geography. It is this same geography that meant reaching students in Okinawa or the northern villages depended on KidsDoor Online bridging a divide the state itself has not fully closed. None of this stems from a lack of effort or ability among the students I met. Rather, these hurdles are the symptoms of a broader architecture shaped by historical contexts, entrenched cultural norms, and the subtle power dynamics that too often reserve global mobility for the privileged. In Japan, as in many corners of the world, language proficiency can act as an invisible gatekeeper, transforming education from an equaliser into a mechanism of stratification. Standing in Hiroshima, I was reminded that Japan's relationship with English, and with the wider world, is historically loaded, a legacy of a postwar reconstruction that tied global re-engagement to exactly the kind of linguistic capital I was there to teach. Framed against the SDGs, this work sits at the intersection of quality education (SDG 4) and reduced inequalities (SDG 10), sustained only through the cross-sector partnerships (SDG 17) that made it fundable at all. It is real progress, but partial, and dependent on systems well beyond any single volunteer's control.
None of this would have been possible without the extraordinary individuals who guided us. I owe an immeasurable debt of gratitude to Yuko Hirai. Her boundless kindness granted us a truly phenomenal experience, and she navigated my quite embarrassing failure to attain a decent level in Japanese with remarkable grace. It seems that, alas, Duolingo can only get one so far. I must also extend my deepest thanks to Yoshiko Kurikawa and Risa Oishi, who are key members of the English Drive program we had the absolute pleasure of collaborating with, alongside the sheer dedication of the rest of the Kidsdoor team and its tireless volunteers.
Finally, I extend my most sincere thanks to the Laidlaw Foundation and the EPFL Laidlaw team, led by Dan-Thi Nguyen, for making this transformative chapter a reality. I can only hope that those reading this will, at some point, also be able to experience the wonders this nation has to offer. For my part, I can only remark that I shall cherish these memories, and the remarkable people who made them possible, for a lifetime.
My first day in Tokyo, at the KidsDoor office in Kayabacho
and my partner-in-crime Ayoub
A touching welcome kindly prepared by the students of Sumida
A few more moments from our journey through Japan, filled with cultural discoveries and lasting memories...
Kasuga Taisha Shrine in Nara, Japan
Nara Park, where the deer set the pace
The Mitama Matsuri Lantern Festival at Tokyo's controversial Yasukuni Shrine
The Children’s Peace Monument, located in Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, Hiroshima, Japan
The Hiroshima Peace Memorial
Hase-dera in Kamakura, Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan
Keep Changing, Connect with Everything, Continue Forever (1998) by Tatsuo Miyajima at the Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo
And a few snippets from Kyoto