Coeducation in the Age of “Good Wife, Wise Mother”
Coeducation in the Age of “Good Wife, Wise Mother”
Koizumi Ikuko’s Quest for “Equality of Opportunity”
Abstract and Keywords
Although postwar conservatives argued that coeducation was “forced” on Japanese people as part of Occupation-era reforms, in fact a number of progressive Japanese educators began advocating for coeducation in the early twentieth century. This chapter analyzes the work of one such prominent educator, Koizumi Ikuko (1892–1964), whose seminal book Danjo kyōgakuron (On coeducation, 1931) forwarded a compelling argument for coeducation at a time when the Japanese government sought to reinforce gender differences through sex-segregated education. Koizumi’s advocacy of coeducation was underwritten by a presumption of equality between the sexes that was radical for its time, and remarkable for its anticipation of Occupation-era debates on gender and education that transformed the postwar discursive landscape. Understanding Koizumi’s theories about sexual equality thus helps us to re-think histories of Japanese women during the 1930s that characterize them as compliant with the contemporary “good wife and wise mother” ideology of women’s roles.
IN THE YEARS SINCE WORLD WAR II, Japanese women have increasingly taken advantage of the many Occupation-era legal reforms that were intended to promote gender equality. One of the most important of these reforms, the Fundamental Law of Education of 1947, formally “recognized” coeducation for the first time in Japanese history, thus officially encouraging schools from elementary to university levels to offer women the same educational opportunities as men. As a result of this new policy, women in the postwar period have completed increasingly higher levels of education in increasing numbers, which in turn has encouraged many women to envision life paths outside of the conventional roles of housewife and mother.1
While coeducation has frequently been portrayed by conservatives as a reform that was forced on the Japanese as a product of foreign intervention, more recent research has demonstrated that progressive Japanese educators played pivotal roles in the promotion and eventual adoption of coeducation as a goal of postwar educational reform. One such educator was Koizumi Ikuko (1892–1964), a graduate of the prestigious Tokyo Women’s Upper Normal School (Tokyo Joshi Kōtō Shihan Gakkō) who went on to study in the United States, receiving a bachelor’s degree in divinity from Oberlin College in 1927 and a master’s degree in education from the University of Michigan in 1928 before enrolling in a PhD (p.90) program at that institution in educational psychology. (Both schools were coeducational at the time of Koizumi’s enrollment.) She returned to her native country in 1930 to collect data for her dissertation, and became involved with a group of progressive educators who were advocating for coeducation.2 This was in the early 1930s, when the liberal era of “Taishō democracy” was rapidly giving way to the strident militarism and cultural conservatism that followed the Manchurian Incident of 1931, setting Japan on the road to total war. While the publication of Koizumi’s 1931 treatise Danjo kyōgakuron (On coeducation) was thus badly timed,3 the text found new life in the years immediately following World War II, and its arguments and presumptions are strikingly consistent with the language of subsequent Occupation-era directives on educational reform and gender equality.
Koizumi’s work is important not just because her arguments for equality of educational opportunity were ahead of their time, but also because she couched those arguments in terms of the inherent equality of men and women. She argued for the potential of women to contribute to society on an equal footing with men, at a time when the Japanese educational system was structured around the assumption that women should be trained as “good wives and wise mothers” (ryōsai kenbo), whose contributions to society were best kept confined to the domestic realm. Though many women did in fact work outside the home at this time, such wage-earning labor was more often than not seen as a temporary prelude to marriage and motherhood, which was understood to be the natural and primary duty of Japanese women. Danjo kyōgakuron is thus both an argument for educational reform and a statement of feminist philosophy that challenged constructions of conventional gender roles, anticipating later works of liberal feminist theory such as Simone de Beauvoir’s The Second Sex.
This chapter will examine four fundamental aspects of Koizumi’s thinking about gender and education that highlight her contributions to prewar Japanese feminist thought. These four categories of analysis are: 1) her views on gender difference, 2) the relationship between femininity and motherhood, 3) the purpose of women’s education, and 4) her understanding of the term “equality of opportunity.” I will give particular attention to points of intersection and departure with other contemporary feminists and progressive educators. In the following discussion, I will demonstrate that while Koizumi’s advocacy of coeducation for (p.91) Japan in the 1930s was by no means unprecedented, her understanding of the nature and importance of coeducation was underwritten by a presumption of “equality” between the sexes that was radical for its time, and remarkable for its anticipation of Occupation-era debates on gender and education that transformed the postwar discursive landscape. Understanding Koizumi’s theories about sexual equality thus helps us to rethink histories of Japanese women during the 1930s that characterize them as compliant with the contemporary “good wife and wise mother” ideology of women’s roles.
In the preface to Danjo kyōgakuron, Koizumi lists four principles upon which her views on gender, as well as educational policy, are based: 1) the absolute equality of men and women as individuals; 2) the importance of distinguishing between men and women on the basis of physical and psychological difference; 3) the notion of equality between men and women as based on physical and psychological similarities; and 4) the importance of distinguishing between individual personalities (kosei) on the basis of individual (kojinteki) differences.4 Careful examination of these four principles shows that they echo the same tension between “equality”-and “difference”-based arguments that underlie many modern feminist debates. Should feminists argue for equality on the basis of the similarities they share with men as human beings, or should they instead insist on a “separate but equal” status based on the understanding that men and women can be fundamentally different from one another and yet nevertheless equal?
Koizumi’s answer to this dilemma is to privilege the value of the individual above and beyond the problem of difference or equality between the sexes. In other words, she argues that differences between individual members of the human species are far more salient than differences between men and women, in terms of their potential for intellectual growth and their ability to contribute meaningfully to society. In doing so, she effectively has to combat the presumption that individualism is fundamentally un-Japanese and anathema to the ideal of social harmony that was traditionally prized by Confucian cultures, including Japan, and more recently harnessed by the Japanese authorities for the project of modern nation-building.
(p.92) She manages this tightrope act by situating her arguments within, not in opposition to, this logic of social harmony. She argues that although many Japanese might assume the principles of individualism and social harmony would naturally conflict with one another, this is not necessarily the case:
To emphasize and display one’s individuality does not mean to stubbornly insist on antisocial or socially deviant behavior. It is not to emphasize development of an evidently deranged character that is far removed from the realm of everyday society. It is said that unusual genius is in some ways identical to madness. [It is true that] scholars and artists of extraordinary talent often deviate from the commonly accepted rules of behavior. However, that does not mean that conversely, genius is equivalent to perverse and deranged behavior. Also, this kind of deranged genius is exceedingly rare. Therefore, the aim of today’s education ultimately must be to create individuals with balanced characters who are able to cooperate with their fellow citizens. As it is often said, we live in an age that is based on the principles of social coexistence and harmony.5
What she offers, then, is the possibility of individualism harnessed in the service of society. According to Koizumi, the individual and society are not separable from one another but rather two sides of the same coin, such that development of one naturally entails the progress of the other.6
This focus on individual difference over gender difference not only contrasted with the contemporary societal focus on conformity and self-sacrifice for national goals, but also directly contradicted the underlying logic of education for women at that time, which was based on an assumption of fundamental difference between the sexes. As E. Patricia Tsurumi notes, “As early as 1877 … [Ministry of Education official] Nishimura Shigeki criticized [the notion of] identical primary school education for boys and girls. He argued that because the future work of men and women was different, after their earliest years at primary school, male and female pupils should be taught different subjects.”7 From 1879, the Japanese government began promoting gender-specific educational policies that by the end of the century would be articulated in terms of producing “good wives and wise mothers.”8 Furthermore, these policies (p.93) were promoted not only by government bureaucrats, but also by prominent female educators, who seized upon this ideology of conventional femininity as a means of legitimizing and ennobling women’s potential to contribute in gender-specific ways to nationalist goals.9
Femininity and Motherhood
While Koizumi is careful in Danjo kyōgakuron not to mount a wholesale attack on the prevailing ideology of “good wife, wise mother,”10 she nevertheless insists that, while this model of femininity may offer some women an important means of contributing to society, it should not be imposed on all women in a categorical fashion. She decries attempts by conservatives who would try to contain women within women’s space, whereby “intoning that women’s interests are in feminine things—the realm of the private, the maternal, the kitchen—they would stamp women’s foreheads with the fateful brand of ‘mother.’”11 Furthermore, she argues that “confining women’s activities to a sphere circumscribed by the maternal is tantamount to treating human women like female animals” and creates an “obstacle to human progress.”12 Finally, in a rather amusing play on the term “ryōsai kenbo” (good wife, wise mother), she acerbically notes that although contemporary education for women repeatedly insists on the importance of women’s responsibilities as wives and mothers, nothing is said to men about the need to behave as “ryōfu kenfu” (good husband, wise father).13 Her theoretical arguments against gender typing thus stress the values of equality and fairness, as well as the illogical proposition of reducing all women to a feminine stereotype rather than treating them as individuals.
While many prewar intellectuals, both male and female, wrote in support of the notion of “equality of the sexes,” most still ultimately assumed the appropriateness of conventionally gendered roles for men and women, based on Confucian assumptions of absolute difference between the sexes and the contemporary emphasis placed on motherhood as a defining aspect of femininity. When male writers during the Meiji period (1868–1912) discussed “equality,” for example, they were mainly concerned with relationships between husbands and wives within domestic space, not in the public sphere, and their own treatment of women in their private lives often failed to match their public pronouncements.14 Even progressive intellectuals like Ueki Emori, who argued for (p.94) equality of the sexes on the basis of natural rights, nevertheless based his discussion of women’s rights on the value of their contributions to society as wives and mothers.15 Furthermore, many prewar feminists also presumed motherhood to be a defining characteristic of feminine experience. For example, Hiratsuka Raichō, who challenged conventional stereotypes of femininity in many ways, nevertheless argued that women with children should be prohibited from working until their child turned five years of age, and that the state should protect women as mothers because of their contributions to the state as nurturers of future generations.16 Thus, Koizumi’s challenge to this logic of conventional femininity placed her in a distinct minority of opinion.
The Purpose of Education for Women
Gender-specific education prior to 1945 was of course intended to produce gender-specific outcomes, and here too Koizumi bucked “commonsense” notions of femininity by arguing that women should be afforded opportunities for personal and professional development beyond the conventional role of “good wives and wise mothers.” The problem with education for girls today, Koizumi says, is that it merely reinforces traditional notions of women’s roles, rather than nurturing girls’ dreams for the future or cultivating their interests.17 Present differences in professional outcomes for men and women are simply a reflection of the way they have been educated. She sees a future where women will make great strides into all sorts of professional activities; in her opinion, the day is near when “almost all” women will be both housewives and have occupations outside the home. Naturally this will require either an improvement in the conditions of household labor or the professionalization of it, but she “believes without a doubt” that in the future all types of housework will be professionalized and each individual will be able to choose their profession based on their own abilities and interests.18
Koizumi further argues for the practical utility of preparing women to support themselves financially, concluding that women must have financial independence in order to attain equality with men.19 She notes that the “good wife, wise mother” lifestyle is not possible for the vast numbers of women who must work to help support their families.20 She highlights the fact that the industrialized economy itself encourages (p.95) women to enter the workplace, with new factory jobs deliberately marketed to women because they can be paid less than men for doing the same work.21 Women’s current low status and lack of ability to support themselves is the direct result of the poor education that they have received to date, and this is why they are willing to engage in paid labor even for low wages if it offers them the opportunity for freedom, equal rights, and internal satisfaction.22 In making such arguments, she implies that the contemporary gendered division of labor is both unjust and impractical, and that providing women with equal opportunity in education and employment would benefit society as a whole, not merely individual women.
While Koizumi’s argument that education for women should prepare them for more than housework and motherhood was not entirely unprecedented, few had argued so forcefully that women should be offered professional opportunities on par with men. Even as women in the prewar period took strides toward financial self-sufficiency, most preferred to do so in occupations that were considered compatible with gendered expectations of women’s roles, as illustrated by the ikebana teachers discussed in Nancy Stalker’s chapter in this volume, as well as the seamstresses and sewing instructors profiled in the research of Andrew Gordon.23 By contrast, Koizumi argued that women should be given access to any occupation that matched their abilities and inclinations, including those positions conventionally assumed to be “masculine.”
Like socialist feminist Yamakawa Kikue,24 discussed in chapters by Elyssa Faison and Sarah Frederick in this volume, Koizumi made extensive use of social scientific evidence and theoretical argumentation to buttress her claims for gender equality. Koizumi’s doctoral training in educational psychology allowed her to counter the objections of opponents of coeducation by employing the kind of scientific language that at the time was monopolized primarily by male intellectuals. She employed a wealth of statistical data on employment and education, references to the latest Western scientific research on biological sex difference and childhood development, and social scientific research on educational theory and pedagogical practice to support her claims that not only were women as intellectually capable as men, but also that educating boys and girls together on equal terms had demonstrably beneficial effects on society.25
The purpose of education, then, according to Koizumi, is to provide equality of opportunity so that each individual can develop their talents to their fullest potential. This does not mean educating all students with the same curriculum, but rather tailoring the curriculum to the individual desires and abilities of each student, regardless of gender. She thus defines coeducation as “assembling male and female students in the same facility, dividing them appropriately on the basis of subject matter and individual character (kosei), and employing educational methods appropriate to their individual needs and the demands of society.”26 While she does not deny the need to “discriminate” between students, she advocates doing so on the basis of ability and inclination rather than gender.27
She also stresses the social benefits of this type of equality of opportunity, not merely because it would enable each individual to maximize their contribution to social progress, but also because it would promote “harmony” and “cooperation” between the sexes that is currently lacking. She insists that instructing students in social adaptation and cooperation must become an important objective of education. In her view, this necessarily entails educating men and women together so that they can develop mutual understanding based on actual experience of one another, rather than the kind of idealized notions of the opposite sex that inevitably result from isolating them from one another during their formative years.28
Unless all people are able to stand as resolute selves on the basis of equal status relative to one another as independent individuals, we cannot expect a properly harmonious society. … Men and women must be absolutely independent individuals in this sense. However, in our country the relative social status of men and women is far from this ideal. [Contemporary] education divides people into classes, and reinforces the boundaries between men and women. In particular, education for women subordinates them to men, rendering them inferior and incapable of attaining independence. Women have been raised to be weak, obedient, parasitic, and dependent playthings, and to see these qualities as virtuous. One important mission of today’s education is to cultivate men and women as future members of society by training (p.97) them as sound and healthy individuals based on a foundation of equality. I am proclaiming the necessity of coeducation as a means of fundamentally revolutionizing our conventional educational system, which is crippled and imperfect.29
The strident tone of Koizumi’s attack on women’s status as “weak” and “parasitic” creatures underscores not only the passion with which she defended coeducation as a moral good, but also the fact that her understanding of “equality of opportunity” necessarily included gender equality.
However, this definition of “equality of opportunity” set Koizumi’s arguments apart from those of other progressive educators of the time, many of whom were more concerned with addressing problems of class difference than gender discrimination. In 1937, Prime Minister Konoe Fumimaro established an Education Council (Kyōiku Shingikai) to make recommendations to the government for educational reform. While this council recommended establishing higher schools (kōtō gakkō) for women that would parallel existing schools for men, as a way of preparing more women to compete successfully for entrance to universities, most of those advocating this step nevertheless seem to have assumed that such higher school curricula would include substantial amounts of coursework in home economics. Debates concerning whether to establish universities for women similarly presumed their purpose to be gender-specific training in conventionally feminine subjects. Although some committee members took a different view, arguing that women should be offered the full range of educational opportunities extended to men, these voices did not carry the day, and the government declined to act on any of the proposed gender-equality measures.30 Koizumi’s claim that “equality of educational opportunity” must necessarily include gender parity was thus somewhat radical for its time, even within the context of progressive educational circles.
On the strength of publication of Danjo kyōgakuron, Koizumi helped to form the Coeducation Research Society (Danjo Kyōgaku Mondai Kenkyūkai), in cooperation with progressive educators like Noguchi Entarō, Ichikawa Genzō, Harada Minoru, Yasui Tetsuko, Kōra Tomiko, (p.98) and Fukushima Shirō. The group first met on April 13, 1932, and continued meeting periodically over the next several years. By the fourth meeting, on March 15, 1933, they were making plans to petition the Diet to consider coeducational reforms. The actual text of the petition was based on a document drafted by Koizumi, entitled “A Statement in Favor of Coeducation” (Danjo kyōgaku e no shuchō). While the petition was adopted by the lower house on March 25, 1933, it failed in the more conservative upper house. Subsequent attempts to persuade the Ministry of Education of the wisdom of coeducation were similarly unsuccessful.31
However, the specific changes to the law requested in the petition bear striking similarity to the coeducational reform initiatives promoted by Occupation staff during the negotiations leading up to the Fundamental Law of Education of 1947. Koizumi and her colleagues specifically advocated for repeal of the sections of the law governing elementary school education that mandated separate education of girls and boys. Additionally, they requested removal of other legal barriers to coeducation, including language from the Middle School Law (Chūgakkō rei) and Higher School Law (Kōtō gakkō rei) stipulating that these schools were designed for boys, so as to allow girls to enroll as well.32 They also advocated that the Girl’s Higher School Law (Kōtō jogakkō rei), which provided for separate education of girls beyond elementary school, be eliminated entirely, effectively creating one unified system of secondary education that would be open to both boys and girls. The petition also requested amendment of the requirements for admission to technical colleges (senmon gakkō), to allow women to enroll alongside men at this level.
Thus, the streamlined and coeducational system proposed by the Coeducation Research Society anticipated the wholesale overhaul of the Japanese educational system during the Occupation period in many respects. This suggests a need to rethink narratives of Occupation-era reform that characterize coeducation as a reform that was forced on the Japanese, and by implication alien to the values and expectations of Japanese society. It is clear that some progressive Japanese educational reformers advocated this system well in advance of Occupationera reforms. This research also suggests that we rethink the history of prewar Japanese feminism to include voices like Koizumi, whose vision of sexual equality was not qualified by efforts to work within the prevailing discourse of “good wife and wise mother.”
(p.99) According to some Japanese sources, shortly after the end of World War II Koizumi was called into the office of the Civil Information and Education section of Occupation headquarters by a female staff member.33 Upon arrival, she was confronted with an English-language translation of Danjo kyōgakuron, and asked if she was the author of the text. When she said yes, she was informed that the translation had been circulated among CI&E staff, who had concluded that coeducation should be promoted in Japan. Koizumi was thereupon offered a position as education advisor, which she turned down in order to focus on her duties as head of Obirin, the school that she and her husband were in the process of founding.
Although it is perhaps premature to conclude that Koizumi’s influence on Occupation policy was decisive, it is clear that Koizumi and the American Occupation authorities were in pursuit of similar goals for similar reasons. U.S. policy documents from the pre-surrender and early Occupation period consistently stress the values of equality, individuality, and freedom of thought and expression that underline Koizumi’s arguments for coeducation in Danjo kyōgakuron. While this may not be surprising given that Koizumi was herself educated partly in the United States, it is important to note that the bold future of equality of opportunity that Koizumi envisioned went well beyond what was available to American women at the time when she studied there. It is also important to note that while Koizumi’s arguments for coeducation likewise went further than the proposals of other prewar progressives, she was not alone in advocating “equality of educational opportunity” at that time. Rather, Koizumi was part of a wave of liberal intellectuals whose calls for educational reform were unable to penetrate the cordon of militaristic propaganda that surrounded them in the 1930s. Such progressives would have to wait for the opportunity provided them by defeat and Occupation to see their reform agenda enacted.
(1) According to Kimi Hara, “The percentage of girls within the appropriate age group entering upper secondary school (tenth through twelfth grade) doubled within a mere twenty-five-year period, from 47.4 percent in 1955 to 95 percent in 1979. Within the same period the percentage of young women studying at junior colleges increased eightfold and those in (p.100) four-year universities grew sixfold” (p. 104). See her chapter “Challenges to Education for Girls and Women,” in Japanese Women: New Feminist Perspectives on the Past, Present, and Future, ed. Kumiko Fujimura-Fanselow and Atsuko Kameda (New York: The Feminist Press, 1995).
(2) For a thorough biographical study of Koizumi, see Kurematsu Kaoru, Koizumi Ikuko no kenkyū: Obirin Daigaku Kokusaigaku Kenkyūjo kenkyū shirīzu 4 (Tokyo: Gakubunsha, 2000).
(3) The publication information at the back of Danjo kyōgakuron says it was printed on October 1 and issued on October 5, 1931. The Manchurian Incident took place September 18, 1931. As Tomoko Akami notes, the national discourse quickly deteriorated after this point into “jingoism” and militaristic rhetoric. The subsequent election of Prime Minister Inukai Tsuyoshi in February 1932 by an “electorate [that] supported aggression in China provid[ed] a mandate that encouraged Japan to embark on fullscale war in China in 1937 and the Pacific War against the United States and the Allied forces subsequently.” Akami further notes that Inukai’s assassination on May 15, 1932 “mark[ed] the beginning of the end of parliamentary democracy in pre-war Japan.” See Tomoko Akami, “When Democracy Is Not Enough: Japan’s Information Policy and Mass Politics in Diplomatic and Economic Crisis in the 1930s,” Asia–Pacific Journal 11, issue 15, no. 1 (April 15, 2013), http://japanfocus.org/-Tomoko-AKAMI/3926.
(4) Koizumi Ikuko, Danjo kyōgakuron (Tokyo: Nihon Tosho Sentā, 1984), 12. All translations from this text are my own.
(7) E. Patricia Tsurumi, “The State, Education, and Two Generations of Women in Meiji Japan, 1868–1912,” U.S.–Japan Women’s Journal, no. 18 (2000), 18.
(8) Hashimoto Noriko, Danjo kyōgakusei no shiteki kenkyū (Tokyo: Ōtsuki Shoten, 1992), 33–34.
(9) Sally A. Hastings profiles three such female educators in her article “Women Educators of the Meiji Era and the Making of Modern Japan,” The International Journal of Social Education: Official Journal of the Indiana Council for the Social Studies 6, no. 1 (Spring 1991). See also Margaret Mehl, “Women Educators and the Confucian Tradition in Meiji Japan (1868–1912): Miwada Masako and Atomi Kakei,” Women’s History Review 10, no. 4 (2001). Even prominent institutions of higher education for women during the prewar period, such as Tsuda English Academy and Japan Women’s University, were known for policing their students’ behavior to ensure conformity with conservative notions of femininity. (p.101) See for example Barbara Rose, Tsuda Umeko and Women’s Education in Japan (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992); and Ann M. Harrington, “Women and Higher Education in the Japanese Empire (1895–1945),” Journal of Asian History 21, no. 2 (1987).
(14) Hashimoto, Danjo kyōgakusei no shiteki kenkyū, 44–48. See also chapter 2 in Sharon L. Sievers, Flowers in Salt: The Beginnings of Feminist Consciousness in Modern Japan (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1983). For example, in spite of Mori Arinori’s famed signing of a “marriage contract” that bound both parties to “equality in marriage,” he bristled at the notion of legal equality for both sexes, clarifying his views in this way: “I indeed said that wives and husbands should be honored without distinction because they are on the same level. I absolutely did not touch on equal rights, however” (quoted in ibid., 21).
(15) Julia Adeney Thomas quotes Ueki as arguing for the value of women’s education as an instrument of nationalism: “Women are responsible for educating the household. If these women do not have patriotism, and do not think about politics, then they cannot awaken appropriate national sentiments in their children. … If mothers can raise their children in the national spirit it will bring great justice and benefits to all” (p. 155). See chapter 6 of her book Reconfiguring Modernity: Concepts of Nature in Japanese Political Ideology (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001).
(16) Hashimoto, Danjo kyōgakusei no shiteki kenkyū, 108. For a concise discussion in English of the debates surrounding “protection of motherhood” in the Taishō period, see Laurel Rasplica Rodd, “Yosano Akiko and the Taishō Debate over the ‘New Woman,’” in Recreating Japanese Women, 1600–1945, ed. Gail Lee Bernstein (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991).
(23) See Andrew Gordon, Fabricating Consumers: The Sewing Machine in Modern Japan (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2012).
(24) See E. Patricia Tsurumi, “Visions of Women and the New Society in Conflict: Yamakawa Kikue versus Takamure Itsue,” in Japan’s Competing (p.102) Modernities: Issues in Culture and Democracy, 1900–1930, ed. Sharon A. Minichiello (Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 1998), 347–348.
(25) References to Western scientific and educational theories permeate Danjo kyōgakuron. To offer just one example, in the course of a discussion of evolutionary theory in chapter 2 (“Kyōgaku kisoron”), Koizumi veers deeply into a rather technical analysis of genetic variation, including a sustained examination of eugenicist and statistician Karl Pearson’s employment of the “correlation coefficient” to analyze the degree of dependence between two variables (p. 55).
(30) Hans Martin Kramer, “The Prewar Roots of ‘Equality of Opportunity’: Japanese Educational Ideals in the Twentieth Century,” Monumenta Nipponica 61, no. 1 (Winter 2006). See pp. 538–539 for a discussion of attitudes toward college preparation for women.
(32) According to SCAP records, these same legal barriers to coeducation were specifically targeted by Occupation staff for elimination. See “Coeducation,” Folder 12 [“Co-Education—Staff Studies”], Box no. 5391, GHQ/SCAP Records (RG 331), National Archives and Records Service.
(33) See Hashimoto, Danjo kyōgakusei no shiteki kenkyū, 276; and Kurematsu, Koizumi Ikuko no kenkyū, 164–165. Both are relying on accounts of the incident by Shimizu Yasuzō, Koizumi’s husband. Hashimoto cites his memoir, Obirin monogatari, while Kurematsu relies on essays by Shimizu in Fukkatsu no Oka, the university magazine published by Obirin Daigaku (vols. 71 and 120).