Two Licensed Preschools in the Same Country, and Nothing About Them Matched
From age three, every child came in underwear. Toilet training progress was not a factor.
From age three, naps were discontinued. For everyone.
English drills, reading and writing drills. Swimming lessons in a 25-meter pool, complete with something resembling a report card.
That was our preschool in Osaka.
At our current preschool, after moving: diapers or underwear is tailored to each child’s readiness. If a child still needs a nap, they bring bedding.
Both are licensed preschools in the same country.
This is the article we needed back then.
The short version
- Two licensed preschools under the same national system. Almost nothing about their policies matched.
- The government has frameworks in place. But what actually shapes your child’s day is the adult in front of them.
- Which makes choosing a preschool partly a gamble — and you may not get your first choice anyway.
- International school wouldn’t remove that. And even preschool-level programs run ¥1M+ per year before subsidies.
- What a parent can do: decide what you won’t compromise on, and ask for a conversation when it’s crossed.
- One caveat: we’ve always lived in Japan. For a family arriving from abroad, the wall is considerably higher.
Where we’re standing, stated plainly
This series is about the walls international families run into in Japan.
But I want to be honest about something.
We are an international couple that has always lived in Japan.
I was born and raised here. I speak the language, I can read the forms, I can talk to the teachers directly.
For a family that was living abroad and then moves here, with children entering the school system — the problems are going to be substantially bigger than anything we faced. Language, paperwork, customs, unspoken norms. All at once.
So this isn’t a “we struggled too” piece. It’s a record of how differently two preschools in the same country can operate.
Same system. Not remotely the same place.
Here they are side by side. This isn’t a ranking. It’s just what was true.
The preschool in Osaka:
- From age three, all children in underwear (regardless of toilet training progress)
- From age three, naps discontinued for everyone
- English drills, reading and writing drills
- Swimming lessons in a 25-meter pool, with a report-card-style assessment
- A beautiful building, an unmistakable message about academic enrichment — and parents loved it
- The annual performance showcase received enormous institutional effort
- When a child was home with influenza, the teacher called the day before to check whether they’d be able to attend
Our current preschool:
- Diapers or underwear, based on where that child actually is
- Children who still need naps bring bedding
- A lot of animals on site. A lot of time outdoors
- In summer, water play in the school’s own yard
- The performance showcase has a separate makeup day for children who were absent
Same national framework. Same category of licensed facility.
The teacher said it first: “You can leave it.”
The thing that surprised me most after we moved was about school lunch.
Our son’s teacher volunteered this, before anyone asked:
“If there’s something you don’t like, you can leave it.”
When I was a child, the rule was finish everything. So part of this is Japan’s school lunch culture genuinely shifting.
But at the preschool in Osaka, nobody ever said that to us.
That isn’t policy. That was this school, and this teacher, making a personal call.
The day he couldn’t walk into the classroom
After a break, our younger son started crying again and couldn’t go into his classroom.
Here’s what his teacher did.
She took him to his older brother’s classroom and let the two of them spend the time together.
The next day, he went in like normal.
I don’t think that’s written in any manual. It certainly isn’t policy. The teacher who was standing there made a call.
And that was enough to get him through it.
The frameworks exist. The adult in the room decides.
Japan does have systems for children connected to other countries. To be accurate about it:
| Who | What they handle |
|---|---|
| National (MEXT) | Frameworks and budget. The “special curriculum” for Japanese-language instruction, and enrollment guidebooks in 8 languages |
| Prefectures / designated cities | Placement of school counselors and school social workers, plus the 24-hour children’s SOS hotline |
| Municipalities (boards of education) | Sending enrollment notices, tracking enrollment status, handling parent consultations |
| The school itself | The actual reception of your child. This part is entirely case by case |
Three things worth knowing:
- Enrollment information is supposed to come to you. Boards of education are directed to send enrollment notices based on resident registry data, with consideration for the languages families actually use. If nothing arrives, that’s your basis for asking.
- Foreign nationals can enroll in public compulsory education. Boards of education are directed to communicate that this is possible.
- The enrollment guidebook exists in 8 languages (English, Korean, Vietnamese, Filipino, Chinese, Portuguese, Spanish, Ukrainian). You can hand it directly to a family that just arrived.
And then the reality check.
Among children who need Japanese-language instruction, 59.1% receive it through the “special curriculum.” Which means roughly 40% don’t.
The framework exists. Whether it reaches the ground is a separate question.
(As of August 2026. Implementation varies by municipality — check with yours.)
What about international school? ¥1M a year, minimum.
“If it doesn’t fit, send them to an international school.” I’ve thought about it too.
So I looked it up.
- Immersion-style preschool programs: roughly ¥1,000,000–1,300,000/year
- Major international school preschools: roughly ¥1,900,000–3,000,000/year
- International schools generally: ¥1,500,000–3,000,000/year
Under Japan’s free early childhood education program, facilities registered as unlicensed childcare can qualify for up to ¥37,000/month (about ¥444,000/year) for children aged 3–5. But you need a childcare-need certification (meaning the parents are working, among other conditions), and meals, bus service, and facility fees aren’t covered.
Even at the low end, that’s ¥1M a year. With maximum subsidy, you’re still paying ¥550,000+ out of pocket.
That isn’t our financial situation.
And there’s something else I suspect: even at an international school, what actually shapes the child is still the adult who receives them.
(Costs are August 2026 market rates and vary enormously by school.)
So yes — it’s a gamble
Being direct about it.
Getting into any licensed childcare in Japan is difficult, and you often don’t get your first choice.
Which is why I think going in with very specific demands at this stage is a mistake. “We got a place” is a reasonable bar.
What matters more is whether you can make it work wherever you land.
That’s hard, because it requires a delicate negotiation. You have to advocate for your child. You also can’t overwhelm teachers with demands. Where that line sits is genuinely difficult.
Elementary school is a different conversation. Public school assignment follows your address, so where you live drives a great deal. But honestly, more than the school itself, I think the relationships around your family shape the experience.
Decide what you won’t compromise on
I have Japanese friends who work in preschools, kindergartens, and elementary schools.
Which is why I believe this: accommodating everyone’s values and arriving at a life everyone accepts is a genuinely hard problem.
“This school.” “This teacher.” Whether you accept or reject — that’s down to individual values too.
Within all of that, here’s what I think a parent can do.
Decide what you won’t compromise on.
And when something crosses that line, ask for a conversation. I’ve heard of families finding a way forward exactly that way.
At the same time: if your own child is genuinely causing a problem, you have to receive that honestly too.
With all of that said, one thing holds.
At the end of the day, the person ultimately in your child’s corner is you.
They act like kids now. But—
I’m very satisfied with where we are.
They respond to each child flexibly. Our boys run around, get hurt, and get into things the way children do.
It felt like they finally broke out of the “good kid” mold — and I loved seeing it.
But I can’t end it there.
They miss the preschool in Osaka.
They say they want to see their teacher. They want to see their friends.
Which tells me that for them, that place wasn’t bad at all.
So here’s where I actually land.
I might just be projecting my own values onto my kids.
P.S. This series covers the walls international families hit in Japan. Part one is on not being able to rent; part two is on wanting to work and not being able to. The night our older son cried about English is here.
Programs and costs are as of August 2026 and vary substantially by municipality and school. Please confirm current official information.
This is our personal experience. There’s no single right answer in raising or schooling kids.
Official references