At Home Abroad Ver 4
At Home Abroad Ver 4
Preface
Contents
Preface(1)
Introduction ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ 5
References ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・240
Introduction
workforce. By 2060, the Japanese government predicts that the population will
fall by almost one-third (Tabuchi, 2011, January 3). One means of mitigating
this shortfall is to accept more foreign workers. The main issue is how many.
At the conclusion of 2011, even after the Great Tohoku Earthquake on March
11th and a significant exodus of foreign people from the countr y in its
aftermath, non-Japanese still numbered about 2.07 million, or 1.6% of the entire
population (including 600,000 Koreans with special permanent resident status
who have mostly lived in Japan for generations but retained their Korean
nationality) (Japanese Ministry of Justice, 2012; Tabuchi). This amounts to a
50% jump in the non-Japanese population from one decade before, and nearly
twice as many as in 1990. Still, some observers believe these increases to be
small in comparison with future figures.
So Japan is changing rapidly. But admitting foreign workers into the
country is not the same as making them comfortable long term. According to
a survey conducted by the Fujitsu Research Institute in 2009 in approximately
800 Japanese companies, among those corporations which have hired highly-
skilled foreigners (such as engineers), almost 20% had suspended their
employment of non-Japanese ─ largely because of the language barrier and
culture clashes (Furuya & Oda, 2010, April 6). Numerous experts agree that
Japan is losing skilled talent across industries and also argue that ties between
immigrants and local communities are often weak (Tabuchi, 2011, January 3).
Therefore, the challenge for both Japanese and non-Japanese residents is to
create conditions where the foreign-born are accepted members of their work
organizations and communities. Such efforts have met with mixed success in
the past: while many non-Japanese have thrived in Japan, others have
experienced glass ceilings at work and frigid relations with their neighbors. If
Japan wants to retain its foreign-born workforce and to attract top talent, it is
critical that non-Japanese be admitted as legitimate members of Japanese
society and for them to have hope that they can enjoy the rewards of such
membership ─ namely, financially-secure and socially-stable lives.
Many foreigners in Japan, particularly Westerners, are on the receiving
end of guest treatment by Japanese people that they typically find welcoming
and respectful but also alienating when interminable ─ for a guest is an
elevated, removed, and ultimately temporary position in any group. In Chapter
Introduction 7
4, Robin Sakamoto describes why she chose to extend her stay in Japan after
the first two years: “I finally felt like I could contribute, so I decided to stay. . . .
I wasnʼt just receiving anymore. I could finally respond and give back.”
Similarly, many foreigners who choose to settle in Japan do not just want to be
treated permanently like guests and kept at a distance. They want to be
involved in their communities and work organizations. And it is essential that
foreigners and Japanese try to create such conditions together, as these goals
cannot be achieved through the efforts of one side alone.
In this book, Westerners living in Japan for 14 to 55 years offer their views
about how Japanʼs acceptance of them has evolved during their time here.
They agree that both Western residents and the Japanese themselves have
changed largely for the better. Following World War II, when some of the
inter viewees first ar rived in Japan, the Wester ner emblazoned most
prominently in the minds of many Japanese was General Douglas MacArthur.
As the head of the U.S. Occupation Forces, his imperious manner and
privileged lifestyle ser ved as a prototype for not only how Americans and
people from other Western countries were perceived by the Japanese but also
how to treat them while they lived here. MacArthur led a cloistered existence
during the Occupation, living in grand quarters and seeing only a short stretch
of the streets of Tokyo on his daily commute between his residence and nearby
of fice. In other words, he lived both among, yet separately from, the
“conquered.” This insulated, cosseted lifestyle was not unique. According to
John Dower (1999):
The ramifications of [MacArthurʼs] viceroy role extended beyond policy
making per se, for the huge army of the Occupation . . . constituted a
privileged caste, class, and race. They made up a “little America” in Japan,
literally so in downtown Tokyo; and they practiced clear-cut segregation.
(p. 206)
This lasting image shaped American-Japanese, and by extension,
Westerner-Japanese interpersonal and intergroup interactions for decades. In
many ways, the effects linger: Westerners were, and in many cases still are,
seen as temporary, albeit esteemed guests whose culture and language should
be accommodated whenever possible. Many Japanese equate Westerners with
English and feel obligated to speak it to them ─ even if they lack confidence in
8
their own proficiency. In addition, they often expect Westerners to eat food
mainly from their native countries, sleep in beds instead of Japanese futons,
use chopsticks clumsily if at all, and be generally unwilling or unable to adjust
to the fixtures and rhythms of a typical Japanese lifestyle. MacArthurʼs legacy
is that his privilege has been reproduced, albeit on a lesser scale, for decades ─
both by the Japanese who extend guest treatment and by the Westerners who
grow reliant upon it.
Japanese and Westerners took an unsuspecting step towards freeing
themselves from this dynamic when the Japanese government established the
Japan Exchange and Teaching (“JET”) Program in 1987. The primary goals
were to promote the acceptance of cultural diversity among Japanese and to
bolster Japanese citizensʼ oral English proficiency to better compete in the
global marketplace. Today, over 90% of the JET Program participants are from
Western countries, and approximately 90% are employed as Assistant Language
Teachers (“ALTs”) of English (CLAIR, 2012) who happen to work in one of
Japanʼs most sacred institutions ─ schools. Since its inception, over 54,000 JET
Program participants (CLAIR, 2010) have helped to shape Japanese childrenʼs
images of non-Japanese. Primary and secondary school students all over the
country have learned to feel more at ease with non-Japanese people than their
parents, as they regularly see ALTs in their classrooms and living in their
neighborhoods. The narrow sphere of Japanese-Westerner contact from the
days of the Occupation has been peacefully annihilated.
The JET Programʼs growth coincides with Japanʼs ascendance as an
economic juggernaut. Tokyoʼs allure as the financial center of the worldʼs now
third largest economy has helped to attract droves of Westerners to work
throughout the country in both foreign and Japanese companies. In addition,
Japanese manga (“comics”) and anime (“animated films”), among other
cultural exports, have recently lured cultural buffs to Japan in the same way
that Buddhism did in the 1970s. This confluence of teachers, business people,
and cultural connoisseurs flocking to Japan has led to a substantial increase in
Western residents, with the current population being about 130,000 (Japanese
Ministry of Justice, 2012; Maciamo, 2005, July 31). While some have returned
home after brief sojourns, others have stayed, met life par tners (usually
Japanese), and settled here. These Western residents commonly work side by
Introduction 9
themselves much closer to the heart of Japan. Some have even taken the step
of adopting Japanese citizenship. Others have maintained their original
nationality but spent decades of their lives here ─ finding their identities
transformed in the process. This book is about these people ─ Westerners
who have followed in the footsteps of Lafcadio Hearn and entered the very
fabric of Japanese daily life. Although they have sometimes faced ignorance
among Japanese who assume that Westerners cannot understand or adjust to
Japan, or discrimination in which they were denied the benefits of membership
in Japanese society and/or work organizations, these Westerners have also
enjoyed remarkable personal growth and professional rewards.
Thus, the interviews in this book illustrate success stories of people who
have learned what it takes to belong and thrive among the Japanese. They
have integrated into their communities and excelled in their professions ─ one
reason being that they learned the cultural code of Japanese “common sense”
for how to interact in a multitude of social and work situations ─ what is known
as “intercultural communicative competence.” In other words, they can
interact capably with the Japanese people because they are aware of prevalent
Japanese values, norms, and behaviors, and they have the acquired skills to
deal effectively with these differences (Hismanoglu, 2011). With extraordinary
cultural bridging skills, they feel camaraderie with the Japanese because they
share a similar set of daily experiences, a country of residence, and a cognitive
framework for understanding and navigating their daily interpersonal
interactions. In their interviews, they share insights into how they have come
to belong in Japan and what others can do to achieve the same.
This does not mean, however, that they are content with every aspect of
their lives. Many show a hunger for change after experiencing hardships
arising from being cast as legal and/or social outsiders. In these pages, they
present their visions for how Japan can move towards being a more open,
supportive society for everyone ─ one that maximizes the potential of those
who choose to build a life here. They also recount how Japan has changed
them ─ galvanizing their personal and professional growth in ways they never
could have foreseen.
Introduction 11
Caveats: The subjects of this book and words used to describe them
This book focuses upon the perspectives and experiences of Westerners in
Japan. But people come to Japan from many nations, and they are not always
received the same way. Those from affluent English-speaking countries (most
commonly the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, and Australia) are
often treated as privileged guests with a certain degree of deference (known as
“okyakusama atsukai”). Skin color may also factor in this; over the past 22
years, I have observed that Caucasians receive special guest treatment most
frequently, while people of African or Asian descent (or others who are visibly
nonwhite) ─ even if they come from Western countries ─ may experience
okyakusama atsukai at times but at others feel marginalized because of their
nonwhite appearances.
Therefore, I will not presume to address the experiences of Korean
permanent residents of Japan or people from developing countries. While I
would have liked to explore their levels of acceptance in Japan, I quickly
realized that both deserve to have entire books written about their experiences,
which are in many ways qualitatively different from non-Japanese who have
moved here by their own volition from affluent nations. Also, the fact that 9 out
of the 12 interview subjects in this book originate from the U.S. is a limitation
(although four of them are now Japanese nationals, bringing those who are
currently American to five). I have tried to counter this by tapping into other
types of diversity among the interviewees in terms of ethnicity, profession, and
gender.
A final pair of caveats relates to the group of people being researched in
this book and the words used to describe them. My focus is current or former
citizens of Western countries. National culture, as well as socioeconomic class,
racial appearance, gender, and other characteristics dif ferently influence
personal experiences, but the inter viewees all share a Western cultural
heritage and often find themselves treated similarly by Japanese because of
that background. That is why many non-Japanese residents of Japan agree that
there is a common “Western experience” which needs to be explored and
articulated. My goal is to do so in this book ─ while also acknowledging the
heterogeneity of people of Western origin in Japan.
12
The interviewees
The subjects in these pages have each been chosen for their contributions to
Japan as well as how they have influenced the public discourse about what it
means to be a Western person living in Japanese society. In other words, they
have pushed the boundaries of what foreigners understand about Japanese
culture as well as what they can accomplish here, and in the process, they have
changed the minds of both non-Japanese and Japanese about what is possible
on both fronts.
The interviewees featured in the first twelve chapters hail from a variety of
fields. They include professors, television entertainers, authors, corporate
presidents, diversity trainers, political activists, and civil servants. Having lived
in Japan for decades, they understand how Japanʼs acceptance of Westerners
has evolved and also possess clear visions of how they hope such acceptance
will progress in the future.
Chapters 13 and 14 comprise a synopsis of the bookʼs main themes. By
utilizing quotes from dif ferent inter views, responses are of fered to nine
questions that reveal Westernersʼ current states of belonging, how they would
like Japan to change, and the keys to their success in building positive relations
with their Japanese neighbors and coworkers. By culling insights from all of
the inter viewees on these issues, a detailed picture emerges of Japanʼs
surprisingly rich multicultural present, as well as a compelling vision for how
to promote a thriving coexistence as such diversity grows in the future.
In the final chapter, a difficult comprehensive question is addressed:
“What makes the interviewees content in their intercultural relationships with
Japanese people?” Naturally, there are myriad answers possible, but one
concept ─ that of acculturation strategies ─ can help us to understand why
Westerners experience different levels of satisfaction in their intercultural
relationships with the Japanese (and vice versa). Through this discussion, the
reader can better her or his sense of belonging in Japanese groups ─ whether
in the workplace, neighborhood, or society in general.
Notes:
1. In the forthcoming inter views, translations of Japanese words and phrases are
14
provided in parentheses. The words are enclosed in quotation marks when the author
inserted these English equivalents into the text, but quotation marks are omitted when
the translations were provided by the inter viewees themselves. English equivalents
appear only when a Japanese word first appears in this book; afterwards, readers should
refer to the glossary of terms at the end of the book.
2. The last three chapters include my interpretations and analysis of the interviews. If I
have misrepresented any of the subjectsʼ ideas, experiences, or opinions, then I apologize
for such inadvertent errors.
15
Chapter One
Donald Keene
DK: Iʼm now 87, so Iʼve lived in Japan for close to 40 years of my life, but not
continuously. One of the reasons why I first decided to spend most of my time
in Japan was that while I was teaching at Columbia, I had many duties ─ to
look after students, read their papers, and so on. When I was starting to write
a history of Japanese literature, I realized I needed more time to myself. The
provost of the university proposed that I teach half the year in New York and
work the rest of the year on my history of Japanese literature. Things went on
that way for some years.
Then something occurred which I didnʼt really expect ─ I became
somewhat famous in Japan. This was flattering, but it meant that I was
compelled to give many lectures. The curious thing that happened was that I
found I had more time to myself in New York than I have here. Here, every
day there are people who have some reason to want me to do something.
Many of them I canʼt refuse ─ because in the past they helped when I needed it
or because I like them very much.
AK: After all of this time here, what do you like most about Japan and the
Japanese people?
DK: The two are ver y closely associated in my mind. Iʼve had ver y close
friends in Japan, or even people who were not that close, who could always be
counted on. They went out of their way to make sure that I was happy or
working well. This was very touching. I have American friends of course, but
almost none of them would do that. Itʼs in large part because Iʼm not in the U.S.
for such a large part of the year. People may forget which half of the year that
Iʼm there. So in a sense, my closest friends have become my Japanese friends.
My American friends are precious to me, but in terms of my life these days,
Japan is closer.
AK: How do you think that Japan has changed while youʼve been here?
DK: Itʼs changed in many ways. I was here for one week in 1945, but that was
Chapter One: Donald Keene 17
a strange experience that I couldnʼt relate to my later life. I began to live here
in 1953 when I was in Kyoto for two years. At that time, I think that the
Japanese were still under a defeated-nation mentality. They thought that
everything in America was probably better, and theyʼd say, “You must have
trouble eating Japanese food.” Theyʼd be surprised if I ate it without vomiting.
Because they assumed that everything would be better in America, they were
puzzled why I would want to be in Japan. I wrote at that time a piece in which I
described my experiences aboard a train. A person who I had never met
before would start a conversation by saying, “I suppose these trains are not as
fast as the American trains” or “Iʼm sure these are much dirtier than the
American trains.”
That sort of thing went on for some time, but this has stopped. The
Japanese now have accepted the fact that their standard of living is high and
that you can eat extremely well in Tokyo. If you donʼt like Japanese food then
you can get French food that is as good as it is in Paris. They feel that they
have come a long way.
This shows itself even in personal contacts. I remember the first time that
I went to my publisherʼs office. People were stunned by my presence there.
They all stood up, and they were immobile as if I were a general reviewing the
troops. Nowadays, I could walk into the same kind of office and no one would
pay me the least attention ─ unless there was some reason to talk to me.
Things have changed enormously.
DK: Itʼs positive ─ absolutely. Itʼs very uncomfortable to feel that people think
of you as superior or that people think that you have a lot more money than
they ─ that you live in a marvelous house, like the kind you see in Hollywood
movies. Now we are interacting as equals. You canʼt be friendly with someone
who is constantly worshipping you.
DK: I think it has. In my own case, itʼs been much easier than it has for most
18
people. For one thing, Iʼm short. Now, Iʼm shorter than most Japanese young
people. At first, I was taller than most Japanese people, and the difference is
very apparent if I go to a Japanese inn. When I was first living in Japan, they
would give me the extra large yukata (“a cotton kimono used after bathing or
for summer wear”). After about 10 years, I received large yukatas, and I now
get the medium. Either Iʼve become much smaller than I was, or the Japanese
have become bigger. Because I didnʼt stand out as much as someone who is
taller, it made things easier.
It was also easier for me because I made a ver y close Japanese friend
about one month after I first arrived in Kyoto. We lived in adjoining buildings,
and one day, the landlady said that she was having company and would I mind
having dinner together. I was not sure I wanted to because he had just come
back from America. I was afraid that he was going to tell me about his big car
in America ─ things of that sort. He had heard that I was studying Japanese
literature, and he was afraid if he met me that I would ask him all kinds of
difficult questions about Japanese literature that he couldnʼt answer. But we
met and became instantaneous friends. He remained such a friend until his
death. He introduced me to his close friend who was in Tokyo. I went to see
the friend, we got to know each other, and he asked me if there was anyone
who I would like to meet. And eventually I met everyone who I wanted to.
Some of the people were writers and became real friends. It would have been
much more difficult if I had tried to do this on my own.
DK: There are ─ especially in a place like Kyoto where people are ver y
conscious of their families and where they come from. My friend, a Kyoto
University professor, was a graduate of Kyoto University, but his high school
was not in Kyoto. This counted against him at Kyoto University. They thought
of him as a Tokyo person because heʼd gone to a Tokyo high school. If by
chance he had dinner with someone from Tokyo, his colleagues at the
university would ask, “What are you, a Tokyo faction?”
It is the kind of thing that could happen between Japanese in a place like
Kyoto, but a foreigner is completely outside of it. Family, background, money ─
Chapter One: Donald Keene 19
AK: So you had an ability to move between groups that the Japanese didnʼt?
DK: Yes, it was really quite apparent. I got to know the novelist Tanizaki in
Kyoto. He was known for his dislike of visitors. Nevertheless, I visited him at
his invitation and had dinner with him on a number of occasions. But when I
mentioned to him a contemporary Japanese writer, he was not in the least bit
interested. The Japanese writer would undoubtedly have had a lot more to talk
about with him than I. They shared many things. But because of my special
qualification of being a foreigner, I was invited to dinner and he wasnʼt.
DK: There is a body of Japanese who simply canʼt accept the fact that
foreigners learn Japanese. I remember being introduced before a lecture as
someone who knew more about Japanese literature than the Japanese. During
the lecture, I wrote something in Japanese on the blackboard, and there was a
gasp in the audience. They were stunned I could write Japanese. Now if you
think about that for five minutes, how could anyone know more about Japanese
literature than the Japanese if he didnʼt know any Japanese?
I was once a judge of a literary prize. I met the woman who had won the
prize at a party afterwards. She told me, “When I heard that an American was
going to be a member of the jury, I thought that I didnʼt have a chance.” The
reason was that sheʼd written a novel about the bombing in Nagasaki. She
thought that Americans loved the atomic bomb and that her adverse comments
would rule her out. But then she said something which really shocked me: “I
suppose that you read all of the books in translation.” If sheʼd thought about it,
then that would mean translations of 11 books just for my sake and that Iʼd be
judging the contest based on translations instead of the originals. I was
stunned by that. That kind of thing does happen, but fortunately, it happens
less and less. Or maybe I just stay away from those people. (laughs)
20
AK: How did you get your Japanese to the point where you could read classical
Japanese texts? Do you have any advice to language learners?
DK: There are two ways. One is to have a thorough grounding in a class in
classical Japanese ─ to be given drills about what forms of the verb to use after
which particle and so on. The other way is to read as much as you can even if
you donʼt fully understand it ─ becoming familiar with the way things are said
even if there are points where you might be mistaken. I chose the latter
course. It wasnʼt a very conscious choice. It was because at that time, nobody
was teaching classical Japanese in the entire United States. My teacher at
Columbia, Tsunoda Ryusaku, dropped us in the lake and said, “Swim!” So we
read The Tale of Genji, parts of The Pillow Book, and Noh plays ─ all of this at
what now would seem like breakneck speed. For me, it was the ideal way to
get a feeling for Japanese literature, although Tsunoda sensei never gave us
any instruction on the rules of classical Japanese.
At present, my colleague at Columbia, Mr. Shirane, gives a course in
classical Japanese and has written a book on classical Japanese grammar. He
is now working on a dictionar y of words used in the classical language.
Students studying classical Japanese can learn with this help, preferably by
combining it with the other method that I mentioned ─ reading as much as
possible.
AK: I recall in your autobiography that you described other Japanese people
who had trouble believing that you could read Japanese. For example, if they
presented their meishi (“name card”) to you and you could read it, then they
were surprised. But you also mentioned that now, as youʼve gotten older, you
tend to look upon these types of incidents more often with a smile. What has
changed in how you perceive these situations?
DK: It used to be irritating and even painful when someone went through the
trouble of writing his name in Roman letters next to the characters so I could
read “Tanaka” or some other common name. It showed an inability to
recognize that a non-Japanese could learn the language. This even happens
now, occasionally. Someone will turn over his card to show me the Roman
Chapter One: Donald Keene 21
AK: So at this point, the notion that a Westerner canʼt learn Japanese doesnʼt
bother you as much?
DK: Well, itʼs not pleasant, but it doesnʼt bother me as much. Now, I sometimes
have the opposite problem. People ask me, “Why donʼt you write your books
in Japanese instead of English? Why even use a translator? You could do it
perfectly well yourself.” Well, I suppose I could, but it would take me a lot
longer. Moreover, while I could write a book that was grammatically accurate,
it would not have the fluidity of a Japanese person writing the same text. My
book would lack many expressions that the Japanese use and which I
understand, but never use myself. I have a translator that Iʼve used for a long
time. Heʼs not only a good translator, but very conscientious. He insists that I
read over his translations and tell him any time that I can find anything which
doesnʼt seem to mean exactly what I want to say.
AK: Do you feel like non-Japanese are accepted in Japan as leaders of your
field ─ in terms of being experts in Japanese literature?
is not in their field. For example, they might learn about Emperor Meiji from
my book if their field is totally different. To reach someone whose field was
Emperor Meiji ─ for them to say that theyʼve never read anything like what I
wrote about him ─ that would be a great compliment. But I havenʼt heard that
yet. (laughs)
DK: First, he must learn the Japanese language and speak it fluently in order
to be able to communicate. If he canʼt do that, he should not be offended or
hurt if he is not invited to parties. The Japanese would have to stumble
through their English to talk to him. It would take all of the fun out of the
party if they had to translate everything that they wanted to say into English
for the benefit of one or two foreigners. This is with the exception of Japanese
who are able to speak English professionally. Most Japanese do not enjoy
having to communicate in English. Even if your Japanese is faulty, the fact that
you are trying to express yourself in their language impresses people.
Some non-Japanese can order a meal but never read a thing or learned
politer ways of saying things. I think theyʼve mostly disappeared or should
disappear. They might still be around in the diplomatic corps whose members
are certain to be here for, say, five years, but make no effort to learn the
language or the culture. They cannot hope to be popular. I once talked with a
retiring ambassador from a cer tain European countr y. He described a
“terrible” experience that heʼd had. He went to Hakone and stayed at an inn.
He got there, and to his amazement, there was not a single chair in the room.
Then he found out that he was expected to sleep on the floor! This man had
been here for five years. Did he never go to a Japanese inn before that? He
felt horror that the Japanese would put up an ambassador at such a place.
AK: How would you say that the non-Japanese who come to Japan have
changed during the time that youʼve been here ─ besides the fact that they
seem to know more about Japan?
Chapter One: Donald Keene 23
DK: A lot of them have come here young ─ some of them were born here.
Some of them grew up in Japan and went to Japanese schools, or if not to
Japanese schools, nevertheless had many Japanese friends with whom they
played. They speak Japanese. They are accustomed to eating Japanese food.
There are others who came here after they graduated from college to work in
some provincial office. They had no one to speak to in English, so they became
adept at it.
There still is a hard core of resistance to Japanese culture among
foreigners living in say, Minato-ku (“an upscale ward of Tokyo frequently
inhabited by expatriate, wealthy non-Japanese”). All of their friends are non-
Japanese ─ with the exception of a few Japanese who speak English fluently.
They live in houses which are completely Western in every detail. They read
the English newspaper, The Japan Times, and they know who danced with
whom the night before. They are still living in a colony. But I think that colony
has grown much smaller than ever before and has been penetrated by new
people who want to learn about Japan.
If you read about Yokohama in 1910, it would have been a very strange
family that thought it was a good idea to let their son or daughter go to a
Japanese school and learn anything about Japan. They would never think in
terms of living here indefinitely. They would think, “When we finish our exile
here, we will go to a decent place.”
DK: There are some people who can only live here. They are happy in their
work here, and if they went back to their country, theyʼd have difficulty getting
as good a job. Foreign teachers are pleased with the respect that they get ─
even though they havenʼt published anything. Whereas in America, theyʼd
have to publish. There are people who decide that they are going to stay here.
Some of them have done it successfully because there are universities now
where a large part of the teaching is done in English. Itʼs not necessary to give
lectures in Japanese. So things have changed. There are more people now
who think of Japan as home than before.
24
AK: Has there been any aspect of living in Japan that has been particularly
challenging to adjust to?
DK: There are some things that I could never quite get accustomed to in Japan ─
no matter how long I live here. For example, I donʼt remember that every time
I leave the house I must have a meishi with me. And without that, I donʼt exist.
People give me theirs, and I have nothing to give them. It would be perfectly
simple if I had been raised to have a gong that would ring every time I went out
of the house and ask, “Have you got your meishi with you?” That sort of thing
which is so natural to a Japanese ─ they always have a meishi and donʼt even
think about it ─ I havenʼt fully acquired.
A source of irritation is temporary ─ the way I might feel towards anybody
in any country ─ not necessarily just in Japan. With that said, I donʼt really like
it when Japanese come early for an engagement. If I have a quarter of an hour
before they come, Iʼll clean up the room. Then somebody comes early! Thatʼs
a tradition that goes back a long time. One reads in the memoirs of a Victorian
Englishman in Japan, “I had not expected such an early pleasure.”
But on the whole, Japanese people are very easy to get along with. I find
the young people today so much like Americans that I donʼt need to think
about the differences anymore. My impression is that they are much bolder
than Japanese used to be. The enryo (“self-restraint, reserve, or hesitation,
particularly when expressing oneʼs preferences or needs”) that used to be such
a vital part of Japanese culture has diminished. I wrote an article a couple of
years ago saying that I was a master of enryo ─ one of the few left. I remember
a Japanese friend of mine was going with his wife and child to Hawaii, and he
asked, “Do you have any friends there?” I gave him the name of a friend of
mine. Once he arrived, he telephoned the friend and said, “Would you mind if
my family stayed at your house?” The older generation could never do that,
but this is a new, enlightened, and liberated generation.
AK: Do you think that Japanese people have changed a lot since you first came
here in terms of how they view Americans?
AK: Was there a particular time when you thought anti-American sentiment
was stronger than others?
DK: Yes, the tenth anniversary of the October, 1951, signing of the Japanese-
American Security Pact. I remember getting on a crowded street car in Kyoto,
sitting down, and realizing that the seats on my left and right were empty. And
people were standing around me. It may have just been a coincidence, but I
didnʼt think so at the time. There was a feeling of anger and hatred for then-
Prime Minister Kishi. Even very aristocratic people would say they couldnʼt
stand him. That was part of the ramifications of the anti-Americanism.
DK: The first decoration that I won did ─ called the Kikuchi Kan Prize. I wasnʼt
expecting it, and it came to me at a time when my mother had just died. I
learned of her death in New York, and I heard on the same day that I had won
this prize. I went back to Japan and met the judges, who praised me. The prize
was awarded to me as someone who had made Japanese literature better
known. It should have gone to Arthur Waley, who was my inspiration as well
as a great translator and learned man. But I felt at that moment when I met the
judges that I had been recognized in a special way. Since then, Iʼve been given
far too many prizes. I am deeply grateful for each. But nothing can have the
effect of the first time.
AK: What do you think it is about your work that resonates with Japanese
people?
DK: Two things, I suppose. First, I have been translating a lot. People know
about these works, and they are pleased. I think the second part is that I have
written a lot in Japanese, or books that were translated into Japanese, about my
impressions of Japan, my feelings about Japan, my criticisms of Japan. And
these books have sold conspicuously better than the same books in English.
Of course, the Japanese are more interested in Japan than Americans. Because
of this, the Japanese know my name and sometimes comically so. They will
26
say, “It was because of you that Kawabata won the Nobel Prize.” Well, really
no, but . . . (laughs)
AK: So you helped to spread knowledge about Japan around the world?
DK: Yes, and I think that the most important thing in that respect was my
Anthology of Japanese Literature, which came out in 1955. I shouldnʼt say this,
but this was the beginning of the introduction of Japanese literature as part of a
general education in the United States. Up until that time, people who thought
that they were getting a general education learned nothing whatsoever about
Asian literature. They were suddenly confronted with a literature that
commanded respect. Innumerable people have told me that the anthology
made them interested in Japan for the first time and eventually made them into
Japan scholars.
AK: What do you think is hardest about translating Japanese literature into
English?
DK: The first challenge of translation is to write English which is appealing and
elegant that people will read for pleasure and not simply for information. This
is something that comes from your general culture ─ what youʼve studied up
until then, what youʼve read. And it canʼt be taught in a simple lesson. It has to
be done over a period of time after youʼve read a lot of books.
The second point is knowing a language well ─ the Japanese language.
And then you must be able to translate it into a text which, while in some ways
dif ferent from what you would expect in a Western book, is completely
intelligible and makes the reader feel that they understand the characters
depicted in the book. It is not simply setting down a series of words which are
accurate as translations but mean nothing to readers. That was the problem
with translating The Tale of Genji. A Japanese scholar did so in the Meiji
Period in the 1880s. Some Japanese today insist that this is the most accurate
English translation. Maybe it is. It just happens to be unreadable.
27
Chapter Two
Patrick Harlan
Patrick Harlan, perhaps better known by his stage name, “Pakkun,” is one of the
most prominent Western enter tainers in Japan and a regular on Japanese
television. He is the co-host of the popular TV program “Eigo de Shabera Night,”
and as a member of the comic duo “Pakkun Makkun,” Mr. Harlan is an award-
winning performer of manzai, a traditional style of two-person standup comedy.
Harvard-educated, Mr. Harlan is wickedly smart and perceptive. He is also one
of the few people who are equally entertaining in Japanese and English ─ not only
because of his impressive proficiency in Japanese but also his ability to translate
his humor into a Japanese cultural context. Here, he shares his perspective on
both the rewards and limits of his being accepted in Japanese society and the
entertainment world.
Adam Komisarof: When I heard you speak at a Harvard Club event in Tokyo,
what really impressed me is that you were very funny in English. I had seen
you on TV doing comedy in Japanese, but many entertainers are successful
working in only one language. How did you reach the point where you could
be funny in both?
Patrick Harlan: Well, I think that I started out being funny in both. No, I take
that back. I started out being funny in neither. So I tried to be funny for a long
time. But what it takes to be funny consistently now, is just . . . fifteen years of
practice. I didn’t start out aiming to become a professional comedian, but an
actor. In order to improve my acting skills, I decided to learn Japanese
comedy, but I had never seen a manzai show. Iʼd just sit in the audience and
soak up the material ─ absorb the patterns, ideas, word play, and the cultural
references. It takes a long time to figure out what is funny. There are some
28
words or references which are naturally funny: a kumquat is a funny food, but
lettuce is not.
I didnʼt steal the material per se, but just learned the patterns. I think it
was Milton Berle who was famous for borrowing other peopleʼs material. He
was talking about another comedian’s act and said, “I laughed so hard that I
almost dropped my pencil.” I wasnʼt doing exactly the same thing, but I would
go to shows with my comedy partner and ask, “Why is that funny?” Or Iʼd say,
“Explain that joke to me.” I was so persistent that I ruined the entire show for
him, but it was a great learning experience for me.
We started performing about half a year after we teamed up. When weʼd
do our written material, it would be fairly funny, but when we did our ad-lib
material, it was inevitably a disaster. You could hear crickets. It took us about
half a year for us to be funny with written material, but it took another five until
we were moderately funny with impromptu material. It took another five from
then to be funny in almost every situation─ where you could put me on a show
and say todayʼs topic is “liposuction” or “anal bleeding” and I could be funny. I
definitely couldnʼt have done that a few years ago. And I mean, not just funny,
but funny within the bounds of what you can do on TV.
AK: How did you improve your Japanese to where you could speak fluently
enough to accomplish this?
PH: The first couple of years, I studied pretty hard. I never took a class ─ just
got the maximum study benefit possible out of each conversation. Iʼd go out
drinking and sit down and talk with the guy next to me. Heʼd say, “Where are
you from?”
And Iʼd say, “Iʼm from America. Where are you from?”
“Japan.”
Duh. So then weʼd start a conversation. Iʼd keep stopping him and writing
down on a napkin, my hand, or a notebook every word or phrase I didnʼt know.
Then Iʼd memorize everything. It cost me nothing. It just cost a lot of innocent
Japanese people a bit of their free time.
PH: I started learning the Chinese characters about half a year after coming
and studied hard for the first two years. I passed the top level of the Japanese
Proficiency Test two years after I got here. Then, I thought that I didnʼt need
to study anymore. I was wrong. To be competent on TV, I have to read at a
much higher level. I have to be much more familiar with background cultural
information. So I study harder now than I probably did for the first five years
of my entertainment career ─ because I now know that I need to keep getting
better.
AK: Why do you stay in Japan as opposed to moving back to America to pursue
a career in comedy and acting?
PH: I first came to Japan with my best friend from junior high school in August,
1993. After two years, he went back, but I was thinking, “Iʼve just scratched the
surface of Japanese language and culture. If I leave now, all of this will go to
waste.” Sure, I could have gone back to America and been a businessman, or
maybe even made it as an actor or a comedian. But I have a skill here which
the competition does not. There arenʼt that many talented Westerners who
speak Japanese like I do. And there are very few Japanese who are funny and
marketable and also happen to be Westerners. I thought that I could work in
America as a waiter for $6 an hour, or I could work as a model in Tokyo and
make a lot more while pursuing my acting career.
Because Iʼm such a cheapskate, I canʼt give up the good things that I have.
Iʼve found my metaphorical gilded cage. I donʼt make a lot of money by
American entertainer standards ─ probably several decimal places away. But I
make a nice living, and I do something different ever y day. If I made it in
Hollywood, the scale of success there is much bigger, but Iʼm not sure that Iʼd
be much happier. Iʼve got a good gig here, and thatʼs why I stay.
PH: I came in August, 1993, on a tour with the Harvard Glee Club Light, and
after briefly returning to the U.S., worked here for about two years as an
English teacher. Then I moved to Tokyo to try to work as an actor, model, DJ,
and voice actor. Strangely enough, it worked out. Youʼre supposed to give up
and go home after a year as a starving artist, but I started making three times
my old salary and doing pretty cool stuff.
Although I was doing well, I got the feeling that I wasnʼt going to get any
huge roles as a foreign actor. Even now, 16 years later, there arenʼt any foreign
actors that you see on TV all of the time ─ like in TV dramas or Japanese
movies. You donʼt find people who are making a living just from acting and are
well known. Iʼve done a lot of work as an extra in dramas and movies, but there
is not a foreign name actor who can be a lead or a sub-lead on a regular basis.
If someone is looking for an actor, they donʼt say, “Well, we could use a
Japanese guy, or we could use ʻRoger.ʼ He speaks Japanese really well, and heʼs
got this interesting look, so his character will be that much more attractive and
intriguing because he is a foreigner.” It never happens even though there are
some very talented actors here who are foreigners.
So I sensed right away that this wasnʼt going to happen. When I was
introduced to my comic partner, Makkun, I thought, “Iʼll improve my skills as
an actor by being a comedian.” We started practicing together, went to a
couple of auditions, and got on stage. All of a sudden, we were on the biggest
comedy shows in the country, and weʼd only been working together for half a
year. And I probably didnʼt understand a third of what I was saying.
Things were going smoothly, and then we got this big gig on TBS: every
day for five years, we read the newspaper on TV on a show called “Just.” We
were on many shows and won a lot of comedy tournaments ─ a meteoric rise
to fame. Then, six years ago, I started doing the TV show “Eigo de Shabera
Night.” I was a regular on NHK, which is a lot of prestige and gave me a niche
as the “English funny guy.” And “Omoikiri Ii Terebi” starred me opposite Mina
Monta, who is the pinnacle of the Japanese entertainment industry. I was with
him each time for two hours of live broadcasting, and I led the show, which is a
big responsibility for a guy like me who doesnʼt really know what he is talking
about. Apparently, Iʼve somehow been able to pull the wool over everyoneʼs
eyes for the past 15 years.
Chapter Two: Patrick Harlan 31
AK: I think that part of your staying power is that you can joke about Japan, but
you always seem to maintain an attitude of respect at the same time. So many
Japanese are comfortable with your approach to comedy.
AK: To summarize, you started out doing standup comedy. Then, you moved
into television work first as a comic and expanded later to other genres.
PH: I would not say that I am an accomplished actor. I am not where I wanted
to be. But now, I understand how hard it is both for the foreign actor to act in
Japanese and for the screenwriter to create a role for him.
PH: In America, if not the lead, you could have the romantic interest, for
example, be a Frenchman. A lot of French people live in America. You could
have a Japanese guy do it, too, for the same reason. In the U.S., the
assumption is that everyone speaks English ─ and they really do. It doesn’t
matter if you’re fresh off the boat, people in America will still say, “Speak
English!” Here, if you donʼt speak Japanese well, the citizens of this country
will apologize for not speaking good English. The assumption is not that you
will speak Japanese ─ itʼs that they should speak English.
I originally thought, “There are lots of foreigners in Japan. There should
be plenty of roles in dramas.” I think that one in ten marriages in Tokyo is
international. Why donʼt they have one in ten married couples on TV with a
foreigner? One of the problems is demographics. One in ten marriages may
include a foreigner, but they are mostly with Filipinos, Koreans, or Chinese.
Americans are about tenth on the list. Also, for the writer, itʼs a huge hassle.
You have to explain why this person is here and speaks Japanese. You have to
spend a lot of time on the subplot instead of the plot.
AK: So itʼs all got to be written around you ─ they canʼt just fit you into a pre-
set script?
32
PH: Thatʼs right. As an actor, Iʼd get a lot of fulfillment by being in a real work
of art, which I believe good movies and plays are. But almost nothing that I do
now is art. Itʼs “artisanry.” On the other hand, I get great satisfaction from
getting better, and I do every show. I find it flattering that the writers trust me
with being spontaneous, to improvise off-script.
AK: Letʼs move on to your feelings about Japan. What do you like most about
the Japanese people?
PH: I like what everyone likes: theyʼre respectful, nice, polite, and they have
wonderful senses of duty, responsibility, and social cohesion. One thing that
you donʼt hear usually, though, is that they have a great sense of humor.
Japanese people love to laugh, which was not something that I would have
thought before I came. It is amazing to me that this countr y, which is so
renowned for being hard-working, disciplined, and uptight about duty and
honor, is so full of laughter.
Americans are often nice in a different way, but they can also be really
nasty. I donʼt like tension or people screaming. Violence is great on TV, but itʼs
not much fun in real life. Iʼve been in Japan almost 16 years, and in all of my
daily interactions here, I canʼt think of more than three or four times when Iʼve
heard someone really get angry and scream at another person, and even those
incidents are mostly between people that I donʼt even know ─ arguing in a
house I’m walking by.
You also donʼt hear a lot of bad-mouthing. In America, you hear things
like, “I wouldnʼt trust that person further than I can throw them.” Thereʼs a lot
of slander. You see the reverse here ─ a lot of things that should be said but
arenʼt because people donʼt want to hurt anyone’s feelings. But this sense of
“oburato,” as modern slang puts it, fits my personality very well. I adore that
about Japan. Itʼs irksome to go back to America and have people bitching and
whining in public voices. I used to take it in stride, but it bothers me now.
PH: Sure, I have a problem with the fact that many people canʼt get off the
Chapter Two: Patrick Harlan 33
manual in their jobs. If you ask a waiter for a hamburger without lettuce, heʼll
say, “Iʼm sorry, but our hamburgers come with lettuce.”
“No, when you put the hamburger together, thereʼs one step of the process
where you add lettuce. Can you skip that step?”
“Iʼll go ask the chef.”
Then heʼll come back with the answer, “We can bring you your hamburger
with lettuce, and you can take it off.”
“But I donʼt even want the lettuce on my plate. I donʼt like looking at
lettuce. I donʼt want to touch it. Canʼt you just take it off in the kitchen?”
He just makes an elongated grunt that means “no,” and it drives me nuts.
It used to drive me nuts ─ Iʼm better at it now.
On the other hand, Iʼve found that customer ser vice centers are much
more helpful than in America, and I can generally talk them into something
which I can settle for. In America, you dial the phone but you donʼt get a
human. Even if you do get somebody and they donʼt like what youʼre saying,
theyʼll say, “Hold on, let me transfer you to my manager.” Then they hang up.
There are not many things that I dislike about Japan, but if I had my
druthers, Iʼd prefer that they gave a little more priority to the family, especially
in the workplace. Japanese men should be able to take time off to get their
kids out of elementary school when theyʼve got a fever. Whatʼs the point of
working in a company if employees donʼt cover each other’s backs? It can’t be
just the free office supplies.
I think that unpaid overtime is also terrible. You should get paid for the
time that you work, and you should get all of the vacation time promised in
your contract. Nobody takes it. People sense that their bosses would not like
it, so they spend only weekends ─ or even just Sundays ─ with their families.
Americans donʼt have it right, either. I think that the Europeans have it right.
Why not spend six weeks a year doing something else? You only live once, as
far as I can tell.
I understand the fact that many foreigners get fr ustrated with the
oppressive atmosphere. You have to follow the rules, and if you donʼt, you get
funny looks or a sense of separation between yourself and everyone around
you. Part of the problem is that the rules are unspoken. Everyone is supposed
to know them, so no one bothers to tell you. I remember that a good Japanese
34
friend was eating dinner with my mom and I said, “Mom, this fish is delicious.
Have some.” I handed it to her with my chopsticks, and she took it with her
chopsticks. Of course, chopsticks-to-chopsticks is a big no-no because you
only do that at funerals. You could see on my friendʼs face that she was
thinking, “No! For the love of God, Noooo!” She didnʼt actually say anything,
but my mom sensed that she had done something unspeakable, and it ruined a
few minutes of dinner. I thought, “If you donʼt like it, explain it, and my mother
wonʼt do it again.”
Harmony is so valued here that a lot of small problems like that one donʼt
get fixed. Thereʼs a lot of inefficiency because people are afraid of being
“squeaky wheels.” Here, they say, “The stake that sticks up gets hammered
down.” But in America, we say, “The squeaky wheel gets the grease.” These
approaches are polar opposites.
AK: What would you say are the advantages and disadvantages of being a
foreigner in Japan?
PH: Honestly and a bit sadly, most of the advantages come from being a white
American. People are interested in and polite to you. Your average foreign
white guy walks around and girls say, “Heʼs so good looking!” And itʼs not
necessarily true. Lots of run-of-the-mill white guys ─ some are downright
homely ─ get good-looking girlfriends in this country.
Also, thereʼs the automatic assumption that people are smart because they
speak English, which is nonsense. I mean, they grew up speaking English.
Because American culture and English are the gateways to a huge market, we
are a commodity here ─ both professionally and privately. Itʼs cool to have a
foreign friend. My comic partner said that is why he first started hanging out
with me ─ not that he wanted a comedy partner, but he wanted a foreign
friend. I told him that I started hanging out with him out of charity.
I get a lot of work because Iʼm American. I just did a radio show this
afternoon about differences between Japanese and American cultural mores.
There are lots of good things about being a foreigner.
One bad thing is that you lose anonymity, which is exacerbated by being
an entertainer. Iʼll go shopping and the woman next to me in line will say, “You
Chapter Two: Patrick Harlan 35
shop at this store just like me. Youʼre buying roach hotels and hemorrhoid
cream! And anti-balding shampoo! Oh, you donʼt need to worry about that.”
The hemor rhoid cream stor y is tr ue. It tur ns out that I didnʼt have
hemorrhoids, but I thought I did, and I went to the pharmacy. I brought a tube
of hemorrhoid cream up to the counter and this woman said, “Pakkun!!!” So I
said, “Oh, this was lying on the floor over there. Can I have some hair gel?”
So thereʼs this lack of anonymity, even for a non-celebrity foreigner.
Sometimes Iʼm tired and just want to relax with a beer, so I walk into a
convenience store. If there are elementary school kids, they say, “Gaijin da!”
(“Oh, itʼs a foreigner!”) Then there are people behind the counter saying to me
in English, “Two hundred” (as in 200 yen). The atmosphere makes it obvious
that you are not fitting in fully. Youʼre always on your guard. Not that youʼre
going to be attacked or have to ride in the back of the bus (as some minorities
have had to in the U.S.) ─ itʼs just that you canʼt relax and fade into the crowd.
I think thatʼs the biggest problem.
AK: Even though you speak Japanese as well as you do, you are still treated
like you are not one of the crowd?
PH: Thatʼs right. I have two kids, and they are growing up in Japan. Iʼm
sending at least the older one to Japanese preschool. My wife speaks entirely
in Japanese to them, so theyʼre going to speak Japanese fine. This will be their
only home until we move away. But still, theyʼre “haafu” (“people with one
Japanese and one foreign-born parent”). Thatʼs the term thatʼs used to refer to
them, and theyʼre given different treatment. Obviously, in preschool, they all
play and learn together, but everything is framed differently. Iʼve had some
friends for 16 years, and they are some of the closest people to me in Japan.
They still call my kids “half” and say how cool it is that they are “half.” Of
course, it is cool to be multicultural, but I donʼt want them to be “half.” I just
want them to be kids. Thatʼs very frustrating.
Iʼve lived here for 16 years. I have a Japanese family. I eat Japanese food
every single day. Yet still Iʼll be sitting at an eatery somewhere and the guy
behind the counter will compliment me on how well I use chopsticks. When Iʼm
in a good mood, I might say, “Thanks! Have you ever tried using a fork? Iʼve
36
seen some Japanese people who use forks, and Iʼm always impressed.”
This treatment is all well-intended, and I’m used to it by now, but I feel bad
for the kids. Japanese people think that itʼs flattering ─ that it is welcome
attention. People think itʼs good to be “half.” It sounds like itʼs a position of
esteem or privilege, but it sets you aside ─ outside. It makes you feel less
comfortable, less at home.
PH: In a sense, yes ─ as long as you have a skill, you can get work. But itʼs
hard to get an apartment sometimes or a visa. And itʼs hard to marry some
peoplesʼ children sometimes. But is Japan less open than America? In
America, long-term visas are very difficult to obtain. People get beaten up or
arrested for being illegal immigrants ─ sometimes even terrorized. There are
more ethnic jokes and put-downs. Ethnic jokes don’t even exist here. People
are treated with respect.
I think that a lot of foreigners feel that it is difficult to get along here, but I
would say that a lot of that is related to language. Itʼs a tough language to
master. A lot of foreigners complain about Japan, but Iʼm not sure that they
wouldnʼt complain about anywhere else. Some people say itʼs hard to get a
mortgage, but I donʼt think that itʼs easy to get a mortgage in America without
permanent residency. In Japan, I got a loan as a foreigner and an entertainer,
though I think our loan officer got fired for it. I met a nice Japanese woman,
and her family adores me. Obviously, as an American and a Harvard graduate,
I get a few more brownie points, but it’s not impossible to get along here.
Honestly, if my daughter said that she wanted to marry a foreigner, Iʼd
have some reservations. Look what I did to my mom! She gets to see her
grandkids for 10 hours a year. Whatʼs that? Itʼs terrible. Not that I have
anything against people from other countries, but I want my kids and
grandkids to live near me. If they move, I’ll follow them around the globe. I’ll
be like bad athleteʼs foot ─ Iʼm never going to go away.
AK: How would you like Japan to change in its treatment of Americans and
other foreigners?
Chapter Two: Patrick Harlan 37
PH: This will contradict some of what I just said. I recently watched a TV show
on nursing care provided by foreigners. This was an interactive show where
viewers could vote through their remote controls. Even after they had watched
all of these nice scenes about excellent nursing care provided mostly by
Indonesian nurses, still about 40% of the audience was against it. This is
bizarre to me. Obviously, you prefer that your nurse speaks your language and
understands your cultural references, so you can talk about foods that you both
like, for example. But I canʼt believe that people are complaining about the
country of origin of someone changing their bedpans. Come on! So thereʼs
this natural, almost visceral preference among Japanese people for their own
kind. I’d like to see more openness. On the other hand, if you ask your
average elderly American if they prefer their care to be provided by someone
who has just arrived in America within the last six months or by an American
nurse, 9 out of 10 would probably say, “An American nurse, dagnabbit!”
Iʼd also prefer when I meet people, theyʼd say, “Hey, how are you doing?”
and not “Where are you from?” I want to hear questions like, “What do you
do?” or “Do you have any hobbies?” Stop talking about my country of origin.
Then again, Iʼm not sure that I want this particular opinion published, because
talking about my country of origin is a large part of what Iʼm paid to do.
AK: Do you think at any point that you will be fully accepted in Japanese
society?
PH: Well, Iʼm not sure that my situation is so much different from, for example,
my wifeʼs great aunt whoʼs lived in America for 45 years. She has many half-
American, half-Japanese kids, even more grandkids, and her entire life is over
there. Sheʼs fluent in English. There is very little that sets her apart from the
average American. Obviously, America is much more of a melting pot, but
there are still some occasions when people ask where sheʼs from because she
has an accent. She still gets different treatment, and sheʼs been there almost
50 years! Iʼm not sure that I will ever be treated exactly the same as other
Japanese, but I think thatʼs probably true anywhere. I have a good friend from
New York City whose family is Chinese American. His great-grandparents
came from China. We were on tour together for the Harvard Glee Club down
38
in the southern U.S., and we were at a cocktail party. One of our hosts said to
my friend, “You know, young man, your English is amazing.” He grew up in
New York, lady!
So a lot of foreigners in Japan complain about the treatment that they get
here, but realistically, itʼs pretty good, even by global standards. There are still
some inconveniences, but itʼs a lot better than it was 15 or 16 years ago. I get
less strange looks. Fewer people react with the Gaijin Allergy. Before, no one
could understand my Japanese ─ largely because they couldnʼt fathom that I
was speaking in Japanese. Iʼd go to a train station and ask which platform
number to go to in Japanese, and the station attendant would freeze and say,
“No English!” Thereʼs a lot less of that now. In short, will I ever be completely
accepted? Really, I pretty much already am.
PH: Cultural curiosity is a big part. You have to be willing to get to know the
country. Language skill is a big part. Also, learning the unspoken rules is
important. There are a lot of other rules which I didnʼt really understand until
I joined the geinokai (“world of show business”)─ which is really stricter than
everyday society. For example, you need to know how to address your elders
and certain types of polite expressions. It rubs people the wrong way if you
use the wrong polite phrase. When you do that, theyʼll forgive you because
youʼre a foreigner, but itʼs going to set you apart. You have to stop playing the
Gaijin Card. Unfortunately, part of my persona is playing the Gaijin Card, so I
do it all of the time. But ever y time that you take a pass because youʼre a
foreigner, like being forgiven for something that a Japanese person would get
balled out for, your life may go more smoothly, but it sets you apart a little.
Once again, you can compare this to America. If the Chinese laundry got
your order wrong and bleached your blue shirt but starched your white one,
then youʼd get upset. Many Americans would probably blame them and say,
“You canʼt speak English!” But here, Japanese people would say to me, if I
were running the laundr y, “Oh, Iʼm sorr y, I should have explained that in
English to you.” If you screw up somewhere, you play the Gaijin Card and say,
“Iʼm sorry, I didnʼt understand your Japanese.” And theyʼll be nice and forgive
Chapter Two: Patrick Harlan 39
you. Your Gaijin Card will be accepted. Unfortunately, that also means that
youʼre not really a part of society.
So perhaps the real answer to your question, “When will I be truly
accepted?” is when I stop playing the Gaijin Card. And I still play it. I donʼt
understand all of the nuances of my sonʼs education, for example. I didnʼt
know that you needed to have an extra pair of shoes for use in the garden
inside the preschool. Ever yone here knows this. So I listen, I learn, and
eventually, I will have complete mastery of the culture. Then Iʼll truly fit in.
AK: Do you think that your talents are respected by the Japanese?
PH: Yes, but not in the same way that a Japanese performerʼs would be. On the
other hand, if you give me a script related to English, I am treated as the
authority on the set. In that very small niche in this industry, I have supreme
power. But on most shows, Iʼm not treated with the same respect that someone
of my standing would be if I were Japanese. Iʼm treated with a different kind of
respect. They take the time to explain things to me which would be obvious to
a Japanese person. Thatʼs nice, but itʼs also an indication of their uncertainty
about my level of preparation. And honestly, I like it. It means that I donʼt have
to do a lot of research before I go to a show. For example, they might explain
about Oda Nobunaga, who was a famous historical figure that any Japanese
person would know automatically. I know a good bit about him, but theyʼll give
me extra information, and that helps in my performance.
Your question is dif ficult, because itʼs ver y hard to determine if the
Japanese give me this special treatment as a sign of respect or patronization.
There is a difference. But part of the problem is that I am in a separate
category. I am more well-known and established as a performer than I would
be if I were a Japanese comedian. I have better name recognition and visibility.
But on the other hand, my partner and I are only occasionally invited to be
guests on the big comedy shows or on prime time TV. We are veterans ─ weʼve
been at this for 13 years. But weʼre not A-list celebrities. So itʼs hard to tell if I
am respected at the same level as a Japanese performer would be because
there are very few people in my category.
40
AK: It sounds like you feel some ambivalence about that status.
PH: Well, yes, itʼs an identity crisis. Where do I fall in the echelon of Japanese
performers? And what am I? If you are going to describe me in a word, how
do you introduce me on TV? But I was just on a radio show with two huge-
name talents, and they treated me as a complete equal. I was on a show with
Kitano Takeshi, the film director, and he said, “Hey, I liked that TV drama you
were in.” Then he asked me if Iʼd seen a certain movie, and he asked what I
thought of it. For an ordinary performer, that doesnʼt happen very often. So in
a lot of senses, Iʼm in a different bracket than my competitors and get some
unusual chances because Iʼm foreign. I donʼt know if thatʼs deference or
respect, per se, but it is certainly a bonus.
The key is that I keep getting better work, and Iʼm getting better at the
work that I do. I can feel the difference. When Iʼm on TV, I can tell that the
staff and audience are more responsive every time. People are laughing or
listening. And thatʼs not because Iʼm a foreigner. Thatʼs because Iʼm a better
performer.
Iʼm not always a foreign performer. Iʼm often just one of the many people
on a show. In most of my work, we donʼt talk about America, English, or
anything related to my foreignness. Iʼm on many travel shows, for example.
We’ll go someplace interesting in Japan, eat the food, and talk to the people.
The staff treats me exactly the same way as the Japanese performers. I do a
show where we just walk. It has nothing to do with me being a foreigner. Itʼs
just me being an interesting person on TV.
AK: In other words, you blend in and are accepted for characteristics that are
not related to you being foreign.
PH: Thatʼs right, and I think that this kind of true acceptance comes when you
are contributing to society as fully as anyone else.
41
Chapter Three
When I first arrived in Japan in 1990, Karen Hill Anton’s photo looked up
at me every week from my newspaper, The Japan Times, as I read her column
about her life in rural Japan. To a neophyte like me, Mrs. Anton was omniscient
about this mysterious new land: a Westerner living here for years, ensconced
in a mountain hamlet. She showed Japan and the world her unique lifestyle
when she was featured in Regge Life’s documentary about the experiences
of African Americans living in Japan, Struggle and Success. Since then, she
has continued to be a visible member of Japan’s Western community and expanded
the scope of her work from writing to corporate diversity consulting, which gives
her another lens to view Japan’s transition towards becoming a more diverse
society. Few people are willing to settle in a remote mountain village in a
country where neither they nor their spouse are natives (her husband is also
American), but Mrs. Anton has done it ─ all the while staying true to herself and
demonstrating bravery, flexibility, and faith in the good will of the Japanese
people.
Adam Komisarof: Can you tell me about your background and career in Japan?
Karen Hill Anton: I was born and grew up in the Washington Heights area of
New York City. Iʼve lived in Japan for 34 years. For about 14 years, I was a
columnist for The Japan Times and for a regional edition of the Chunichi
Shinbun. I had essays that appeared in various publications in Japan both in
English and in translation, and Iʼve had essays and a short story published in
the U.S. That was my writing career. As a result of my published work, I was
invited to lecture all over Japan. I also lectured for the Japan Society in about
15 states in the United States, at colleges and universities, as well as in Paris.
42
For the past 10 years, Iʼve worked in the corporate world as a consultant,
managing employee training and development programs for mostly foreign
companies in the financial industry.
AK: You are also well-known for your experiences living in rural Japanese
communities.
KHA: For seven years, we lived in rural hamlets ─ in one place for three and a
half years that had four houses making up the entire hamlet and another place
for three and a half years that had 10 houses. I had four children who were all
going to local schools. Naturally, I participated in local activities and did what
was required of me to be a part of the community. So I attended PTA meetings,
and I was also the vice president of the local childrenʼs association. We donʼt
live in a hamlet anymore, but we still live in rural Japan. If you are living in a
Japanese community, as opposed to an expatriate one, then naturally, you are
going to participate ─ unless you plan on being an outlaw. (laughs) We do
whatever is required in this residential development where we live now. For
example, about four or five times a year we are expected to cut weeds with
everyone at 6 a.m. on a Sunday morning.
KHA: I wouldnʼt say that I try to act like a Japanese, but I do my best to fit in
and cooperate. Carping will get you nowhere. It would only serve to alienate
people. Whatʼs the point?
we wanted to explore Japan on our own, so we said, “Letʼs stay a little longer.”
AK: How did you feel about raising a family in Japan and putting your children
in local Japanese schools?
directives.
I shouldnʼt neglect to say that our daughter was having a perfectly fine
time in school. She wasnʼt complaining about the things that I was. Sheʼd been
in pre-kindergarten in the U.S., but she hadnʼt been to elementary school. So
she didnʼt know or care whether school was five, six, or seven days a week.
She just did it. We were living at the time in that first hamlet, and she would
walk home every day for one and a half or two hours, uphill. But thatʼs where
we lived ─ on top of a mountain. She never once complained, and she did this
for six years.
children will naturally pick up the language of the country where they live. To
make your kids bilingual, you have to speak your language only at home and
insist that they speak it, too. I only spoke to them in English, but they always
responded to me in Japanese.
Another important aspect is that Iʼm black and my husband is white, and
we are Americans living in a community that is exclusively Japanese. We stood
out. We were different enough. We didnʼt want to put any pressure on our
kids to speak our language. We figured that theyʼd learn eventually.
AK: Did you feel like the kids were accepted by their Japanese peers?
KHA: Yes, they were. They didnʼt go to school entirely without any incidents,
but I would say that 95% of their experiences were those of being accepted and
of having friends. They werenʼt left out. They werenʼt bullied. I have often
read about foreign kids or kids of mixed backgrounds having rougher times in
the big cities. I donʼt know all of the reasons for it, but when you live in these
small communities like ours, everything is about being a part of the group. So
if youʼre in the community, which means the school and everything else, then
youʼre part of the group. I remember when Nanao began first grade here, the
principal gathered everyone in the schoolyard and introduced her and us. And
he made a point about her being a new member of the group.
AK: So it didnʼt matter that they looked different from other children in Japan?
KHA: I wouldnʼt say that it didnʼt matter. When they were in junior high
school, they would go to different towns and cities for volleyball games ─ or
other school events or competitions. Sometimes I would hear from them that
the kids from the other schools would look and point at them. But my kidsʼ
own friends and classmates would be protective of them. Their friends would
become aware of the fact that the kids from the other school werenʼt used to
having foreign kids around.
AK: So your kids were very much accepted within your community?
46
AK: And how about you? Have you felt accepted by the community that you
live in?
KHA: In the first place that we lived, all of our neighbors were farmers. At the
time, my expectations were unrealistic. I would have loved to have had people
around to talk to or have tea with. But they were in the fields and had no time
for those kinds of social interactions. When we moved to the city of
Hamamatsu (which was before we built our current house), I got to see more
people and have those tea parties.
Now, in the area where I live, I know a lot of peopleʼs faces, but I could
count maybe one friend. I donʼt think thatʼs a lot. In recent years, Iʼve come to
see that there is something missing in my life. If I were a different person who
didnʼt enjoy socializing, I wouldnʼt mind. I think I can say my neighbors live
introverted lives. Theyʼre all in their houses. If I pass someone while Iʼm
taking a walk, weʼll greet each other or talk about the weather, but it usually
stops there. There is simply not a lot of socializing. So itʼs not like it is just me
who is being left out. Iʼm not such a party hawk, but we like having parties,
dancing, and eating with friends. Most of my friends who we invite to our
parties come from the city of Hamamatsu. With the exception of my one local
friend (her dog and our dog are sisters!), there arenʼt people around here who
I socialize with.
We built our house in this development 20 years ago, and I can count with
one hand the number of homes here that Iʼve been in. I know itʼs not common
in Japan to have people in your home because houses are small, but I donʼt go
for that explanation in this case. Our house might be a little larger or designed
differently from other people because we designed our house with the idea we
would have dinners and parties. But ever y one of our neighbors has new,
comfortable houses. They just donʼt socialize.
AK: So youʼd say thatʼs part of Japanese culture, or do you think that it has
something to do with the fact that youʼre American?
Chapter Three: Karen Hill Anton 47
KHA: I think itʼs just part of the culture. They donʼt socialize with one another
at home. Perhaps people may have tea at a neighborʼs home, but dinner? Iʼm
sure that it never happens in a rural area like this. So we make our own
parties. And itʼs one of the reasons that we go to Europe every year and go to
the States. Our friends in Denmark and Italy, New York and California also
like to socialize. Those places are where we have our fun. Itʼs a different
culture here, and I just accept that.
AK: What do you like the most about Japan and Japanese people?
KHA: There are so many things, of course. I couldnʼt live without Japanese
food! Also, I love the orderliness. As much as I love Italy and the openness
and freedom that you have there, you canʼt expect the trains to be on time or
the plumber to show up as agreed. Itʼs fun when youʼre just vacationing, but if
I were living there, Iʼm sure that Iʼd have a lot of frustration. Itʼs the same thing
when going to the United States, which I consider to be one of the most chaotic
places on Earth. You get used to the service in Japan. I donʼt mean that people
are waiting on you and being obsequious, but I like that they care for you as a
customer or a client.
Also, there is a lack of crime in Japan, which I donʼt even like to mention,
because it sounds as if crime is to be expected. Living here all of these years, I
donʼt expect it. Iʼm shocked by the places where crime is common. I could let
my three daughters go out freely and my son stay out late at night, and really
never worry. My sister couldnʼt say that raising her sons in New York City. I
have friends who live in very nice places in California who couldnʼt say that.
Theyʼre always wary of something.
I think it is total insanity that individuals can have guns in the U.S. ─ and
the consequences of this insanity can be seen regularly in the news. Sadly,
Americans are used to it. The United States is a beautiful country in so many
ways, but the level of crime and violence is a deep stain.
Things have changed in Japan over the years. Iʼm so glad that Iʼm not
raising children now. There was a freedom that our children and their friends
had which I so appreciated. They could go out without any adults. But since
then, some terrible things have happened here. Still, on a scale, there are few
48
KHA: When I was here for the first few years, I was disturbed when people
didnʼt speak their minds. Unintentionally, you might insult someone or hurt
their feelings. You would think that your friends, or people that you were on
close terms with, would tell you. But they wouldnʼt. Over the years, Iʼve come
to see some of the wisdom of that non-confrontational communication where
you donʼt say everything. Some of what we call “openness” or “honesty” in the
West can be pretty self-indulgent. My judgment isnʼt any longer that the
Western way of communication is good and the Japanese way bad. Thereʼs a
lot more that I accept now.
KHA: Yes, definitely. That happened some years back. I realized this when I
was visiting a close friend in the U.S. We had some disagreement or
misunderstanding, and she said, “Well, why didnʼt you tell me what you were
thinking?” I probably said that I was sorry, but at the time what I was really
thinking was, “Well, why didnʼt you know? You should be aware enough,
engaged enough, and considerate enough to know what is going on.”
AK: How has Japan changed during the time that youʼve been here?
AK: What are your goals with clients when you work as a corporate diversity
consultant and trainer?
KHA: When I first started, people had so much to learn, generally, about cross-
cultural interactions on both sides ─ Japanese and Western. Both groups
needed to understand that their way is not the only way. People communicate
differently. Many of these companies are run by Western interests, so thatʼs
the dominant culture, even though most of the employees may be Japanese.
Rather than telling people, “This is the right way, and this is the wrong
way,” I try to teach people how they can be most effective. In each situation,
they have to ask themselves, “What is required? How can I be effective?”
Especially in a corporate environment, there is just no time for any hemming
and hawing or not speaking up. Some CEOs will fly in from New York or
London for a few hours to meet with management. If anyone is a part of that
team and they canʼt quickly speak their opinion, then theyʼre going nowhere in
that company. So I try to teach people the importance of being able to switch
styles. You can make a choice about the way that you are going to
communicate. Just because you are Japanese, it doesnʼt mean that you can
never express your opinion or be assertive. It is possible to do it.
I usually make this point by giving the example of my having studied
Japanese calligraphy for more than 20 years. Iʼm an outspoken, assertive
Western woman, but when Iʼm in my calligraphy class with my teacher,
everything changes ─ the tone and volume of my voice, my body language ─
everything. I make that switch because of what the relationship is. It is a
conscious choice. Being able to do that can also serve you in the corporate
world. I let the people I work with know that theyʼre capable of making that
kind of switch, and it is important to do it. I want to help people adopt a
behavior and communication style that is appropriate to the situation. This is
how they can meet their own professional, career, and personal goals.
AK: How have attitudes and behaviors related to diversity changed while youʼve
been in Japan?
50
KHA: Years ago, if I was out and ran into a group of children, I had to expect
they would fall all over themselves pointing, staring, and giggling. Even adults
would stare and whisper with their hands covering their mouths. That just
doesnʼt happen anymore. But other aspects of diversity, like gender roles, have
also changed. During our early years here, I could not have imagined seeing a
shinkansen (“bullet train”) conductor who was a woman. I would never see a
man hanging laundry. Heaven forbid they would carry a baby on their backs!
But now these scenes are nothing particularly unusual.
KHA: It has been fascinating for me to see the children that my kids have
grown up with. For these children, knowing kids like ours, seeing parents like
my husband and me, coming to our home and hearing the music we play or
tasting the food we eat, is completely normal. I often think, “Look how much
has changed in just a generation.” Their parents certainly never had that
experience.
Also, I think there is generally less stereotyping than before. Instead of
thinking that everyone is blond and blue-eyed, they have realized that someone
from America may even have Japanese ancestr y. So people have more
awareness.
There used to be this perception among many Japanese that there was an
insurmountable wall between Japanese and foreigners, so how could we ever
communicate? More people realize that thereʼs a real commonality here ─ weʼre
both mothers, weʼre teachers, or whatever it is. Itʼs not that the “other” is from
another planet. We can get on. Itʼs possible. The language doesnʼt have to be
a barrier. What we share as human beings is what is meaningful. I seek that
commonality. I look for what is good in people ─ and I always find it.
AK: So would you say that people are more open now than in the past to seeing
the commonality that you share?
KHA: Yes, I really would. As I said, I live in a rural area, so 99% of the people
that I see every day are local country people. Theyʼve never been to a foreign
Chapter Three: Karen Hill Anton 51
KHA: Yes, for sure. Let me start by saying that I have some Japanese friends
who now live abroad and wouldnʼt dream of coming back to live here. Theyʼre
enjoying the freedom of living outside of their culture and wouldnʼt want to live
in Japan again. The Japanese live under a great deal of pressure. There are so
many restraints and obligations and things that are expected of them in terms
of how to behave in ways that are appropriate to their age, gender, and
relationships ─ like with their parents or superiors at work. Everyone is under
some control. Everyone has their role, even how theyʼre supposed to dress.
These are the things that you learn and adjust to as a Japanese person.
Although Iʼm not trying to flaunt convention, as a foreigner, if I donʼt do
this, or donʼt dress like that, I can often get away with not following all of these
rules. They might think this or that about me, but because Iʼm a foreigner, I
probably donʼt care as much as a Japanese person would. But thatʼs also a
reflection of my age. Iʼm a mature woman now. Iʼm in the “Iʼll pretty much do
what I want” stage of life. I think it is natural at this age to become less
concerned with what others think.
52
KHA: Oh, yes, there are many. Just blending in ─ wouldnʼt that be nice
sometimes? In my case, especially, there is nowhere that Iʼm not noticed. After
all of these years, Iʼm used to it. If I werenʼt, Iʼd probably have a mental illness.
Also, because we donʼt have Japanese family members, there are only so many
things that we can participate in. Iʼm sure that there is a lot that we miss out
on by not being part of a Japanese family.
AK: Do you feel like your gender or being African American has added any
other challenges?
KHA: First, I would say that the challenges I faced were around gender. When
I first started writing and trying to publish in Japanese publications, I had a
difficult time. My husband was getting all of these offers to submit essays
since he was a professor. He would say, “Ask my wife, sheʼs a writer.” So there
was a tough period before I had a breakthrough.
As an African American, I havenʼt had any challenges concerning work. I
never experienced someone not hiring me because I am African American. In
that sense, I would say that I have experienced less discrimination than I did
while I was living in the U.S. But I imagine if I were blond and blue-eyed, or
white with brown eyes, then I probably would have been more embraced
socially. Maybe more people would have wanted to be friends with me. But if
people donʼt want to be my friends because I am African American, then those
are people that I wouldnʼt want to be friends with anyway. I wouldnʼt
particularly want to be friends with anyone who wants to know me or not know
me for superficial reasons.
AK: Thatʼs a very powerful realization. So you being African American affected
your social relationships more than your work?
KHA: Yes, for sure. But I want to emphasize that I do have Japanese friends ─
friends who have been close to my family and me for years, and who have been
kind, supportive, and generous in numerous ways.
Chapter Three: Karen Hill Anton 53
AK: In the video Struggle and Success, which you appeared in, one of the people
inter viewed said that African Americans experience less discrimination in
Japan than in the United States. Can you give an example or two?
KHA: Oh my goodness, yes. Even now, if I go into some stores in the U.S.,
even though I have gray hair and am a mature woman, salespeople often look
at me like Iʼm going to steal something. Or, theyʼll ignore me ─ pay no
attention to me whatsoever as a customer. Iʼm not a paranoid type. I donʼt
carry some “black chip” on my shoulder. But you can tell these things.
It stands out so much when it happens because Iʼve been living in Japan all
of these years, and Iʼm used to being treated, if not with deference, at least with
politeness and courtesy all of the time. Shop owners welcome you and say,
“Please come back. Thank you so much for your patronage.” If I go to a dress
shop here, there are two or three people to wait on me. You get used to being
treated politely. I donʼt care what color you are.
I donʼt know any black person in the United States who doesn’t know what
itʼs like to be brushed of f or disregarded simply because of their color.
Because my shoe size is larger than the average Japanese woman, I havenʼt
bought even one pair of shoes in Japan in 34 years. So when I go to the U.S., I
shop. I may buy five pairs of shoes at a time. What can I say? It seems
somewhat ridiculous that shopkeepers are reluctant to take my money!
AK: So in Japan, whatʼs most important is that youʼre a customer ─ not that
youʼre African American.
already introduced me to? I canʼt remember.” And then I realized that she
thought of my husband and me as an “interracial” couple. In Japan we feel we
are, simply, a foreign couple.
More than 20 years ago, I met an African American woman who told me
that living in Japan is the first time she felt she could let go of the “yoke of
color” ─ and what a relief it was. I knew exactly what she was talking about.
AK: How would you like Japanese people to change their views of Americans
and other foreigners?
KHA: Iʼd like Japanese people to be open to all non-Japanese, learn about them,
and want to be friends or neighbors with them ─ to embrace differences.
People who come here from other countries should also have that spirit. You
donʼt know everything about Japan, and even if you are fluent in the language,
you can learn something about Japan and the Japanese. You might surprise
yourself. I always say, “Crossing cultures is a two-way street.” And I really
believe that.
AK: How do you think that Japan has influenced you most profoundly?
KHA: Japan has changed me profoundly in ways that I donʼt even know myself.
I can say that Iʼve become more self-reflective, considerate, and thoughtful.
From the people that Iʼve known here, Iʼve learned generosity and humility that
Iʼm sure I didnʼt have before. Iʼm just not the same human being I was when I
came here 34 years ago.
Living in a culture that is not the culture of my birth has been an enriching
experience. People are sometimes fooled when they see how modern and
technologically advanced Japan is. They think it is the same as America or
Europe. But it is very different, and I feel I am learning something new all the
time. As quiet as my life is here, this sense of continuous learning makes it
exciting and interesting.
Living here has also taught me a lot about mothering. Iʼve been fortunate
to have some Japanese women be role models as mothers. Itʼs not that they
donʼt make mistakes ─ certainly everyone does ─ but they have a different
Chapter Three: Karen Hill Anton 55
way of mothering, and itʼs been a lesson for me. To give an example, when my
youngest daughter was about five years old, she asked me if she could go to
the store. I gave her a purse with some money and said she could buy some
carrots. She came back dragging a bag filled with candy and potato chips! I
was outraged ─ I couldnʼt believe it! At the time, a woman from the local Silver
Center had been helping me in the house. Her reaction was to compliment
Lila and say how thoughtful she was to buy treats for her sister and brother.
That really made me think about my reaction. Also, I used to think that the
most important thing was for children to be independent, even from a young
age ─ for example, that they should sleep alone in their rooms like they do in
America. My mind changed about that, too.
AK: Would you say that your bonds with Japan are stronger than they are with
the U.S. at this point?
KHA: This is where I live. Itʼs where my husband and I have lived our married
life. Itʼs where three of my four children were born ─ where they were all
raised. It is where Iʼve matured. When I go to the United States, Iʼm a visitor.
I usually enjoy myself there, but I always think, “Iʼm visiting.”
57
Chapter Four
Robin Sakamoto
Next, Robin Sakamoto recounts her life in a place where most city-dwelling
Japanese would experience culture shock: a tiny rural community in northern
Japan. As a former American citizen who has naturalized to Japan and pursued
a university teaching career as a mother of three, Professor Sakamoto portends
Japan’s future in multiple ways. First, she is representative of the Westerners who
are becoming Japanese citizens in increasing numbers. Also, as an experienced
teacher in Japan’s elite universities (such as the University of Tokyo), Dr.
Sakamoto is helping to lead the corps of Japan’s working women balancing both
families and careers, as well as Westerners who are making successful inroads in
Japanese society. She describes both her triumphs and struggles while negotiating
membership in Japanese communities, as well as the price of full acceptance: a
vast array of expectations, which may exact a greater toll than many Westerners
are willing to pay.
Robin Sakamoto: I came to Japan in 1985 ─ two weeks after graduating from
university. Iʼve been in Japan for a quarter of a century! So my entire adult life
has taken place here. The first three years, I was a junior high school English
teacher on a program run by a small town in a very rural area in northern
Japan. Shortly thereafter, I married my husband, who is Japanese, started
raising a family, and after wards ended up teaching part-time at the local
national university. Once the kids got old enough, I went back to school to get
my masterʼs degree and PhD ─ mostly while living and working in Japan. I did
spend one year for my PhD in the United States. Afterwards, I came back to
what I thought was a guaranteed job in my adopted hometown, only to find out
58
RS: Iʼm from Michigan, but I moved around a lot ─ thirteen times in the States.
I hated it as a child, but it helped me adjust to Japan.
AK: How did you feel received in your first rural community here?
RS: It was a difficult process. Just this past fall, the mayor who first brought
me to that community passed away. I went to his cremation to pay my final
respects, and when I was there, I saw a number of people whom Iʼd worked
with. It was really special to go back to that town because theyʼre all so proud
of me. Theyʼve read about what Iʼve done, and itʼs like one of the home crowd
has done well. I really felt their support.
But when I first came, I didnʼt feel that. I was the first foreigner to work in
that townʼs board of education, and my job was to sit at my desk. I had a
teaching degree, so I thought that I was going to be teaching a lot, but it was
very different. I did my part, and I tried, but by October, I wanted to go home.
I told the superintendent, “This isnʼt what I was hired to do. Iʼm out of here.”
He said, “Fine, but you didnʼt fulfill your two-year contract, so you need to
pay your own way back to the U.S.”
I was making a very small salary and had student loans to pay, so I couldnʼt
afford it. I looked at him and explained, “I donʼt have the money.”
And he responded, “Well, letʼs figure out what we can do to make this
work.”
Then it was really a joint process. They wanted me to learn Japanese, so
they took me to the elementary school, and I became an elementary school
student on Mondays and Saturdays. I taught at the junior high Tuesdays
through Fridays. There, they had me be a club leader. They really decided
that they wanted me to get involved in the community.
One of my favorite memories was Monday afternoons, which was Culture
Chapter Four: Robin Sakamoto 59
Day. I would go to a different company in the town every week to see what
they did. So I made tatami (“straw mats used as floors in traditional Japanese
rooms”). I made sake. It turned out that I was teaching the children of many
of the workers who I met at these companies. So they really did make me a
member of the community. I received so much more than I gave to them.
RS: In my second year here, I was struggling with the language. One day, the
phone rang, and they said that it was my husbandʼs turn for volunteer fire
department duty. I was still single then, so I told them they had the wrong
number. I hung up, and I realized, “Wow! I understood that conversation!”
This was a turning point for me because I realized, “I can do this. Iʼm capable
of living here.” I finally felt like I could contribute, so I decided to stay a third
year ─ beyond my initial two-year contract. I wasnʼt just receiving anymore. I
could finally respond and give back.
RS: Oh, yeah. Afterwards, I felt really sorry for what Iʼd done, as I was fresh
out of university when I first came. For example, Iʼd go jogging, and I thought
that I was properly attired, but the farmers who were working in their fields
didnʼt. They called the board of education and complained. I went to work that
day, and the superintendent gave me this awful-looking sweat suit with the city
symbol on it. I thought, “How sweet, theyʼre giving me this sweat suit, but Iʼll
never wear it.”
He said to me, “Please wear this sweat suit in the morning when you go
jogging because we got a phone call about your jogging outfit.”
I told him, “You canʼt tell me what to wear!”
Later that year, I was driving, and the board of education got another
phone call about how I should have both of my hands on the steering wheel in
the 10 and 2 oʼclock positions when I drive and that I should not be drinking
coffee while I was driving. Living in a fishbowl was really difficult. But now,
when I think about it, my employers were taking my best interests into
60
account. I was causing them a lot of grief, but I didnʼt know it.
AK: It sounds like you conformed to many of these expectations as time went
on, and by doing so, you became more accepted.
RS: Exactly.
AK: Did you ever feel like the acceptance was too much ─ when people shared
information with you or had expectations towards you that made you
uncomfortable?
RS: Not those first three years. That happened later. The first town where I
lived had 30,000 people, and then I moved to a city of 300,000, where I live now.
However, everybody still knows everybody. I cannot go shopping in our city
without meeting someone I know. I have always worked part-time, but once I
had kids, my identity switched much more to being a housewife. As a
housewife, I was accepted. I even became PTA president for my sonʼs
preschool.
But it got to the point where I didnʼt want that identity anymore. I
remember being at a gathering with the wives of a doctor, a lawyer, and a
Buddhist priest. I thought, “Wow! This could be really exciting!” Then, they
started talking about what figurine they had gotten in a chocolate egg and
which kind they were still looking for. Thatʼs when I said to myself, “Iʼve got to
get out of here. This is not the identity I want.” I wanted to go deeper, and
they didnʼt. But these were the kinds of mundane talks that they had with each
other. Those conversations are just part of that world. They werenʼt shutting
me out because I was foreign. The community accepted me, so I could have
had that role as a housewife for as long as I wanted. Once I decided that the
role of a housewife was too limiting for me, they didnʼt understand why.
Now that Iʼve come to Tokyo, though, I really see that Iʼm no longer
accepted in my city because Iʼve left. Especially since my father-in-law now
needs to be cared for, and Iʼm only there on weekends, a lot of people think
that Iʼm being very selfish by having a career and being away during the week.
And they tell me so. They think what I am doing is frivolous ─ that my job is to
Chapter Four: Robin Sakamoto 61
take care of my father-in-law, not pretending to have a career. That still upsets
me. I go grocery shopping, and someone will say incredulously, “You came
back?” Yes, I explain, I come back ever y weekend for my sonʼs activities.
People will say, “How can you leave your son when heʼs so young?” For me,
thatʼs crossing a line.
Iʼve come to notice as the economy gets worse that many of these women
are working in convenience stores because that is the only job available which
they can do. So I think that there may be a bit of jealousy or envy, but Iʼve
worked hard for what Iʼve achieved. Thatʼs a totally American way of thinking:
“If you work hard, you will be rewarded.” But thatʼs not the Japanese mentality;
here, I am the oldest sonʼs wife, and I am supposed to take care of my in-laws.
As long as I accepted that role, I was accepted by the people in my community.
But once I no longer did so, I felt like I was suddenly an outsider.
AK: When you became a Japanese citizen in 1996, did that change how you
were received in the Japanese community?
AK: But by taking Japanese citizenship, it sounds like youʼve been accepted in
many ways.
RS: No, they are Japanese. After my second child was born, I decided to
change my citizenship. Then, the koseki included my name, so my son was
born to two Japanese parents.
AK: When you go back to America, do you ever get treated strangely because
youʼre not an American citizen anymore?
AK: In Japan, your sign says the opposite, “I look like a foreigner, but Iʼm really
Japanese.”
RS: Yes.
RS: I feel more Japanese than American in many ways, except for things that
frustrate me about Japanese society. Then I really connect with my American
cultural side. Related to feeling Japanese, I love Japan because itʼs safe and
people, including me, respect the common good. I really admire what Japan
did after World War II: they took care of everybody and wanted everyone to be
successful in a strong economy. I get very frustrated when I see riots in the
U.S., or after a natural disaster, you see people on the news looting stores.
Where is that mentality coming from? It disappoints me. As a woman, I like
being able to walk anywhere in Tokyo. Iʼve never been afraid. And I canʼt do
that in the U.S. So emphasis on the common good and safety are things that I
really respect about Japan, which I think are related.
I donʼt like the idea that there are no second chances in Japan ─ unlike the
U.S. In Japan, if you donʼt get into the company that you want, then thatʼs the
end. Also, people feel that theyʼre born into a certain role, and then they follow
it without ever trying something else. People from my town canʼt grasp why I
am working in Tokyo because thatʼs not a part of their psyche. They canʼt
understand that part of my identity. I look at them and think, “What a waste.
You could be doing so much more than cleaning the house all day and then
working at a convenience store for two hours in the afternoon.”
RS: Especially female labor. But itʼs not changing. My female students donʼt
want to work. They want to marry a rich guy, drink coffee all day with their
friends, and go shopping. I was really hoping that my students would look at
me and think that I am a role model for working women with families. Maybe
1 out of 20 does. Thatʼs what keeps me going. But itʼs got to be more than just
women ─ the men also need to be able to realize that a woman can be their
motherʼs age and teaching. That happened when I switched to the University
of Tokyo because some of the students were former high school classmates of
my daughter. They knew me as her mother first, so I wasnʼt just a professor to
them. So you can bend perceptions, but this mentality about women really
needs to be drastically changed for the future of Japan.
AK: Have you been able to establish and maintain deep friendships in Japan?
RS: I have one very dear friend. We laugh and cry together. I asked her once,
“Are we going to hold hands and walk down the street together when weʼre old
ladies?”
She just said, “Of course. Why are you even asking?”
Itʼs really special to have a person like that. Itʼs only one, but it gives me
hope that there could eventually be more. She lives in the city where I live,
and weʼve been friends for over 20 years now.
AK: How has Japan changed during the time that youʼve been here?
RS: Drastically. Unfortunately, the things that I respected early on about Japan
have been changing, such as valuing literacy. When I first came to Japan and
got on the train, everybody was reading books. Now theyʼre all absorbed in
their cell phones. Language has become so abbreviated because of text
messaging, and communication has become very shallow. People sit down
together at coffee shops, and they donʼt look into each otherʼs eyes ─ they look
at their cell phones. I worry about that.
Back then, people valued the common good more than now. The reason
that you were able to get a high level of commitment from people at work and
in society was because they cared about each other. If you donʼt communicate
Chapter Four: Robin Sakamoto 65
and understand how other people feel, then you cease to care about them.
Thatʼs not good for any society.
Also, if you donʼt live with your in-laws or have them close by ─ which is
more and more the norm these days ─ then children lose one important group
of people to learn their values from: their grandparents. My father-in-law was
the fifth son in his family, and even to this day, whenever he eats a bowl of
white rice, he is thankful for it because he used to get the burned rice at the
bottom of the pot. By sharing this with my children, the children understand
that every single grain of rice is to be eaten and given thanks for. How do I
teach that without him there?
And I donʼt understand where my students get the money for the fashions
that they wear or the lifestyles that they lead because only their father is
working to pay their university tuition. To be thankful for that sacrifice is
important. Have they ever said thank you? It concerns me how Japan has
changed.
RS: Yes, there are weaker connections all around. There is also so much
escapism with video games. I forbid my children to have them. Instead they
would fill up plastic bottles with water, make a newspaper bowling ball, and
bowl in the hallway. They were creative. Theyʼd put a tent up on the roof and
sleep overnight. They didnʼt need video games to have fun.
When I teach a class, I can usually pick out the students who are addicted
to video games and those who arenʼt. Thereʼs a totally different outlook on life
for those who arenʼt addicted. They still have curiosity. Theyʼre not absorbed
in a world that isnʼt real. Theyʼre actually involved in and a part of this world.
The current young generation is forgetting about the common good because
they are so focused on their own narrow worlds which are not necessarily
connected with reality.
AK: Do you think this absorption in video games is unique to Japan or a global
phenomenon?
66
RS: Itʼs probably a global phenomenon, but in Japan, I think escapism goes
even deeper. For instance, there are NEETs (“people who are ʻNot in
Education, Employment, or Trainingʼ”), who donʼt work or go to any kinds of
schools, and in Japan, in extreme cases, they never even leave their rooms.
The term NEET comes from the U.K., but over there, it usually stops around
18 or 20 years of age. In Japan, it continues to 38 or 39. How do these people
survive? Itʼs a concern for the future of Japan.
RS: Unfor tunately, yes, there are, and I donʼt like when foreigners take
advantage of that. Many foreigners who I work with in Tokyo donʼt speak
Japanese, and I donʼt see how you can live in a foreign country and not learn
the language. Thatʼs my own pet peeve because I struggled so hard to learn
Japanese. You donʼt need to know it in Tokyo. Where I lived before, you did.
In Tokyo, people turn their heads and stare at me when Iʼm speaking Japanese
with my daughter. So thatʼs an advantage which foreigners have in Tokyo:
people donʼt expect them to learn the language.
In general, the Japanese will be very kind to foreigners and help them.
Yesterday, I went to a city office, and the man kindly spent an hour with me
going over all of my forms. Finally, I just looked at him and said, “Iʼm in the
wrong office, arenʼt I?”
And he just looked at me and said, “Yes, you are.”
I thought, “Instead of wasting an hour of your time, why didnʼt you just tell
me this an hour ago?” But they donʼt do that in Japan. Thereʼs this constant
kind treatment we receive as guests. I was in Kyoto once in a coffee shop. The
waitress was having a bad day, and she threw the menus on the table. I was so
happy! It was the first time that someone had been rude to me in Japan. It
made me feel good, because I was just like any other person ─ one of the
group.
So I do think that there are benefits to being foreign in Japan, and I have
to be careful not to take advantage of them because I donʼt think thatʼs right.
AK: Do you ever still take advantage of these privileges, either on purpose or
Chapter Four: Robin Sakamoto 67
inadvertently?
RS: Yes, if itʼs something that I really want, then I will play the Gaijin Card. For
example, if an onsen (“hot spring bathhouse”) is closing in 10 minutes, Iʼll say,
“Oh, come on. Iʼve come all the way to this onsen, and Iʼll be really quick.”
Thatʼs terrible, and I shouldnʼt do that. And I donʼt do it often. But when I do,
itʼs pretty harmless. I know that not everyone is going to be out of the bath in
10 minutes, so I wonʼt be holding anyone up if I bathe quickly.
AK: Even though you have Japanese citizenship, when you meet Japanese
people whom you donʼt know, do you have to go through the whole process of
getting them to accept you and breaking down their stereotypes?
RS: Yes. But itʼs like an African American friend of mine in the U.S. said, “You
pick your battles.” Am I really going to make an issue out of this, or do I let it
slide today? You have to choose what really matters to you.
AK: Do you see a lot parallels between the experiences of your African
American friends in the U.S. and yours as a foreigner in Japan?
RS: There are many. For example, thereʼs a test for “White Privilege” in the
U.S., and one of the questions is, “Can I buy a band aid in my skin color?” Well,
try getting a haircut in Japan. I canʼt get goods and services that are right for
me as easily as I could when I was part of the white majority in the U.S.
AK: So in the U.S., you are the “norm,” but here, youʼre not.
68
RS: Yes, exactly. But the big difference with African Americans is that as a
foreigner, I havenʼt lost my sense of privilege, which I also have being white in
the U.S. I canʼt say thatʼs a shared experience for African Americans,
unfortunately.
RS: Itʼs a two-way street. You have to be in an environment where people want
to accept you as well as you wanting to be accepted. I could try to adapt to
Japan as much as possible, but if the Japanese arenʼt receptive, then itʼs just not
going to happen. In the small village where I first lived, it was awful in the
beginning. But then, we both changed our expectations, and it worked.
And it takes a long time. If you want to belong in this society, you need to
be willing to give it your lifetime. Itʼs not going to happen in two or three years.
Now, the students that I first taught at university are my childrenʼs English
teachers in junior high. It comes around. But Iʼve been here for 25 years.
To be accepted, youʼve also got to understand whatʼs going on culturally,
and that understanding takes a long time. Like many foreign English teachers,
if you come to Japan on a hugely inflated salary and have few responsibilities
compared to your Japanese coworkers, then youʼre not going to be accepted.
But if you work until 10 or 11 at night just like one of the group, then you will
be.
Iʼm really embarrassed about some of the things that I did when I first
came here. I was rude to people. I didnʼt mean to be ─ but I didnʼt understand
that they had my best interests at heart. Now that I do understand that, Iʼm
luckily still here. So I can go back and say thank you and the other things that
I should have said before.
AK: How have Japanese peoplesʼ views of Americans changed while youʼve
been here?
RS: When I first came, there was still a strong World War II mentality that
Americans had to be treated like special guests. Now that Americaʼs economy
Chapter Four: Robin Sakamoto 69
isnʼt doing as well and Americans are seen as a bit more fallible, I think that
there is less of that. Of course, getting a visa is so much easier for an American
than a Filipino. I have a hard time accepting that about Japan ─ foreigners are
treated differently depending on their nationality.
AK: How would you like Japan to change in terms of how foreign people are
treated?
RS: Before foreigners can be, Iʼd like to see Japanese accept more diversity
among themselves ─ for example, retur nees (“Japanese with lengthy
experience living overseas”) or women within the workforce. Conformity is
good, but Iʼd like to see Japanese people have more second chances than they
do now. Does ever yone have to get a job in their junior or senior year at
university? Canʼt we accept someone going abroad and working for an NPO
for two years, and then going through the recruitment process two years after
graduation? Canʼt we accept that kind of diversity into our companies and
workforce?
This is such a beautiful country. There is so much that is special here ─
and what has always been most special is the people. If you donʼt keep that
respect for the people which made this country what it is, then I think youʼre
losing the essence of the country itself.
It is important that companies value Japanese peopleʼs foreign experiences
after theyʼve worked abroad for two years by putting them in leadership
positions ─ instead of giving them awful jobs because theyʼre different. That
happens to many Japanese expatriates when they return to the head office after
working abroad. If Japanese companies can be more accepting of diverse
experiences among Japanese, then they can be more accepting of foreigners.
How can we hope that foreigners who are different will be valued if Japanese
who are different arenʼt?
RS: With globalization, they realize that things have to change. I once worked
70
AK: So itʼs a time of transition. People need to figure out how to keep the
continuity of Japanese culture while adjusting to the global marketplace.
RS: Very much so. But that is what Japan is good at. They will be able to adapt
and excel, but it will take time.
AK: You said that youʼve been largely accepted in Japan, especially in the area
of northern Japan where youʼve spent most of your time. Have your childrenʼs
experiences been similar?
RS: I would not have raised my children in Tokyo, simply for the fact that in
our city, my children have always had the identity of being my husbandʼs
children. Therefore, they were members of the community from birth. They
went to the same elementary school that he went to. They went to the same
junior high school that he went to. Their classmatesʼ parents were my
husbandʼs classmates. I also made sure that they participated in local festivals.
So my children were accepted ─ it didnʼt matter that they had blond hair. They
really feel like that is home.
So my husband and I, as parents, were able to help create that for them, as
well as my father-in-law, who is also a member of that community. Having a
home base has been very instrumental in their being able to do as well as they
have academically and socially. Weʼve never had a problem with bullying.
Chapter Four: Robin Sakamoto 71
Once again, the acceptance was two ways: the community was willing to accept
them and they wanted to be accepted in the community.
AK: Your daughter was the first runner-up in a national Japanese speech
contest for native speakers when she was in junior high school, giving a speech
entitled, “I Am a Citizen of the World.” In it, she recalled when passersby, who
didnʼt know her, pointed and called her a “foreigner.” This is particularly ironic
since she is a Japanese citizen and was a prizewinner in the national Japanese
speech contest. Is this kind of treatment mostly from people who donʼt know
her?
RS: Yes, definitely. If you step out of your familiar world of acquaintances, youʼll
get that. In the world of people who know her and my family, she feels very
accepted. Because she and my other children have grown up here and done
well here, they are accepted at a level that I never will be. Theyʼve gone
through the system and I havenʼt. The system really works for them.
73
Chapter Five
Debito Arudou
Debito Arudou: I was born in California and raised in upstate New York.
DA: A girl. That was during the Bubble Economy period in 1986. I had a
Japanese pen pal whom Iʼd met in the U.S. She invited me over, and we fell in
74
love.
AK: What kind of work have you been doing since then?
DA: I star ted out in an English conversation school from 1987 to 1988.
Afterwards, I went back to the U.S. for graduate school and got my masterʼs
degree. Then I returned to Japan and worked for a trading company for 15
months. I realized that I am not a businessman as I didnʼt have a very good
time. I landed a tenured job in a university in 1993, and Iʼm still there today.
AK: What do you like most about Japan and the Japanese?
DA: I donʼt really like categorizing people as “the Japanese.” I like phrasing the
question better this way: “What do I like about life here in this country and
society?” Now then: food. I also love the Japanese language. Itʼs a fun
language to learn and to speak. I also like the humor, debate, and puns used in
this society. Iʼm never bored in Japan. There is always something that makes
me stop and think, “Whatʼs going on here? Letʼs see if I can figure this one
out.” Itʼs a daily puzzle ─ thatʼs the most fun about being in Japan.
DA: Of course I do. I point out a lot of issues and problems, but no place is a
bowl of cherries. Every society needs improvements. I see my job as a person
who says, “Letʼs work on this issue because there are some problems that need
fixing. How about it?” I donʼt hate Japan. I love Japan ─ itʼs just tough love. I
want to point out some things that would make life better for all. Thatʼs how I
see my voice in this society.
AK: You are very well known as a social activist. What drives you?
DA: If I didnʼt do anything, then nothing would change. When I first came
here, I was a cultural relativist who thought, “Japan can get along perfectly well
without me. Iʼm only a guest in this society. Japan has a different culture, so I
Chapter Five: Debito Arudou 75
have to understand it.” But I realized after a while that there was something
very political going on. What was called “the Japanese way” was being used by
Japanese people as a weapon to shut up or control non-Japanese by saying,
“You canʼt do this because itʼs not the Japanese way.” Everyone was trying to
be a gaijin handler and a cultural representative.
I started to look at what people were saying was “the Japanese way,” like I
couldnʼt wear sneakers during my commute to my trading company. I had to
wear leather shoes because somehow it would put them in a bad light. They
were saying that I was a representative of the company even on the street.
They also said that I couldnʼt go to the bathroom more than once a day because
itʼs the Japanese way. My boss even called up my wife at work and asked her
on a date ─ and blamed it on, guess what. Thatʼs one of the reasons that I quit
the company ─ because it was abuse.
One of the things I learned is that you have to stand up for who you are.
Understand the ways things are done around you, but also understand that you
need to stand up sooner or later and say, “Iʼm sorry, but I’m an adult, too, and
this is the way that I do things” and reach some kind of rapprochement. Itʼs
better to take a chance and try to change something than do nothing and let it
fall fallow. Iʼve seen time and again where Iʼve done something, and it has
changed things. That, to me, is a life-sustaining force. It might be 1 time out of
10, but that nice, juicy 10% is what makes me feel as though itʼs all worth it.
The Otaru Onsen Case is a shining example. An onsen is a bathhouse
where families can go and have a nice soak. There were some bathhouses in
Otaru in 1999 that had some signs up saying “Japanese only.” The funny thing
was that they were deciding who was Japanese based upon how they looked. If
somebody was Asian, they could get in. If someone was Western, they couldnʼt.
I went to one of these bathhouses with a bunch of family members,
friends, and a reporter in tow, and asked if we could come in. The management
would only admit the Asians and refused the three Caucasians in our group.
When we asked why, they told us that Russian sailors were coming to the
bathhouses drunk and causing disruptions. So before any more trouble
happened and they lost any more Japanese customers, the bathhouses were
going to refuse all foreigners. We told them that we were not Russian sailors
and were permanent residents of Japan. Between the three Caucasians, weʼd
76
lived in Japan for 30 years or so. We said, “We know how to take a bath. Can
we come in?”
They said, “No, if we let you in, then that would be discriminatory. Since
we canʼt tell you apar t from Russians, weʼre going to have to refuse all
foreigners equally.”
But isnʼt that the very definition of discrimination? So we asked, “What
about other foreigners who donʼt necessarily look foreign? How are you going
to deal with them?”
They replied, “Oh, weʼll refuse them, too.”
So we asked, “What about the Chinese lady from our group that you just
let in?”
Oops. Once they kicked her out, we asked about our children. My wife at
the time explained that we have a daughter who has black hair and brown eyes
as well as another daughter with brown hair and greenish-blue eyes. Even
though they were both born and raised in Japan, fluent Japanese speakers, and
Japanese citizens, the owners said, “We’ll have to refuse one of your daughters
because she looks foreign.”
Well, there’s no other choice but to call that racism. That was the basis of
the Otaru Onsen Case. We spent 15 months negotiating with that onsen and
two others which also had exclusionary signs up refusing entry to “foreigners,”
but we couldnʼt get the signs down. We took the original onsen that refused us
to court and won. We also took the city of Otaru to court, but they wouldnʼt
hold the city responsible for not stopping it ─ even though theyʼre bound to by
international treaty. That case took from 1999 to 2005. We went all the way up
to the Supreme Court. Now, we have a court case that can act as a deterrent.
The problem is that we donʼt have a law in Japan against racial discrimination,
so you have to take each discriminator to court one by one.
AK: When you won the case, did that bathhouse take down its signs barring
foreigners?
DA: No, they took down the signs on the day that we announced to the media
that we were going to sue them. However, they put up a different, new sign
stating four different conditions for admitting foreigners: first, they had to be
Chapter Five: Debito Arudou 77
able to speak Japanese. They had to have lived in Japan for more than one
year, which bars tourists. Third, they had to know bathhouse rules. But how
do you test that? And they had to be willing to follow the rules. So they
established rules that were just as discriminator y ─ same wine, different
bottle.
DA: Because theyʼre completely arbitrar y, and they donʼt stop racial
discrimination. Itʼs like the literacy tests that they had for voting in the
American South. They could say, “You donʼt speak Japanese well enough for
us” or “I donʼt like the looks of you ─ youʼre out of here.” There is no way for
you to quantifiably say, “This person speaks adequate Japanese” or “This
person adequately knows about bath r ules.” It just amounts to gaijin
harassment.
AK: Donʼt you think that itʼs acceptable for the Japanese to say that non-
78
Japanese have to learn a certain amount about Japan in order to enter a hot
spring facility and not break the rules of the bathhouse? Or do you see that as
discriminatory?
AK: What motivated you to change nationalities, and how do you feel about it
in retrospect?
DA: It was a rational decision. In 1997, I bought a house. I have a large loan to
pay back over 30 years, so I canʼt leave Japan. I thought at the time, “In Japan,
I pay taxes, and Iʼve got no problem with the language. Iʼve got good neighbors
and a fine lifestyle. I live in Japan like any other citizen. So why not be a
Japanese citizen?” No matter where I lived ─ in Cuba or Zimbabwe ─ Iʼd take
the citizenship of that country if I were going to stay there permanently. And
thatʼs what Iʼm doing.
How do I feel about it in retrospect? Nine years later, I still think that I
Chapter Five: Debito Arudou 79
made the right decision. I donʼt feel American ─ thatʼs my former nationality.
When I go back to America, I get culture shock. Iʼm more comfortable here. Iʼve
been here half of my life. So after a while, you realize that where you grew up
has a fundamental bearing on how you approach life, but also that you can
migrate, live in a different land, and have it fundamentally change you. More
people than ever are immigrating to other countries. It is possible, and I
believe with my citizenship that Iʼve enabled that. Iʼm no longer a stranger in a
strange land.
AK: What are the reactions of people when they hear that youʼve changed your
citizenship?
DA: Japanese people often ask my country, and I say itʼs Japan. And they blink
a few times and ask me the same question. And I repeat: Japan. So they ask
me how that figures. I tell them that Iʼve taken Japanese nationality. Once they
realize that Iʼve naturalized, the conversation goes in a much better direction.
They donʼt ask me if I can eat Japanese food or use chopsticks. Those
questions are boring.
There are only nine Japanese people so far who have then said to me, “Oh,
but you arenʼt really Japanese.” In other words, one per year. The number of
non-Japanese who have said that to me have been about one-third or even half.
So I get more xenophobic attitudes from non-Japanese. They say, “Youʼll never
be Japanese because I havenʼt experienced it.” Well, Iʼm sorr y, but if you
nationalize, you are on the other side of the mirror. It does make a difference.
AK: So you feel like the Japanese treat you much more like a member of their
society now that youʼve changed nationalities?
DA: I would say that Japanese people are more accepting of me now than they
ever were before I naturalized.
DA: I first came during the Bubble Economy. It was one great, big party. The
80
Imperial Palace was worth more than all of Canada. Ever yone was happy
getting rich. Then, the bubble burst. Japanese people were having trouble
making money. The mantra of kokusaika, or internationalization, began to
wear thin, and people were wondering whether the non-Japanese were just
coming here to get rich. The Japanese were worrying that foreigners would
commit crimes and disrupt society. The image of non-Japanese as English
teachers and misunderstood outsiders changed to people who were some kind
of threat ─ especially with the number of Chinese, Brazilians, and other
laborers that were here. They were coming at the request of the Japanese
government to work in factories, but they were made out to be poor and
disruptive members of society.
Now, Japanese people are realizing that they canʼt rely on the government
to make every decision. I think that Japanese will also realize that anyone who
is willing to contribute to this society should be given a fair shake in life ─
including the non-Japanese. There are more and more people who are
naturalizing in Japan. Ten or 15 years ago, that was unheard of. We now have
a Finnish-born Caucasian who is a member of the Diet, or Parliament. In fact,
we have three naturalized people who have been elected to the Diet and others
that have been elected to local councils. We have more international marriages
and children than ever before. And we have more non-Japanese in this society
than ever before ─ though admittedly a smaller number compared with many
other countries.
Based on whatʼs happening in Japan, weʼre seeing a possible tectonic shift
in attitudes towards the outsider. People have to deal with immigration. The
society is aging and places are depopulating. You might as well let non-
Japanese into Japan and get them used to the way that things are done here
before Japan is too old, feeble, and depopulated to do anything about it.
DA: I would think so. The United Nations in 2000 said that Japan needed
600,000 immigrants a year in order to maintain its current standard of living.
We only import approximately 50,000 a year now ─ a big shortfall. But I donʼt
think it will stay that way.
Chapter Five: Debito Arudou 81
Iʼd like to see the gover nment build an Immigration Bureau that
encourages immigration instead of policing it. Non-Japanese are contributing
to society. So donʼt give them extra policing ─ give them the tools that they
need to acclimatize and contribute to this society as well as possible: free
nationally-sponsored language courses, assistance with finding jobs, and
assistance when they lose their jobs. Donʼt assume that theyʼre always going
to be minimum-wage workers in a factory. Prepare them for managerial and
administrative positions as well. Bring them into the police force. If thereʼs a
language barrier, youʼre going to need people who speak a foreign language to
help with investigations. Lose the insularity. Show good faith towards people.
AK: Do you have any other recommendations about how to make Japan more
inclusive?
DA: Iʼll give you the “short list” from my blog. First, Japan should allow dual or
multiple nationalities. Right now, if you take on Japanese nationality, you must
give up your other one. Why should people need to deny half of their identity
just because they want to be Japanese? Last year, the Japanese media claimed
that there were three Japanese who won Nobel Prizes. It turns out that one of
them is actually a naturalized American citizen, but they still claimed he was
Japanese. If dual nationality is allowed, Japan has more undisputable Nobel
Prize winners.
Next, Japan should pass a law against racial discrimination. That is the
lynchpin to everything. Without that, you cannot stop discrimination. Also,
Japan needs to sign the Hague Convention on Childhood Abductions. Japan
has no joint custody or visitation rights after a divorce. The Hague Convention
on Childhood Abductions would clarify what to do when an international
marriage breaks up and the child is taken away ─ especially if the kid is
abducted to Japan. Also, Iʼd like to see Japan ease its naturalization
requirements. Itʼs very difficult to become a Japanese citizen ─ very arbitrary,
too.
DA: It was hard, but not as hard as it could have been because Iʼm a white
American. If a Chinese or a Filipino wanted to naturalize, it would be a lot
tougher. Filipinas are generally asked about their sex lives when they want to
naturalize because the Japanese government wants to see if they were in the
sex industry. People also think that most Southeast Asians got here through
human trafficking.
When you apply for citizenship, the government will open up your
refrigerator to see what you eat. Theyʼll look at your childrenʼs toys to see
what they play with. Theyʼll ask your neighbors if they think you are “really
Japanese.” I asked them, “Does this mean that I have to wear a yukata and eat
only natto (‘fermented soybeans’)?”
And they said, “No, as long as you donʼt cause any ‘feeling of incongruity’
with our inspection officials.”
Yeah, sure, whatever that means. So itʼs really arbitrary. They need to
make it easier for people to become Japanese.
Next, easing the Immigration Bureauʼs visa requirements is important.
Right now, it takes about five to ten years to get the equivalent of an American
Green Card in Japan, or permanent residency─ five years if youʼre married to
a Japanese person and ten if youʼre not. I know some people who have had
ver y minor infractions of the visa rules, so they were denied permanent
residency, and they had to wait another three to five years to get it. This is
silly. If people want to live here permanently, let them. Make it easier for
them. Five years is too long.
There are other issues: stamping out labor abuses of non-Japanese
trainees, workers, and educators; allowing non-Japanese to register as
residents just as Japanese can; clear guidelines preventing the Japanese police
from racial profiling; stronger labor laws for everyone; and abolishing the re-
entry permit system. Thatʼs a gaijin tax. If you leave the country, you have to
pay money to keep your visa active. Fortunately, there are plans to get rid of
that system ─ and none too soon. Thereʼs more: clear public statements from
the government praising and encouraging immigration; granting citizenship
based on place of birth ─ not blood; allowing non-citizens suffrage in local
elections; creating an Immigration Ministry to draft immigration policies; ease
credit and loan requirements for non-Japanese; and strengthening the Ministry
Chapter Five: Debito Arudou 83
AK: Thatʼs a very thorough list. It would be great if Japanese laws and society
changed in all of those ways.
DA: Well, it’s a long laundry list, and they’d be difficult to institute all at once,
but it would certainly help people.
AK: Have you noticed that it is more difficult for some groups than others to
gain acceptance in Japanese society?
AK: How would you compare the treatment of people from other countries who
are living in the U.S. with the treatment of those living in Japan?
DA: I donʼt like to compare with other countries. Whenever you do, there is
always an incentive to say, “It doesnʼt matter because Japan is different. We
Japanese are unique. Who are you to impose your own cultural values?” So I
just want to talk about basic standards of living in Japan and basic human
rights as covered by United Nations charters and treaties that Japan has
signed. In terms of those treaties, I would say that Japan does not give enough
civil or political rights to non-Japanese. Japan has a nasty habit of making
excuses instead of abiding by treaties.
AK: Youʼre also ver y well-known for your “University Blacklist” on your
webpage and for actively campaigning for non-Japanese faculty membersʼ
rights at Japanese universities. Can you talk about your work there and which
issues you think are unresolved?
Chapter Five: Debito Arudou 85
DA: I put up the University Blacklist in 1997 to try to demonstrate that there
are minimum standards for employment. I compared the labor laws and
contracts of non-Japanese with those of Japanese. I made the case that there is
academic apartheid in Japan. Japanese generally get tenure from day one, but
if youʼre not Japanese, then you usually get a time-limited contract and you can
be fired at any time.
So the University Blacklist is an information source about the minimum
standards for employment in universities. I put up the names of a few dozen
schools to begin with ─ universities that said they would hire foreigners only
on time-limited contracts. Foreigners have been eligible for tenure since 1982,
but few people have gotten it. So a standard was applied to foreigners that few
Japanese have ever had to live up to. Even though Iʼm a naturalized Japanese
citizen, Iʼve been told that I would be given a contracted position, not tenure, if
I applied for certain jobs ─ simply because I am a native speaker of English.
So this is a way of keeping non-Japanese educators in tenuous positions,
hungry, and on a short leash.
In this system, people canʼt do any research because they have to get a
new job every three to five years, and it takes a whole year to find one. If you
are perpetually unqualified for permanent positions, then it affects your entire
life. You canʼt get a home loan, and you canʼt settle into life in a community
because you have to move around whenever you find a new job. So the
University Blacklist tells people which schools have poor employment practices
and urges them to avoid these universities. If people work there, they will have
unstable lives in Japan. Universities on my “Greenlist” have good employment
practices, though.
AK: Has the situation at universities changed since you put up the Blacklist?
DA: There are more universities on the Greenlist than before. But by and
large, non-Japanese academics are very lucky if they land a tenured job as a
newcomer. Usually, they first need to put in five or more years of contracted,
full-time work. If youʼre Japanese, though, itʼs going to be a lot easier to get
tenure. In my mind, based upon nationality, thereʼs still a system of academic
apartheid in places. Itʼs gotten a little bit better, but itʼs nowhere near where it
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AK: It has been said that now there are more Japanese faculty members than
in the past who are being put on contracts.
DA: That makes things better? Quite the opposite. Putting more people in
insecure positions can hardly be called an improvement, unless you’re part of
the administration and want to be able to fire people at will ─ like, because
somebody’s getting too expensive. The point is, youʼre still making faculty
decisions based on economics, not qualifications.
DA: Learn Japanese. Learn how to read, write, and speak ─ all three. If you
learn how to speak, youʼll look cute, but reading and writing is where the
power is. Youʼll learn how to be persuasive in Japanese. Reading and writing is
the key. They are the “open sesame.”
DA: Sure. I wrote in Japanese only, and then it was proofread. But the original
book was in Japanese, and I wrote the English version afterwards. I wanted to
get the information out to a Japanese audience first because I was trying to
Chapter Five: Debito Arudou 87
appeal to them. And that book has sold more Japanese copies than the English
version.
AK: Do you have any advice for people who are studying Japanese?
DA: Be naturally curious. If you see a sign and donʼt know what it means, look
it up. Keep a notebook of kanji (“Chinese characters”) that youʼre learning.
Learn Japanese in context. I donʼt learn words in lists. For example, when we
had children, I learned all of the words that had to do with pregnancy and
childbirth because I needed to understand what was going on.
For an hour a day, say that youʼre going to study Japanese. Consider it
like exercising or eating your broccoli at dinner. Youʼve got to learn Japanese
to live here. Why do you think that illiteracy is seen by the United Nations as
one of the fundamental ways for people to be trapped in poverty? How can you
live in this society and be illiterate? You canʼt. Iʼm not talking about reading
The Tale of Genji in classical Japanese. Iʼm talking about being able to read a
road sign, a menu, or a newspaper. Watch the news or listen to it on a podcast.
You donʼt need to understand everything, but total immersion is eventually
going to rub off on you.
DA: I’ve come to see how things work better over here. Now, when I go to the
U.S., I see people who donʼt clean up after themselves ─ who donʼt leave things
as they found them. I say to myself, “Whatʼs wrong here?” I understand now
how to organize a project. When thereʼs a goal to be accomplished, in Japan,
everyone volunteers to do different tasks. I slide into that very easily, but I
couldnʼt before.
Iʼve become more positive about life in general. It doesnʼt affect me
anymore when people are negative. Theyʼre not helping anybody ─ least of all
themselves. Japan has made me a better person. Plus, my memory has gotten
a lot better because you have to memorize a lot of kanji and Japanese words.
Japan has made me more organized and my life more fulfilling. I don’t regret
one bit the life I’ve chosen to lead here.
89
Chapter Six
Daniel Kahl
Daniel Kahl is a famous television personality and reporter in Japan. His appeal
comes at least in part from what seems like a contradiction: he sports blond hair
and blue eyes, which fits a longstanding stereotypical image in Japan of
Americans, but at the same time, he speaks extraordinarily fluent Japanese ─ not
only in the standard Tokyo dialect but also in that of Yamagata, a largely rural
region in northern Japan where Westerners are sparse. Mr. Kahl brings a folksy
optimism to his views on life in Japan, and his opinions are infused with respect
and caring for the Japanese people. While other Westerners have preceded Mr.
Kahl in breaking into television, few have done it for so long, and none have done
it while speaking the Yamagata dialect.
Daniel Kahl: Iʼm from California in the United States, and Iʼve lived in Japan for
twenty-nine years. I first came to Japan as a student ─ twice. I graduated from
college and went up to Yamagata on the English Fellows Program, which is
now the JET Program. I did that for three years, met a very nice young lady,
and we got married.
Then I decided to try business, so I became a salesman in a Tokyo ad
agency for a couple of years. When I was 25, I started my own translation and
publishing company. Just around the end of the Bubble Economy was when I
first started working on TV. Back then, they were just looking for the odd
foreigner. And I was born odd, I suppose, because I learned my Japanese out
in the country and spoke pretty strong Yamagata dialect. I still do, but I save it
for when I go back to Yamagata. At first, I did a few reporting jobs on TV, and
they said, “Hey, this guy can do this.” In the beginning, I thought Iʼd just do it
90
for fun. I could show the video to my friends when they came over. Then it
started turning into a job. I was on quiz shows and other programs. Iʼve now
been working in the Japanese TV industry for twenty-one years.
DK: Itʼs a lot of fun. I get to travel all over Japan and see the culture, which is
what I want to do with my time anyway. If I were independently wealthy, I
wouldnʼt work, but Iʼd be doing the same thing. Iʼd be visiting fishing and
mountain villages, checking out their festivals, and seeing what the local
cuisine is all about. And Iʼd go to all of those hot springs! Also, Iʼm an
engagement speaker all over the country. There arenʼt many foreigners who
do that.
DK: If I were to choose one thing, I would say itʼs the fact that they love to
laugh. And theyʼre highly educated, so their sense of humor is actually quite
sophisticated. Some of it goes way over my head ─ especially the puns. I think
that is what, on a very instinctual level, drew me here to live as long as I have.
A lot of people judge the Japanese to be negative or fatalistic. And that is one
component of the culture. But I look on the bright side. They laugh as much ─
if not more ─ than any other nationality on the planet. Itʼs fun to be surrounded
by laughter.
DK: I first came in high school, so thatʼs 32 years ago, and Iʼve basically been
here ever since. Iʼve seen a lot of changes. In a sound bite, economically,
things have changed drastically. Thirty years ago, you had the concept of the
daikokubashira, which is the “main pillar” of the family, or the man who was the
breadwinner. He could support six people out in the country: not only his wife,
but his two kids getting ready to go to college, and his mother and father as
well. The big cities may have been different. But one income could support a
Chapter Six: Daniel Kahl 91
family of six without needing to borrow money, and they had a nice house and
a car. It wasnʼt easy, but it was doable.
Now, I see six-person households where five of the people have an income,
and they still say that they donʼt have enough. So the economy has changed,
but that has led to changes in everyoneʼs attitude about what is enough or who
is wealthy. Theyʼve lost their sense of optimism about the future. A lot of
things led to that: the double oil shock in the 1970s, the bursting of the Bubble
Economy in the late 1980s and early 1990s, and the Lost Decade of the 90s.
Finally, we were just about to see everything perk up and go, and then Wall
Street pulled the rug out from under everybody with the subprime loan and
credit crisis.
One of the things that drew me here was the laughter. This combination
of positivity and fatalism, which are seeming opposites and attracted me so
much, is leaning a little towards the negative and pessimistic because of
something that is beyond everyoneʼs control. Thankfully, Japanese culture is
very resilient: itʼs been around a lot longer than capitalism. In my speeches, Iʼm
trying to encourage people not to forget the good stuff in Japan.
DK: I think that being a foreigner here can work both ways. It really depends
on the personʼs attitude towards his status here and how long he figures that
he will be here. I liked Japan from the start, and I thought this is a country
where I could live. I didnʼt come here with the intention of immigrating. In
fact, I still have U.S. citizenship, but my wife is Japanese and my son is a dual
national.
My attitude was, “If Iʼm going to be here for a long time, then Iʼd better
learn the rules and go with the flow.” That is something which a lot of
foreigners donʼt do. They want to transplant their sense of human rights,
common decency, and everything else over here. And I think itʼs a bit arrogant
to think that you can transplant ever ything from your culture into another
country.
Think about Americaʼs history with immigration. The Germans were the
largest immigrant group in the United States. By the second generation, they
92
all spoke English really well. The Irish and Italians did, too. Now, we have the
Hmong, Vietnamese, Hispanics, and large influxes of Chinese. In 25 years, all
of their kids are going to be doctors and lawyers. Thatʼs the immigrant
experience: weʼll bitch and moan along the way, but eventually, weʼll blend in.
I figured an advantage of me being a foreigner was that I was unusual
wherever I went. People would stop and stare. Now that bugs the heck out of
a lot of people, but I figured, “Iʼd better get used to this.” I came here 32 years
ago, and I lived out in the country for the first five or six. It didnʼt make any
difference how much I tried to blend in ─ little kids were going to stop and
stare. I almost caused several car accidents because people would be driving
and looking at me. Thatʼs a disadvantage of being a foreigner ─ you stick out
like a sore thumb.
The advantage of being a foreigner is that people remember you. Iʼve
been a businessman for some 25-odd years, and I know that having people
remember you is an advantage. You hand out your name card, and you try to
sell them something. If they canʼt remember your name and your face, youʼre
going to have to visit these guys 100 times before they buy anything. I was a
salesman, so being a foreigner and speaking Yamagata dialect really made me
stick out. So I was able to use my disadvantages to my advantage, perhaps.
Some people say, “Oh, I want to be treated just like everybody else.” I
donʼt understand why everyone expects that. Immigrants are never treated
just like everybody else in any country. People who come to America are not
treated like Americans right from day one. So I donʼt expect everybody here
to accept me as just another person in the neighborhood.
Youʼve got to do the best that you can with the assets or cards youʼre dealt.
Iʼve been able to use my assets effectively, I think, in Japan. My company is
doing OK. Iʼve got a nice wife and kid. Iʼm successful and pretty healthy. Iʼve
got no complaints.
So there are advantages of being a gaijin. I hesitate to use that word. A
lot of people donʼt like that word, but it never really bugged me much ─ Iʼve
been called it for 30 years. I think it depends more on how they say it.
AK: So youʼre saying itʼs more about how you perceive things than whether or
not something is inherently advantageous or a disadvantageous?
Chapter Six: Daniel Kahl 93
DK: Iʼm a positive thinker. Iʼm not Tom Cruise, but Iʼm not going to complain
because Iʼm not handsome. This is what Iʼve got, so Iʼm going to use this mug
on TV as best I can. I wouldnʼt say that being a foreigner here is a
disadvantage at all.
But this is where you get into race. Being a Caucasian foreigner is a lot
easier than being black or Asian. Japan is not going get to the point of racial
equality for another 50 or 100 years because they just donʼt have enough non-
Japanese people. There are a lot of Koreans and Chinese, and theyʼre all doing
their best to blend in. Theyʼre not really treated like foreigners so much. In
fact, many of them are respected because they bring skills with them that a lot
of Japanese like. But America is just getting to the point where it can start
dealing with racial stereotypes. We have a ter rible histor y of racial
discrimination in the U.S.
When I came here, I was worried how Iʼd be treated because Iʼm not
Japanese. The worst was that people would stare at me. At first, it was a little
uncomfortable. But thatʼs not racial prejudice ─ itʼs just curiosity. Iʼd stare,
too, if I were them. So I was able to deal with that, no problem.
I didnʼt really have anybody swear at me or call me names. Well, in later
years, I did. I wouldnʼt say they were blatant racists though. Once, a drunk
guy came up to me on a station platform when I was with another American
guy and a Japanese woman. We were waiting for the train. I was a little
sauced, too. This guy was probably upset that a couple of foreign guys were
with a Japanese girl. He was drunk as a skunk and started mouthing off. I
tried to ignore him, but he didnʼt stop. I told him to shut up and stop calling us
names, and he grabbed me. This is when having taken judo classes really
kicked in. I wasnʼt really thinking about it, but boom, I put this guy on the
ground. I said, “Oh, Iʼm sorry,” and he replied, “Wow, you know judo.”
I answered, “I do.”
So he came back and said, “You know something, you really woke me up.
I assumed that you couldnʼt speak Japanese, so I could say whatever I wanted
to you and you wouldnʼt react. What I said was wrong.”
This guy wasnʼt a blatant racist ─ he was just drunk and thought he was
being funny when he wasnʼt. He sounded like a racist, but then he apologized.
94
DK: I would say it is open to foreigners, but itʼs not open to mass immigration.
Also, with Japan being an island nation, immigration here has always been a
trickle. We donʼt have a big land border with any country. Geographically
speaking, it limits the influx.
Weʼre going to need to come up with a good framework for dealing with
economic refugees. Then again, because Japan is so different from so many
other societies, there isnʼt going to be a huge influx of people who want to
settle here permanently. There are, though, a lot of people who would like to
work here for five or ten years. Maybe the government could come up with a
guest worker program. People could work here and then go back home, or
they could choose to stay and go through a rigorous citizenship test. The
government will come up with a clear policy, but now, the laws are vague.
So Iʼd say Japan is open to foreigners to a cer tain extent. They are
extremely friendly and have this great curiosity about foreigners. Lafcadio
Hearn wrote about this during the Meiji Period. Whether or not they are
willing to accept you as a neighbor depends on you, the foreigner, more than
anything else.
DK: Itʼs the immigrant experience: if you move into somebodyʼs neighborhood
and you remain aloof, then they will think that you are just transient. For
instance, if you donʼt say “Ohayo gozaimasu” (“Good morning”) to the old ladies
and the old men, or you donʼt offer to help sweep the street, then theyʼll think,
“Heʼs not going to be here forever.” So theyʼll treat you nicely, and theyʼll be
very polite, but theyʼre not going to try to become a good friend.
It takes a long time to be accepted here. Youʼre not accepted just because
you have a pulse. Thatʼs true in many countries. If you want to be accepted in
the Hamptons in New York, youʼve got to act like one of the Hamptonians. If
you want to be accepted in the barrios of Los Angeles, then youʼve got to act
like a bro. If you want to be accepted, then they have to reciprocate, but the
bulk of the ef for t has to come from you ─ whoever has moved into the
Chapter Six: Daniel Kahl 95
neighborhood.
Out in the country, which everyone says is very closed, is really very open ─
more so than the city. The problem is that most foreigners who come to Japan
donʼt see anything but the big cities because thatʼs where the jobs are and
where they hang out. They come to Tokyo, and they think that Tokyo is Japan.
But Tokyo is only Tokyo. Japan is a whole separate entity. People out in the
country are not as jaded or tired. They have a little more time to sit down and
try to figure you out. People in the city are always running on a tight schedule,
and they donʼt have time to worry about the foreignerʼs problems. Iʼd say that
the country is a lot better than the city when it comes to accepting foreigners.
AK: Do you feel like foreigners are accepted as masters or leaders in your
field?
DK: Iʼm considered the master in my company because Iʼm the president.
When it comes to the mass media industry, I wouldnʼt say that Iʼm a master by
any stretch because I donʼt make decisions on programming. I get plugged in.
When they need a foreign reporter to go somewhere, then I give them a
different perspective. There are only a few foreign TV commentators who
have been around as long as I have. Iʼm a reporter, and within that small world,
Iʼd say Iʼm a leader ─ thanks to my age, I guess.
AK: So you would say that Japanese accept you as a leader among non-
Japanese TV commentators. How about compared to Japanese people who
appear in similar types of programs?
work all rank me in the top par t of their list of recommended speakers.
Everyone on that list does speeches in Japanese. So in that sense, Iʼm ranked
in the same way that my Japanese peers are in this industry.
But there is going to be a certain amount of separation because no matter
how hard I try, Iʼm not going to be able to speak Japanese quite as well as those
guys. And no matter how hard that they try, they are not going to be as weird
as me. I have a different perspective, and thatʼs why people like me. Ten
people could eat the same bowl of uni (“sea urchin”) and say 10 different
things. Mine is usually the one that is farthest out in left field. They think itʼs
interesting. So yes, Iʼm different, but Iʼm similar enough that Iʼm ranked in a
similar way.
DK: Yes, and thatʼs whatʼs led to my longevity. I am different, and in this
industry, being different is definitely an advantage. If youʼre not different, youʼre
not going to be in the industry for very long. A lot of people are like fireworks.
They shoot up in the sky, and boom, theyʼre beautiful for about six months. But
then they just fade away. I look at them and I say, “That guy was talented!
What happened to him?” For some reason, he didnʼt stand out enough. He
didnʼt make enough people remember his name. It happens more often with
women than it does with guys. Women have to be interesting, talkative,
somewhat intelligent, and drop-dead gorgeous, too. Or she has to be really
ugly in an interesting way. Itʼs a weird industry.
AK: You speak Japanese ver y fluently. How are your reading and writing
skills?
accepted. I hate to say it, but there are a lot of foreigners who complain, “Iʼm
not accepted in society!” Thatʼs because you canʼt read the sign that explains
how to put out your garbage. And people get mad at you for mixing cans with
bottles. Simple as it may seem, those are the little things that get the
neighbors angry. Iʼve made my mistakes, too, but Iʼm functional.
AK: How would you like Japan to change in terms of how Americans and other
foreigners are viewed?
DK: Iʼve already seen attitudes change in the last 30 years. When I got here,
most foreigners were thought to be Americans. The Japanese have come to
the realization that there is more than one foreign country out there.
When I first got here, Americans were treated with a lot of respect for
myriad reasons. First, they were the conquerors in World War II. But I think
more than that, they were the saviors to a certain degree after the war. There
are some people who are never going to forgive the U.S. for dropping a couple
of big bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But after the war finished,
Americans came in with food and economic aid. Maybe some of it was for
selfish reasons. We were headed into the Cold War and needed a buffer
countr y which was on our side right of f the coast of Asia ─“the per fect
unsinkable aircraft carrier”─ I believe Prime Minister Nakasone called it some
years later. It was a very controversial expression.
Older people, especially, had a lot of respect for the United States when I
got here, and they still do. Younger people today donʼt remember any of this,
and they donʼt have much contact with older people, so they donʼt have the
same respect or deference towards Americans as their parents or their
grandparents. But younger people these days are much more open-minded
about Americans. Theyʼre much more likely to look at the individual. They
are also more likely to judge Americans by whoever is president at that
particular moment. Sometimes that can be an advantage, and sometimes you
really want to start calling yourself Canadian. But generally speaking, there is
still a certain amount of respect, though itʼs not as automatic as it was 30 years
ago.
With that said, how do I want things to change from now on? Japanese
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culture is beginning to shift in a good way towards individualism. The U.S. has
gone a little too far in that direction, but Americans are starting to get more
into community relations and beginning to realize that unhindered
individualism is perhaps not the best thing for the future. There is a lot more
individualism in Japan compared to the past, especially among young people.
They still conform to certain norms, and they do it willingly for the most part
to maintain social harmony. But you can really stand out if you want to, so in
that sense, they are becoming more and more like Americans. Thatʼs a good
thing, as an American, because the two cultures are getting closer. Theyʼre
never going to be exactly the same, though. I wouldnʼt want them to be the
same ─ it would take away all of the fun of being here.
Something Iʼd really like to see change in Japan is the attitude towards
women. Iʼd like to see equal pay for equal work. Iʼd like people to overcome
sexual harassment. Thereʼs a lot of abuse here and other problems which are
not really spoken about. And itʼs one of the big issues that Japan will have to
face in the next decade or so.
As an American, Iʼd like to see a lot more open discussion and debate in
general. Thatʼs the biggest cultural difference, I think, between Japanese
people and Americans. Americans will talk about anything until theyʼre blue in
the face. Theyʼll step on all kinds of toes, but the good thing is that everything
comes out. And people start to say, “Oh, I see your point.” Once people sort of
understand each other, they can solve problems by talking about them.
Japanese folks still have a lot of taboos ─ things that they donʼt talk about in
“polite company.” They still have a little problem accepting Chinese and
Korean people, but thatʼs changing, too. It is all very fluid, and I think that
things will improve over the next decades.
AK: Are there any other changes which youʼd like to see?
DK: Iʼd like to see Japan clarify its immigration laws ─ for example, who can
become a Japanese citizen, how long it takes, and what hoops they need to
jump through to get there. They have to make the rules clear so that thereʼs
no ambiguity. Right now, each immigration case is decided on a case-by-case
basis.
Chapter Six: Daniel Kahl 99
I donʼt really think that Japan should change that much in terms of its
attitudes towards foreigners. Like taking foreignersʼ fingerprints at the airport ─
there are a lot of countries that do it. If it keeps out one terrorist or burglar, Iʼll
give them my toe prints. I really donʼt care. It takes all of three seconds.
People say, “Whoa, they donʼt do that in my country!” But theyʼd better check
that out. They donʼt do it when you go back to your country, but they probably
do it to the foreigners who come to your country. Americans are the loudest
ones about this. They do the same thing to foreigners over there.
DK: Living in Japan has taught me the value of respecting other peoplesʼ
thinking even more than I did when I was in America. I was brought up to say,
“Hey, youʼre an individual. You can say what you want.” As Patrick Henry said,
“I may disagree violently with what you say, but I will fight to the death for your
right to say it.”
Over here, a lot of people donʼt think like that at all. People have a right to
their opinion, but they also have to be socially responsible enough to say it
with a certain amount of decorum so they donʼt step on anyone elseʼs toes.
That took me many years to get used to. Iʼm a bit more careful with my words
now, and I value social harmony. It sounds very clichéd, but itʼs true.
You can see it all around you. There are 12 million people in Tokyo, and
theyʼre on top of each other all day long on the buses and trains. There is so
much noise. If you crammed as many Americans into this small a space, there
would be utter chaos. Americans have bigger territorial bubbles, and they are
not as conscious of other peoplesʼ feelings. They spout off at each other more.
And I think youʼd see more violence. Tokyo is a really peaceful city. There are
incidents, but there is no city in the world where there arenʼt. Considering the
population density of this place, itʼs a miracle that they donʼt have higher crime.
A lot of people in Japan think that it doesnʼt make any sense to cause
problems for others. You have to suppress a little bit of your individuality, but
the advantages outweigh the costs. As a 20-year-old American, I would have
never thought of that. I was participating in protest marches. When youʼre
young, though, you should have that spirit and individuality. You have to find
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your way. Now, Iʼm almost 50, and I tend to value harmony more than other
things. I like it safe. So thatʼs affected me a lot during my time in Japan.
AK: To summarize your approach, it sounds like you recommend that foreign
people living here adjust to Japan ─ that we learn the rules of the culture and
make an effort to fit in. If we make those efforts, can we be accepted?
DK: Yes, I think that a foreigner who comes here and makes the effort can
definitely be accepted. If you feel that youʼre not, then youʼve already got a
chip on your shoulder to begin with. I wouldnʼt say that youʼre not trying hard
enough, but youʼve got a ways to go. For example, do you remember the
incident in Hokkaido when the Japanese public bath owners had a “No
Foreigners” sign up in front of their buildings? I guess two or three foreign
folks got really upset about that, and they sued the place. Why would you sue
them? Why donʼt you go talk to those people? Tell them, “Look, Iʼm a
foreigner. But Iʼm not going to tear your place up. Could you take down that
sign?”
Then, the Japanese might have explained that they werenʼt doing it to
keep out all foreigners, but to keep out the drunk Russian sailors who were
causing trouble in the first place. I donʼt know all of the details, but these
foreigners thought that they were making a political and legal statement. It
could have been made very effectively, though, without embarrassing that city
or the public bath owners. The foreigners were trying to change the law, but it
was a pretty confrontational way to do so. I can almost guarantee that those
foreigners are going to have a hard time being accepted by the Japanese in
general. A lot of Japanese can sympathize with what they were saying, but if
you get too confrontational, it wonʼt work.
AK: So youʼre saying itʼs important to work within the system in a Japanese
way?
DK: Yes. I donʼt have to be “in your face” about anything anymore. Iʼve always
been able to say, “This isnʼt going to fly,” but I do it over a cup of sake with
somebody. I can get people to see my point of view without being too
Chapter Six: Daniel Kahl 101
Chapter Seven
Michael Bondy
Adam Komisarof: Can you tell me about your position within your current
company, Panache, as well as the type of business that you do?
Michael Bondy: My official title is managing director. Iʼve been with Panache
for eight years, and about three years ago, I became the managing director.
We were purchased by a large Japanese company just over one year ago, and I
currently run Panache along with a Japanese gentleman from our parent
company. While we work together closely on this, he is more focused on the
parent company, and Iʼm in charge of Panacheʼs overall operation and direction.
Panache has approximately 60 regular employees and about 80 to 90 temporary
staff members, depending on the month and the market. We work around two
key words ─ one is “IT” and the other is “bilingual.” So if any of our clients are
looking for services related to those two key words, then we can supply them.
For example, if a company needs an engineer, we can find them one who is
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AK: And what have you been doing in Japan since 1997?
MB: I met a Japanese man in Toronto who owned a chain of juku (“cram
schools”) and English schools in Kanagawa. I didnʼt really want to come back
to Japan as an English teacher, so I asked him if I could manage his English
schools, which was kind of funny because Iʼd never taught a day of English in
my life. All of a sudden, I was managing four English schools. Really, my goal
was to get into the Japanese business world, not to be an English teacher.
Then I started running the English language program for about 250
employees at a company called AT&T Jens ─ a domestic arm of AT&T Japan at
the time. This gave me the opportunity to be really inside a Japanese company.
There were about 10 -15% foreigners, but still, people worked long hours like in
any typical Japanese company back then.
In 2002, I got married to my wife, who is Japanese. We decided to move
back to Canada for a couple of years for me to return to school and her to study
English. Then, her father had a stroke just before we left, so we cancelled our
plans to live in Canada. I had already quit my job, so I had to look for a new
one. I interviewed at Panache and started here in December, 2002. I began in
Chapter Seven: Michael Bondy 105
AK: What are the nationalities of the people you work with?
MB: The honesty. In most cases, if you ask for something to get done, itʼs
going to get done properly. You donʼt have to worry about receiving something
that is not of the quality that you are expecting. I also like the fact that people
work together in teams, but in the same respect, sometimes that can be a
hindrance. For everything I like here, thereʼs a flipside to it as well.
When a lot of people describe my character, though they may be half-
joking, they say that I am very Japanese. In that sense, I get along and work
easily with Japanese people ─ sometimes more than foreigners. Iʼm not a very
confrontational person, which is also true about most Japanese people, so that
seems to work well with my staff.
Iʼve gotten to the point where Iʼve been here for so long now that I donʼt
really think of things as good or bad, as Japanese or not Japanese. This is just
the way it is. On the other hand, if I went back to Canada, I have no idea what I
would do. Iʼd probably be in complete shock. Here in Japan, Iʼm comfortable
with my lifestyle, how I work, everything.
106
AK: Is there anything else about your personality that meshes really well with
Japanese people?
MB: I think that I listen a lot. Many people say that Japanese donʼt like to talk
much ─ they like to listen. The person who talks the most is the one that
people donʼt listen to. In America or Canada, though, if youʼre not aggressive,
then you wonʼt be heard. In meetings, I prefer that other people also speak as
opposed to just me.
MB: The idea of being patient, or gaman, has gone. Employees used to fit the
image of the “salar yman” who works for the same company from college
graduation to retirement. Now, the whole concept of lifetime employment is
disintegrating. There are also many more women in the workplace, people are
losing their jobs, and the pension system is breaking down. People can no
longer think, “Thereʼs nothing to worry about ─ Iʼll be taken care of.” They
need to start thinking about themselves.
Chapter Seven: Michael Bondy 107
AK: It sounds like you feel more comfortable about the way Japan was 10 or 15
years ago compared to now.
MB: Yes, in most cases. I was the leader of some of the teams that I joined.
Part of the reason, I think, is because I got heavily involved. There were a lot
of meetings, and I wasnʼt put off by that. So I think people were quite receptive
to working closely with me, and the teams were successful. I was in my late
twenties back then, as were my team members, and they all wanted to work
hard, so I think I was accepted because I had the same attitude.
Working with my current parent company is actually a bigger struggle in
terms of getting accepted. We have about eight or nine group companies, and
all of the managers are Japanese men in their forties to their sixties. Iʼm the
only Caucasian and also comparatively young at 38. I speak Japanese fairly
well, but in that group, itʼs difficult because the language they use is different
from what I hear at Panache. So sometimes I get totally lost.
MB: No, some people just arenʼt interested in talking to me. I stick out because
I speak a different language and look different. When I go to a party with
these 50 or 60 Japanese managers who are all men ─ no women ─ itʼs a little
awkward. Also, among these member companies, Panache is quite different.
Weʼre more focused on foreign businesses, while most of the group is focused
on Japanese ones. If Panache could do something for them, then there would
probably be more interest in my company and me, so Iʼd feel more accepted.
That said, sometimes being different can be to my advantage. There are
some events that I donʼt necessarily have to be involved with, while Japanese
people canʼt get out of them. If I have somewhere else that I have to be, I can
say so, but many Japanese canʼt. With anything in Japan, if you just look at the
negative, youʼll drive yourself crazy. So you have to take the good with the bad,
and in the end, it comes out just fine.
MB: My acceptance is simple: Iʼve been here a long time in my position. There
are people who like me and those who donʼt, which is fine ─ thatʼs going to
happen anywhere. Overall, I have a certain amount of knowledge that Iʼve built
at Panache, and Iʼm in a position where people have to accept me at some level.
Speaking Japanese also helps. I probably speak more Japanese than
English within the company, even with foreigners in the room. It makes a lot
of my Japanese workers comfortable that they can speak to me in Japanese.
Obviously, sometimes there is miscommunication, but they donʼt have to
struggle in English all of the time. My rule about which language to use with
me is very simple: in person or over the phone, Japanese is fine, but email is in
English. I can generally read email in Japanese, but I prefer it in English. If I
am sent email in Japanese, then I respond in English. If I had to write in
Japanese, it would take too much time.
Also, I have a calm demeanor. Iʼm not always yelling and screaming or
really confrontational. There are negative parts to that as well. For some
people, it would be a lot easier if Iʼd say, “This is how weʼre doing it, now go!”
AK: How receptive are your Japanese employees to being led by a non-
Chapter Seven: Michael Bondy 109
Japanese?
AK: Besides the language barrier, are there any other reasons why some of
your Japanese employees donʼt feel comfor table working with a foreign
manager?
MB: When people say that theyʼre not comfortable with a foreign manager, I
donʼt think it means that they dislike foreigners. Itʼs just an excuse because
their style clashes with their manager. If you join this company, you should
have known that your manager might be foreign. If I truly felt a Japanese
employee didnʼt want to work with someone just because they were not
Japanese, then weʼd probably discuss that Japanese person leaving the
company. Itʼs the same with women. If someone said, “I donʼt want to work for
a woman,” Iʼd say, “Then you donʼt want to work for Panache.”
AK: Would you say the same thing if a foreigner didnʼt want to work for a
Japanese manager?
MB: Yes, Iʼd be much stricter, simply because we are working in Japan. Itʼs a
huge double standard when Japanese people go to America to work and
Americans complain that they donʼt speak English well enough. How many
foreigners working in companies in Japan donʼt speak Japanese? The
percentage is so much higher than the number of Japanese who work in
America ─ or other Western countries ─ but donʼt speak English. With this in
mind, I donʼt accept when people say that they donʼt speak Japanese so they
110
canʼt get along with their Japanese manager. The foreigner needs to find a way
to communicate. When I worked at AT&T Jens, the reason my Japanese
improved was that my boss didnʼt speak to me in English. To get my job done,
I needed to learn to speak Japanese. If you want to live in Japan, thatʼs part of
the challenge.
AK: Are Japanese working in North America treated differently than North
Americans in Japan?
MB: I probably got a lot more of this treatment 10 years ago when I was
younger, but people help you everywhere you go. If you look lost, someone
will come and give you directions. In business, when thereʼs a problem, if the
client company is Japanese, they will usually be a little more forgiving towards
a foreigner than another Japanese person. They might tone down their
complaint. Also, in negotiations, foreigners sometimes have an advantage: we
can be assertive because of the way we were brought up and it is accepted
more easily.
There are also many difficult things about being a foreigner, such as
renting an apar tment or buying a house. But with anything, I think
perseverance is important. If youʼre living in a foreign country and you get
rejected once, you shouldnʼt say, “This country is bad.” Think about a Japanese
person living in Canada. If they tried to do the same thing, what would the
Chapter Seven: Michael Bondy 111
AK: When you experience difficulties in Japan, do you often deal with them by
comparing your situation to that of a Japanese person in Canada?
MB: Yes, and then I realize that itʼs not so bad in Japan. Itʼs easy to focus on
feeling rejected in the moment, but if you turn the tables, what would be the
outcome? It would often be the same or worse. So I try to remember what
Canada is like for foreigners and remember the good things in Japan. For all
of the difficulties, how many times have people helped me? If you only look at
the negative, you will go down a really bad path.
MB: Of course, it depends on the people and the situation, but Iʼve always felt
that Japanese are open to foreigners ─ sometimes in a curious, silly way. Ten
years ago in the countryside, Iʼd have 30 kids following me down the street.
People would come up to me just to speak English. Also, as more Japanese
people go abroad, this helps them to be more open. Iʼve had no experiences
that I can remember in which I felt like I was really negatively treated because
Iʼm a foreigner. I can remember a lot of good experiences.
112
AK: Was one of those when you became a member of the baseball team in
college?
MB: Yes, definitely. I didnʼt want to play, but one of the team managers came
up to me while I was watching a game and asked, “Do you play baseball?” I
said yes, and she asked me to join the team. I thought Iʼd need to try out, but
this was one of my first lessons about Japan: it doesnʼt matter how good or bad
you are ─ if you want to join a team or group, you can. But when you do, you
take on a certain role on the team, like the younger players cleaning up after
the older ones. That was my best experience in my year here at university. I
learned so much about Japan. There were few English speakers, and it was a
very traditional Japanese team.
AK: What were the keys to being readily accepted in that group?
MB: During the games when I wasnʼt pitching, I did whatever the players on
the bench were to help the manager, like picking up stray balls and cheering
the team. There was an American on the team who was very good, but he had
a couple of bad games and was benched. He couldnʼt deal with it, so he quit.
Everyone else, though, was cheering when they were on the bench. It was
incredible! It reminded me of playing when I was in elementar y school.
Everyone was really into the game while it was happening, and afterwards, we
watched the game video. We all focused together. I was really sad to leave
after the year finished.
MB: When I didnʼt speak the language well, I had a lot of difficulties. I was
single then, so I had to rely on people a lot to help me or do things on my own,
which was a challenge. Now is a lot easier. And when I donʼt understand whatʼs
going on, thatʼs just part of my life here.
AK: How have Japanese views of foreign cultures and people changed while
youʼve been here?
Chapter Seven: Michael Bondy 113
MB: People are more open to English and want to be more involved in the
internationalization of Japan. Hosting the Nagano Olympics and the World
Cup helped.
AK: How would you like the treatment of foreign people to change in Japan?
MB: Iʼd like Japanese to get away from the shock of seeing a foreigner and the
pure confusion that it can sometimes create. For example, Japanese people are
so surprised if I have an inkan shoumeisho (“a verification card to prove the
authenticity of oneʼs name seal”). They assume that a foreigner would never
have one. Iʼd like to get to the point where it doesnʼt matter whether youʼre
Japanese or a foreigner ─ you can live the same life.
Now there are certain rights that I believe only a citizen should have ─ for
example, voting. Iʼm a permanent resident of Japan, but I accept that I donʼt
have the right to vote in national elections. If I want to vote, I should become a
citizen. But Iʼm very happy to be Canadian.
So whatever it is ─ buying a house, renting an apartment, getting a job ─ I
hope that everyone will be treated the same, and there will be no barriers for
foreigners in the future. In my industry, many companies want only a native
Japanese to fill open positions. But language is just one of many skills that a
worker needs to succeed. They could be a native Japanese person, but they
donʼt have to be. I can of fer a client an engineer who speaks advanced
Japanese and has other great professional skills, but they say, “No, itʼs got to be
a native Japanese.” Thatʼs one thing Iʼd like to see change.
MB: Maybe theyʼve had communication problems with a foreigner in the past.
Something I hope will change is that one bad experience with a foreigner wonʼt
impact everything else from that time on. For every negative experience theyʼve
had with a foreigner, I guarantee theyʼve had just as many with other Japanese
people ─ probably more, because there are a lot more Japanese people here.
So Iʼd really like to see people stop avoiding foreigners based on one bad
experience. Then again, thatʼs not just in Japan. It happens everywhere ─
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AK: Youʼre saying itʼs a double standard because there are no Japanese
companies saying, “We donʼt want to hire Japanese because weʼve had some
negative experiences with them.” But they might say that they donʼt want to
hire foreigners for the same reason. Is that right?
AK: You want Japanese companies to have an open mind towards hiring
foreigners as long as they have the skills necessary for the job at hand.
MB: Yes, Iʼd like Japanese companies not to close the door on people just
because theyʼre foreign. Another example is Japanese women. Things are
changing, but some years ago, many companies would not hire a woman full-
time in a “career” job. There were so many talented women that were losing
opportunities. Companies would say, “Oh, sheʼs 27, so sheʼll probably quit in a
few years to start a family.” About foreigners theyʼd say, “Heʼs probably going
to return home, so weʼll hire only Japanese people because they will be here
forever.” Thatʼs all changing ─ slowly ─ but it will take time.
AK: Do you have any advice for people who are new to Japan about how to
succeed here?
Chapter Seven: Michael Bondy 115
MB: I truly appreciate the opportunities that Iʼve had in Japan. I donʼt think Iʼve
gotten them because Iʼm a foreigner, and I donʼt think Iʼve lost anything either
because Iʼm a foreigner. These opportunities have come because Iʼve worked
hard and had a positive attitude. There are definitely plenty of opportunities as
a foreigner if you work hard. Itʼs also important to be patient. Do not expect
things to be handed to you.
The best advice that I got before I came to Japan was from a friend of my
grandfatherʼs who had lived in Japan for 30 years. His advice was only about
food, but it translated to everything else: “Before you eat, donʼt ask what it is.
Eat it, decide whether you like it or not, and then ask what it is.” So before you
do something, donʼt judge whether or not you will like it. Do it first and then
decide. If you have that attitude, youʼll be more successful.
Also, I watch people a lot. In Japan, you can stick out very quickly if you
do something really different from others. So when you are in a new or
uncertain situation, watch what Japanese people do and then follow them. If
you do that, youʼre always going to be safe. Eventually, that behavior will come
naturally when youʼre on your own.
Finally, when you get off the plane, donʼt say, “Iʼm here. Look at me.
Accept me!” Thatʼs a big mistake. When you get off the plane, look around,
see how things work, and try to figure out how to fit in. Some people say that
youʼll lose your individuality by doing that, but they decided to come to Japan.
If you choose to come here, it is important to understand the place and adjust.
If you just want to be exactly the same as you were in Canada or America, then
it might not work out very well.
117
Chapter Eight
Paul Snowden
Paul Snowden: Iʼm from England. I was born in the city of Derby. I arrived in
Japan for the first time in April, 1969. If you subtract the few years that Iʼve
been out, then Iʼve lived here about 33 years. Twenty-six of those years Iʼve
spent as a full-time teacher at Waseda University.
AK: You wrote in an Asahi Shimbun newspaper article (Snowden, 2006, August
31) that you were the first foreign person in Japan to assume a deanship at a
major Japanese university. Have there been any other non-Japanese nominated
to similar posts since you took office in 2006?
PS: Iʼm still the only person to be the dean of a faculty, but several others have
been named to slightly lower positions. Itʼs worth adding that in 1998 I was the
118
PS: It signifies that it is possible to do it, and once that hurdle has been leapt
over, then it doesnʼt make that much difference. I hope that it also signifies
that attitudes towards appointing foreigners in the future will be more relaxed
and less neurotic.
PS: Itʼs a way of expressing the idea that Japanese people are not racist, but
they do have a presumed awareness of the uniqueness of their own culture.
Sometimes they might feel threatened, or at least uncertain, about the effects
of a non-Japanese person participating in such a hierarchy. But they are very
open to realizing that such worries were not necessary.
AK: What has been the key for you in allaying those fears?
PS: There are non-Japanese members of the university who try very hard to
impose their own cultural norms. Even if they donʼt try to impose them, they
try to live by them. I suppose an important thing is to accept that the cultural
norms are dif ferent and to act within them. It canʼt always work, and
Chapter Eight: Paul Snowden 119
sometimes you feel uncomfortable, but I think thatʼs it. Some people would
sneer at that and call it “going native,” but thatʼs not the idea. The idea is that
you wish to bring some benefit or to provide the channel whereby the talents
that you perceive to be your own can be delivered and absorbed into the
community where you are working.
PS: Iʼve been very happy here. I have a family here. Iʼve always been accepted
with kindness and friendship inside the university and in other places where Iʼve
worked. You can spout the usual clichés about Japan being a safe society and
prosperous, but itʼs difficult to specify one thing. Perhaps that does make me
rather Japanese. Iʼd just say “nantonaku” (“I like Japan, but I cannot explain
why.”).
PS: I never had to fight with anybody. I never experienced any direct
unpleasantness, although my present position, like that of any manager, seems
to attract opposition like flies. Of course, there have been people whom I like
and people whom I dislike, but there have been similar differences among my
foreign acquaintances here.
I do get silently impatient with the reluctance of Japanese people to
communicate openly outside their own circle of acquaintances. I donʼt like the
big difference in the way that Japanese people communicate very intimately
and frequently with people who they know ─ but seem to ignore the existence
120
of people they donʼt. Japanese will be ver y generous and polite with their
acquaintances or people who they think might be of some use to them;
whereas, if you are outside that category, you might as well not exist. Japan
claims to have abandoned feudal society ─ to have become an egalitarian
democracy. But those features do still remain.
PS: A long time ago, when I first came, there were advantages ─ when there
were fewer foreigners than there are now. It was very clear that certain kinds
of foreigners ─ in other words, Westerners ─ were made to feel welcome and
well-treated in terms of both politeness and indeed in terms of pay.
It also means sometimes people assume that you donʼt need to participate
in some of the hierarchical activities that affect the lives of Japanese. In the
place where I lived before, I joined the jichikai (“neighborhood residentsʼ
governance council”), and I became a representative for our area. But very
often, foreigners are permitted to be non-par ticipants in those social
hierarchies. Being foreign also certainly helps when using language. It means
that the foreigner is permitted a certain freedom of language use that might
not be acceptable to a Japanese person.
AK: Have you seen any changes in the acceptance of non-Japanese since 1969?
PS: Oh yes. Maybe itʼs just because Tokyo itself has become more
cosmopolitan. Forty years ago, it was not unknown for a group of little children
to follow you down the street. When I went to the Osaka Expo in 1970, I was
surrounded by groups of children who asked for my autograph and to be
photographed with me. If I went to a similar exposition now, I donʼt think that
would happen so much. So I think that Japanese society, at least Japanese
society in big cities, has become a little more accepting ─ perhaps blasé ─
about the presence of foreign people. For many years now, I havenʼt had the
reaction that I used to get in little shops: if I walked in, theyʼd automatically say,
“No English” before Iʼd spoken a word.
Chapter Eight: Paul Snowden 121
PS: We know from our experience in running this new school that there is still
some resistance among employers to take on foreign nationals ─ even though
theyʼve graduated from this school, which is officially recognized as part of
Waseda University. Sometimes the reason that companies give is that the
foreigners donʼt have enough Japanese language ability, but that strikes me
occasionally as only an excuse. On the other hand, there have been some
cases where companies have been even more accepting than I would have
expected. They have had a completely liberal and open approach to hiring
foreigners. So it depends. I canʼt say that there is one overriding tendency. It
goes both ways.
PS: Early on, it was almost unknown for there to be foreigners studying at
Japanese universities and wanting to take jobs anywhere in Japan afterwards.
So my speculation is that finding foreigners these jobs wouldnʼt have worked
as well as it does now.
PS: In the last six or seven years, Waseda has changed even more than people
think. It was because that change had already started that it became possible
for me to do what I am now doing. I suppose, in many ways, Japanese society
is also changing. Nowadays, you see Western-looking people working in
institutions like city offices and city halls, which previously you would never
have seen.
There was a long controversy about whether or not Japanese-born Korean
people could work in official posts. I think that public attitudes towards that
have changed a great deal, so there is nothing “wrong” with a Japanese-born
Korean working as a nurse in a national hospital or possibly becoming a
122
AK: You wrote in the Asahi Shimbun newspaper, “It is my aim to make the
Japanese/non-Japanese, or national/foreign, distinction, unnecessar y and
irrelevant.” Can you elaborate?
PS: That comes from our experience in running this school. When we started
it in 2004, we had a pretty revolutionary idea: we should have a generous quota
of non-Japanese students. And the quota was one-third of the student body. In
some European or American universities, that is quite normal. But here, itʼs
very, very high.
Soon after the school started, we noticed that the Japanese/non-Japanese
distinction was in some cases very hard to define. Because we were teaching
everything in English, we found that we were attracting young people with
Japanese passports, Japanese parents, and Japanese faces who had never lived
before in Japan. We had one young man in our first year who had been born,
bred, and educated throughout his life in New York, and he suddenly realized
at the age of 18 that this was his last chance to get an education in the country
of his nationality. He only came here because we could do it in English. He
wasnʼt sufficiently confident in Japanese. So do we regard him as part of our
Japanese quota or part of our foreign quota? Certainly from the point of view
of the education that we provided him in supplementary Japanese language
classes, we regarded him as part of the foreign quota.
We had a similar case a couple of years ago with a young Russian girl who
was blond and blue-eyed. She had come to live in the city of Kobe at the age of
three and had all of her education in Japan, so what she needed was the
opposite of the Japanese boy. In that respect, it is not only my aim to reduce
those distinctions, but itʼs actually pragmatically something thatʼs happened.
So nowadays we define our two categories of students in different ways. We
donʼt mention passports and nationalities. We mention which educational
system theyʼve come through.
AK: How does your school fit into Waseda Universityʼs organizational
Chapter Eight: Paul Snowden 123
structure?
AK: Are you unique among Wasedaʼs schools in terms of your educational
approach and student demographics?
AK: You describe the distinction between Japanese and non-Japanese losing its
relevance in terms of predicting your studentsʼ educational backgrounds and
needs. In terms of your personal identity, do you find a blurring of this
Japanese/non-Japanese distinction as you live longer in Japan?
PS: I suppose so. I havenʼt spent much time analyzing it. I know, for example,
it would be easy for me to go to the local city hall and say, “I want to become
Japanese,” and theyʼd let me. I already have permanent residency. If anything
prevents me from doing so, itʼs that dual nationality is not permitted.
Otherwise, Iʼd be quite pleased to do it, which would give me a vote. I already
pay taxes.
AK: You wrote in your newspaper article that you feel more comfortable
running meetings in Japanese than in English.
PS: Yes, thatʼs simply a matter of personal experience. Iʼve never taken part in
a faculty meeting in an Anglophone educational institution. Therefore, I do feel
more comfortable with not only the language but also the cultural dynamics of
such a meeting. It doesnʼt mean, Iʼm afraid, that I always run meetings well or
that I think Iʼve completely lost or abandoned my own cultural background.
Obviously, the first 18 years of your life have a greater influence than the next
18.
124
PS: Yes.
AK: Would you say that your leadership style is similar to that of many
Japanese people?
PS: In many ways, yes ─ for example, in the ways that I ask people to do things
and elicit peoplesʼ agreement. Also, itʼs not good to get directly angry with
somebody. There are other ways of expressing your disapproval. Itʼs rather
difficult to analyze because I naturally do these things.
PS: I try to interact with members of the faculty and people in this office in a
way that is more light-hearted, egalitarian, and cheerful than you might expect
in a semi-feudal hierarchy. I try to be a little more demotic and open to people
of all ranks throughout the organization. Iʼm probably one of the few people in
the school who greets the cleaners.
AK: What advice can you give to non-Japanese trying to be accepted in the
organizations where they work?
PS: One thing, as Iʼve just said, is not to impose or attempt to impose your own
cultural norms when it comes to working inside an organization. More broadly
speaking in terms of coming to live in Japan, I would say, “Donʼt expect too
much.” Itʼs tempting to expect a high degree of prosperity and all that goes
with it, but Tokyo, especially, is very overcrowded. Some of the elements of
prosperity that Westerners might regard as automatic, such as a big house,
three garages, or a big garden, are not common. Donʼt expect too much in that
respect, but some things will exceed your expectations, like public transport.
The other thing would be not to expect too much in terms of the “myth of
Chapter Eight: Paul Snowden 125
the mysterious Orient.” Japan does have a vast wealth of ancient, extremely
exotic, and beautiful cultural heritage. But some people tend to come here
thinking thatʼs all that theyʼll find. Thatʼs not true. Iʼve known some people
who have come, expecting a Lafcadio Hearn-type land of mystery, and Iʼve seen
them go home very quickly. So the simple advice is to come with an open
mind.
PS: Not curiosity about Japan particularly, but just looking for a sort of spiritual
adventure for a while. I saw myself becoming an ordinary high school teacher
in England, so I decided that Iʼd have an adventure before I settled down. But I
never got to the “settled down” bit. I remember as a teenager seeing the men
in the neighborhood getting up at seven in the morning and taking a commuter
train into London. I thought to myself, “I never want to become such a person.”
And now, of course, Iʼm commuting further, longer, and in more crowded
conditions. Itʼs a bit of an irony. I was not one of those people who came here
with Lafcadio Hearn-style images.
AK: Are there any particular aspects of traditional Japanese culture which you
find interesting?
PS: Well, look at the racial tension in European nations. You see the
fragmentation of society into smaller religious and cultural groups so that
integration becomes difficult. The Japanese should look at these cases and
tread with care.
AK: Do you have any ideas about how Japan could avoid some of these
difficulties?
PS: Try to ensure that immigrants donʼt live in isolated communities. Try to
give them open and equal access to education and the other services of the
state, like health care. Try to make sure that they donʼt all sink to the lowest
Chapter Eight: Paul Snowden 127
AK: How is the treatment of non-Japanese in Japan different from how people
of Japanese descent are treated in England?
PS: People of Japanese descent in England are not mistreated. Theyʼre treated
with respect. Itʼs probably understood that most people of Japanese descent
who live in England will be there temporarily, as very few people live there
permanently. Perhaps thatʼs one way in which itʼs easier to treat Japanese
people with less suspicion. There are stereotypes of Japanese people as rich,
intelligent, and well-educated.
The question is not only how British society treats Japanese, but all sorts
of people. It is a big topic of debate. There are those who champion a
multicultural society and those who prefer isolationism. That includes some of
the ethnic communities inside England, too. Itʼs hard to make generalizations
about foreigners in Britain. Certainly, there are many more foreigners in
Britain than in Japan, so in that respect, they donʼt stand out so much. Outside
Tokyo, even if people donʼt look at you on the street, you know that youʼre
probably the only gaijin around. If you walk around the streets of England,
youʼll never find that sort of phenomenon. So there are many differences in
numbers.
129
Chapter Nine
Stephen Murphy-Shigematsu
Stephen Murphy-Shigematsu: Iʼm located in San Francisco and have been for a
few years. The focus of my work is education for cross-cultural understanding.
I do this in universities, hospitals, and government agencies like the U.S.
Marines and Navy. Iʼve also been teaching at Stanford University for about
seven years in the Center for Comparative Studies in Race and Ethnicity. One
of my classes is Transnational and Multiethnic Lives.
SMS: I do both. One book that Iʼm working on now will include people who
have spent their entire lives in Japan, as well as who have lived more
130
transnational lives moving between countries. Iʼm writing this book in English
but will publish also in Japanese.
SMS: I was born in Japan near the end of the U.S. Occupation. My mother is
Japanese and my father was first-generation Irish American. I grew up in the
United States, but I returned to Japan as an adult and naturalized as a Japanese
citizen in 1997.
SMS: At first, I was teaching English, and I realized that I didnʼt want to do that
as my career. So I went back to America and got a PhD at Har vard in
counseling and consulting psychology. When I came back to Japan, I worked
first at Temple University in Tokyo. Then, to my surprise, I was offered a
position at the University of Tokyo. The university was internationalizing as
part of then-Prime Minister Nakasoneʼs ambitious plan to bring 100,000 foreign
students to Japan by the year 2000. The University of Tokyo had nearly 2,000
international students and was building a system to provide educational
programs and advising services. I taught in the School of Education and also
directed a counseling service in the International Center. Though I mostly
taught and counseled in English, all of the work with my Japanese colleagues
and staff members was done in Japanese.
AK: At the University of Tokyo, did you feel like you were treated like a full
member of the organization?
SMS: Certainly not at first. I was not offered lifetime employment, as all
Japanese were, because I was an American citizen at the time. I wanted to be
Chapter Nine: Stephen Murphy-Shigematsu 131
hired under the same conditions as Japanese citizens and suggested that the
conditions offered me were discriminatory, but I was required to pass a review
after three years. Once I did that, I was given tenure.
The faculty directory has a short list in the back of the book of foreign
faculty members. My name was listed there. After I was there for a year or
two, I naturalized. Then, my name was moved to the Japanese section. The
people working in the administrative offices started treating me like the other
Japanese. Everything to them is by the book. By law, I was Japanese, so I was
now a Japanese person to them. That was kind of interesting to me. To my
other colleagues, the longer I worked with them, the more I became another
colleague. One of the reasons that I had wanted to work with the man who
recruited me to the university was because he always looked at me as a human
being before he saw a gaijin.
One of the questions I confronted was how much to play the Gaijin Card.
If you want to be Japanese, you need to go by the Japanese rules. And that can
be very restrictive. There were times when it was clearly to my advantage to
be the gaijin. An example would be summer vacation. My colleagues would
not take summer vacations, but I would. When summer came around, people
would assume that Iʼd go “home” to the U.S. to meet my family. So I didnʼt
always want to be treated just like the other Japanese faculty. In these cases, I
was seen as different and it was to my advantage.
AK: So you were balancing two dynamics: on one hand, you enjoyed the
benefits of being foreign, but on the other, you were expected to act according
to Japanese norms. Was that balance hard to achieve?
SMS: Iʼve been doing it all of my life as somebody who has been brought up
with different cultural backgrounds. In some ways it felt natural, but at other
times I was very aware of the pressure to behave according to Japanese norms.
I was also aware that there were limitations on how much I would ever be
accepted as Japanese. I think I was restricting my behavior more than I
realized at the time. Although I tr y to have a consistent personality, I do
express myself somewhat differently in America and Japan. For example,
lately, Iʼve gotten to be known as a bit of a comedian in my workshops in the
132
U.S. But that was never the case in Japan. I held myself back a lot more. I
donʼt think I was as interesting a public figure; I was more reser ved in my
behavior.
AK: As someone who has both a Japanese and a European American parent,
how are the issues that you face, in terms of being treated like a member of
Japanese society, different from those faced by Korean nationals or other
ethnocultural minorities that may be marginalized in Japan?
SMS: I feel strong similarities with the consciousness of some minority people
in Japan. There is a similar sense of “homelessness” that I feel among Zainichi
Koreans (“Korean nationals living in Japan”). We dwell in a place, but we do
not feel entirely at home either in Japan or in our “other” country ─ that is, in
my case, the countr y of origin (the U.S.) and in their case the countr y of
citizenship (North or South Korea).
On the other hand, there are major differences in our experiences. I was
raised in the U.S. and grew up with an idealistic vision of Japan. This is
completely different from minorities who grew up in Japan and idealized
Korea. Like many mixed-ancestry people, I am also highly visible by physical
appearance in Japan while most Zainichi Koreans are not. This means that I
am always distinguished as different in daily life while Zainichi Koreans are
not. This difference is also huge in terms of how we are treated, our ways of
thinking of our identities, and how we present ourselves in daily life.
I also think there is a great advantage and privilege to having European
American background. I rarely feel looked down upon. Usually, when people
make a judgment of me based on my appearance, it is a positive one. Also, the
expectations are low towards me for speaking Japanese: when I do, people
think that I speak better than I really can and donʼt hold me to the same
standard that they have for Japanese native speakers ─ or for people they think
“look Japanese.” So in these ways, my treatment is very positive.
But my appearance makes it harder for people to accept me as a full
member of Japanese society. Race is powerful, and like everyone, I am judged
by my physical appearance. It will probably not be in my lifetime that a lot of
Japanese can look at me and accept me as Japanese. I still think itʼs important
Chapter Nine: Stephen Murphy-Shigematsu 133
to remind them that I am Japanese and that people who look like me are also
Japanese. I hope that the popular image of who is Japanese and what a
Japanese looks like will gradually change.
People from other ethnic minority groups in Japan, however, may be
looked down upon in ways that I am not. So while I have some difficulties,
there are also a lot of advantages as well.
AK: Based on your appearance, what is different about your treatment in the
San Francisco area compared to Japan?
SMS: Itʼs dif ferent because my appearance is rarely a daily issue in San
Francisco. People just assume that Iʼm American, maybe not white, but some
kind of multiethnic mix which is common in this part of the county. This was
completely different when I was a child in Massachusetts and always recognized
as Asian.
AK: How does the treatment of Americans in Japan compare to that of people
of Japanese descent in America?
SMS: Americans in Japan are generally treated very well although they are
objectified and regarded forever as gaijin. Japanese Americans are treated
better than they once were, and may still be regarded as foreigners, but not as
much as in the past. The major difference in treatment is that European
Americans are often elevated in Japan to a special status and treated as
honored guests, or not-fully-equal members, while Japanese Americans are
minorities who are still subjected to prejudice and ignorance toward Asians.
SMS: Part of that was the researcher in me. I wanted to go through the
experience because I study issues of citizenship. But that was really secondary
to my feeling that I had the right to be a citizen of Japan. If I was going to live
in Japan, then I wanted to do so with equal rights to other citizens. I also
wanted to make a broader social statement: by going through those
134
procedures, I would legally become a Japanese citizen and have the rights that
go along with that. I also thought it would make it easier for me
psychologically to assert that I was Japanese and force others to acknowledge
that I was Japanese.
AK: Besides your university, do you feel like you were treated as Japanese in
other areas of your life?
SMS: Well, there were very few times that I had to pull out the passport. The
few times that happened were at the airport when I was asked for identification.
I think that mostly I am treated as other Japanese are. There are incidents in
daily life, however, which reveal that others feel I am different ─ meaning “not
Japanese.” These are small things like being given an English menu or being
spoken to in English by a flight attendant.
One area in which my decision to naturalize had a large effect was in the
lives of my children. The whole familyʼs status changed. At first, my wife, as
the only Japanese parent, was listed as the head of the household on her koseki
under her maiden name. After my naturalization, we made a new koseki with
my name on it as the head of household. We all had the same family name,
and I was now included as an integral family member. Life was pretty much
the same, except that I could vote and live in Japan freely for the rest of my life.
But I was officially no longer a foreigner and was legally Japanese, which is
important to me.
AK: When you told Japanese people that you were Japanese, what kinds of
reactions did you get?
AK: You once wrote an essay about your interaction with a Japanese taxi driver:
you told him that you were Japanese, yet he didnʼt seem to be able to accept or
comprehend this fully (Murphy-Shigematsu, 2012, February 19).
Chapter Nine: Stephen Murphy-Shigematsu 135
SMS: His response was typical in that Japanese people would be aware that it
was possible for me to be a Japanese citizen. They didnʼt say, “You canʼt do
that.” But the concept for them was confined to residents of Korean ancestry
or people from developing countries. They couldnʼt quite grasp why an
American would want to become Japanese. But there might also be a sense of
acknowledgement, or, “OK, thatʼs who you are. I respect that, and I respect
your right to that, but Iʼm not sure where to place you.” I felt that they thought
I was somehow fushigi, or strange.
So at times, I wouldnʼt say anything about my nationality, but at others, I
would, even if I didnʼt think that it would make much of a difference in a
personʼs thinking. For example, somebody at work might say that Japanese
people donʼt have beards. Then Iʼd say that I have a beard and Iʼm Japanese. I
was being playful, in a sense, but I was also making a social statement. I mean,
what does a Japanese look like? I am Japanese, and this is the way I look,
therefore Japanese also look like me.
AK: Among your colleagues at the University of Tokyo, how were you received
as a researcher?
SMS: I think I was received well. People who knew my academic background
also knew there was a strong relationship between my research and my
academic training. It helped that my degree was from Harvard. It also made a
difference that my fields of study are relatively undeveloped in Japan, and it
was seen as natural that I was an expert in those multicultural fields.
AK: What do you like most about Japan and the Japanese people?
SMS: I have a hard time answering that question because it usually comes
from Japanese people. When it does, I hear it as, “As an outsider, what do you
like about us?” I have the feeling that Iʼm really not an outsider, so I also feel
resistant to answering that question.
AK: Thatʼs not my intent, so can I rephrase the question? Are there any
aspects of living in Japan which allow you to express yourself and enjoy life in
136
ways that are different from when you are living in America?
SMS: Thatʼs very easy to answer. I feel a clear sense of purpose in Japan to use
my life circumstances and experiences to increase understanding of different
people and ways of being. I hope that Japanese people can become more
accepting of differences, not just as hosts for guests who will soon return
home, but for people of diverse origins who will be their neighbors and family
members. I want to expand the consciousness of who is Japanese, so that it
can encompass the wide range of people who either are or want to be integral
members of this society.
My background is rare in Japan, so I am able to fill a role that is needed in
society. I spent 15 years of my professional life there. My professional status
as a professor and the publishing that I did created for me a certain position
which enabled me to do the work that I wanted. But in the U.S., the area in
which I work is more developed. Coming back to the U.S., I wasnʼt isolated,
whereas in Japan, there were very few people doing what I was. So when I
returned to the U.S., it was stimulating but very hard to break in. In Japan,
there were so few people working in my field, and I had a sense of purpose.
There is a seductive element to living in Japan: feeling like a “rock star”
and a “celebrity” and being noticed. There are also many work opportunities
for me in Japan as well as constant experiences of being marginalized. I dwell
in that world in terms of my work: trying to understand the intimate dynamics
going on between people and how they perceive difference. In general, of
course, Americans are more open to dif ference than Japanese, but this
openness is greatly exaggerated, and my life has been influenced by the
prejudice that still exists in the U.S.
For me, Japan is a place where I have daily experiences that force me to
reflect on my identity and broader issues of race and nation. I get stimulation
in Japan that is absent in San Francisco, although in many other parts of the
U.S., race would be an issue for me. Therefore, I am spending more and more
time in Japan.
AK: Youʼve been living in Japan on and off for many years. How has Japan
changed?
Chapter Nine: Stephen Murphy-Shigematsu 137
SMS: My experience in Japan goes back to the 1970s. Back then, I was told
that my specialty of cultural psychology was interesting but not really needed.
But when I came back in the 1980s, the University of Tokyo told me that they
needed what I had to offer. At the university, they had more foreign students,
and there was an official governmental program to internationalize the countryʼs
universities. That was a sign that society was changing. There was both a
reaching out to people who were different, and also the number of people
coming to Japan from other countries was growing. So diversity in certain
parts of Japan was visible. You could hear different languages. Even though
compared to other multicultural societies Japan is not ver y diverse, it is
changing.
AK: Are your social relationships with Japanese people different from those
that you have with Americans?
SMS: Theyʼre pretty similar, but I think there are more formal relations with
Japanese than Americans. Part of that formality is cultural in that there are
many strict social norms that Japanese grow up with. Another part of it is that
many interactions in Japan take place in more formal social settings, such as
restaurants ─ whereas much of the social interaction in America takes place in
peoplesʼ homes, so it becomes more possible to have spontaneous behavior
between people.
Another factor is the dif ference between cultural norms of what is
considered all right to talk about in a social setting. In America, there seem to
be more topics that are OK to discuss. For example, earlier this year, a plane
emergency-landed in the Hudson River. The pilot and his wife were on
television, and his wife said, “He doesnʼt know that Iʼm going to say this, but
since the landing, the sex has been just great!” Nobody would say that in
Japan. In general, thereʼs just more spontaneity in America. Thatʼs something
that I often find difficult in Japan because I enjoy talking intimately with people,
though not about sex!
AK: Which of your experiences in Japan has made the most profound
impression on you?
138
Chapter Ten
Glen S. Fukushima
I first encountered Glen Fukushima in the late 1990s as the featured speaker at a
meeting of Tokyo business leaders. Most of the speakers at these monthly meetings
gave relatively tame presentations, but Mr. Fukushima knocked my socks off. His
keen intellect, honed at Harvard Graduate, Law, and Business Schools as well as
Stanford University, and his intrepid willingness to speak his mind, made his
presentation about U.S.-Japan trade relations unforgettable. Mr. Fukushima is a
Japanese American business leader and former public servant who has earned
high ranks and accolades in both fields. He was the U.S. Government’s Deputy
Assistant United States Trade Representative for Japan and China (1988-1990)
and Director for Japanese Affairs (1985-1988)─ where he became a trusted and
extremely effective trade negotiator between the U.S. and Japan. In the corporate
world, Mr. Fukushima has served as president of the Japan operations of Arthur
D. Little, Cadence Design Systems, NCR, and currently, Airbus. In this interview,
he explains the challenges of improving trade relations between nations as well as
those of running major multinational corporations in Japan. He also describes
the treatment of Japanese Americans in Japan that he has witnessed over the
course of six decades, which can diverge markedly from that usually experienced
by Caucasians.
other in Japanese and we had a Japanese maid, but when my father was
transferred to what was then Camp Sendai, I went to the U.S. militar y
dependentsʼ school and was educated in English. When I was six, my father
was assigned to Fort Ord in northern California, so we moved to the U.S.
In college, I came to Japan twice on exchange programs between Stanford
University, where I was a student, and Keio University. After I graduated from
Stanford in 1972, I came to Japan to work at the Asahi Evening News newspaper
and at a law firm in Tokyo and also to study at the University of Tokyo. That
was around the time I got married to my wife, who is Japanese. In 1974, I went
back to the U.S. to attend graduate school at Har vard University for eight
years. After wards, I still didnʼt want to work (laughs), so in 1982 I got a
Fulbright Fellowship and in 1983 a Japan Foundation Fellowship to study at the
University of Tokyo. In 1984, I returned to the U.S. to work first at a law firm
and then at the Office of the United States Trade Representative, USTR, in the
Executive Of fice of the President in Washington, D.C. I joined AT&T
headquarters in 1990 and came to Japan in June of that year on what was
supposed to be a three-to-five-year assignment. However, I ended up spending
eight years at AT&T.
In 1998, I was recruited to head the Japan operations of Arthur D. Little, a
management consulting firm headquartered in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I
did that for two and a half years, and then in 2000, I was recruited to be the
head of the Japan operations of Cadence Design Systems ─ a Silicon Valley
software company and world leader in making software used to design
semiconductors. In 2004, I was hired to be the co-president of NCR Japan, and
I expected to stay for several years. But within six months, I was offered an
attractive position by Airbus, which I joined in 2005.
So over the past 20 years, Iʼve worked for four American companies and
one European company. Also, from 1993 to 1997, I served as vice president of
the American Chamber of Commerce in Japan, and in 1998 and 1999, as
president. In total, Iʼve lived in Japan over 30 years, but almost 10 of those
were on U.S. military bases. On the bases, my education was in English, and
there was not much exposure to Japan ─ except through television, radio, and
going shopping on weekends off the base.
Chapter Ten: Glen S. Fukushima 141
AK: Did you speak Japanese with your mother while growing up?
GF: I spoke a combination of Japanese and English, but I didnʼt formally study
Japanese until I went to college at Stanford. My grammar, syntax, and
pronunciation are native because I started speaking when I was a child, but I
later had to learn specialized vocabulary and honorifics, or polite language, as
well as how to give professional presentations in Japanese.
AK: Are there any times that you hesitate to use Japanese?
GF: If Iʼm at a party and speaking casually, I will usually converse in Japanese
unless the other party prefers to speak to me in English. But if I am expected
to make a professional presentation, I make it clear at the beginning that I am
not a native Japanese speaker because I donʼt want them to assume that my
Japanese language ability is as good as my native English. Itʼs on that basis
that I usually give presentations in Japanese, which I do much more frequently
these days than I do in English. But because I take pride in my English, I set
high standards for myself when speaking foreign languages.
I am in full command of English since I spent four years as an
undergraduate at Stanford and eight years as a graduate student at Harvard,
and Iʼve also worked in journalism and law. As a student, I always scored in the
top 1% on English aptitude and achievement tests, whereas with Japanese, I
can understand, speak, and read it, but I donʼt write it well. Also, my
vocabulary is limited. For instance, if the topic is politics, economics, current
events, or other areas that I am familiar with in Japanese, I can speak at the
level of a college-educated Japanese person. But I donʼt know how to say
words such as “differential equation,” “quark,” or “epistemology” in Japanese.
I also donʼt know the Japanese for certain parts of the body such as “ventricle.”
AK: So you might have difficulty with some highly specialized words that you
wouldnʼt typically use?
GF: Thatʼs right. About 95% of my Japanese American friends prefer to use
kanji for their last names, but I insist on using katakana (“Japanese phonetic
142
symbols commonly used for foreign loan words”) because I donʼt want people
to mistake me as a Japanese citizen. I didnʼt grow up in the Japanese system. I
have studied about Japan and was a teaching fellow for eminent Japan scholars
such as Ezra Vogel and Edwin Reischauer at Harvard. Iʼve also spent a lot of
time in Japan, but I wouldnʼt presume to be a Japanese person, and I would not
want to be constrained by rules that Japanese impose on each other but not on
non-Japanese.
AK: It sounds like you identify yourself as an American who has a great deal of
knowledge about Japan.
GF: Well, I would be more modest and identify myself as an American who has
some knowledge about Japan. As you know, there are some Japanese nationals
who say that Japan is so complex that even they canʼt understand it.
Iʼll give you an example of some of the dangers of being perceived as
Japanese when you are not. I have a Japanese American friend ─ a very bright
woman who graduated from Georgetown University and then took the Foreign
Service examination to join the U.S. State Department. While she was waiting
for the results, she spent several months in Kyoto to study Japanese. She
passed the exam and subsequently had a very successful career as a Foreign
Service officer in the State Department.
She told me that after she left Kyoto to return to the U.S., some Japanese
friends of hers from Tokyo visited Kyoto and looked her up at her old
apartment, not knowing that she had already left. When they visited the
apartment, one of her friends asked the landlord, a Japanese lady in her 70s, if
she knew where their friend was. The landlord replied, “Oh, you mean that
mentally retarded woman?” This happened because my friend looked
Japanese, had a Japanese last name, and adopted Japanese mannerisms
because she was trying hard to blend in. She was studying Japanese, but her
Japanese was still halting. It was not fluent, college-educated Japanese. So this
landlord, with no ill intentions, simply mistook my friend to be mentally
retarded.
Iʼve also had a somewhat analogous experience. In 1974, when I went to
Harvard for graduate school, Ezra Vogel, one of my professors, hosted a party
Chapter Ten: Glen S. Fukushima 143
AK: From the language instructorʼs perspective, why was it rude for one
Japanese person to speak English to another?
GF: I never asked him that question, but I had another experience that may
shed light on this issue. About 10 years ago, I was asked by the Keizai Doyukai
(Japan Association of Corporate Executives) to chair a committee that would
convene discussions in English among its members. The idea was to provide
Japanese business executives practice in discussing various issues in English
so that they could be more effective when attending international conferences.
I invited several Japanese experts on foreign policy and other issues who
were fluent in English to give presentations in English to the group, but one
after another, they declined, saying, “I donʼt want to speak English in front of
other Japanese.” So I ended up having to ask non-Japanese to give the
144
GF: It really depends on the Japanese one deals with. As a Japanese American,
Iʼve experienced a wide range of reactions to me by Japanese people, ranging
from indifference, more distance, or more familiarity ─ compared to what
Caucasian Americans typically experience. Itʼs hard to predict in advance what
the reaction will be.
For instance, when I was an undergraduate at Stanford and participated in
the Stanford-Keio exchange program, I found in the files letters from the
student organizers at Keio University stating that they preferred not to have
Japanese Americans on the program. They wanted to have Caucasian
Americans because some of the Keio students apparently thought that
Caucasians were the “real” Americans. Also, at that time ─ in the late 1960s
and early 70s ─ there were some Keio students who felt it was more “chic” to
be seen with Caucasians than with Japanese Americans.
There are some Japanese people who assume that Japanese Americans
are not “truly” American, but this is largely generational, confined to Japanese
over the age of 60 or so. There are some older generation Japanese elites who
believe that Americans in positions of power and influence ─ all in New York
Chapter Ten: Glen S. Fukushima 145
and Washington, D.C.─ are white Anglo-Saxon males. So there are some older
elites in Japan who believe either that Japanese Americans arenʼt truly
American or that they donʼt deserve to be given attention because they donʼt
have clout.
But Iʼve found that if youʼre a Japanese American who has professional
skills and can speak Japanese well, it is possible to establish closer
relationships with many Japanese than would be the case for most Caucasians.
It all depends on the individual involved. The younger generation in Japan is
more open and tends to judge people as individuals, rather than based on
categories. Some older Japanese tend to think, “If youʼre an old white
American male, you probably act and think this way, if youʼre a young black
woman you probably act and think this way, and if youʼre a Japanese American,
you probably act and think this way.” They often tend to categorize people
based on preconceived notions, just as they do with other Japanese ─ if you
graduated from the University of Tokyo and work in a government agency, you
must act and think this way, etc.
AK: Going back to your university experience, what was it like studying with
Edwin Reischauer and Ezra Vogel?
GF: I was very fortunate when I was at Harvard to have the opportunity to
work as teaching fellow for three world-renowned scholars. One was David
Riesman, who wrote The Lonely Crowd and was probably the most famous
American sociologist in the 1950s and 1960s. The second was Edwin
Reischauer, who had been the U.S. Ambassador to Japan from 1961 to 1966 and
wrote Japan: Past and Present, one of the most widely read books on Japan.
And the third was Ezra Vogel, an expert on both Japan and China, who wrote
Japan as Number One: Lessons for America.
AK: How would you summarize what each professor taught you?
GF: For David Riesman, I was one of six teaching fellows in 1975-76 for his
famous course, Social Sciences 136, Character and Social Structure in America.
From Riesman, I learned of the complexity of American society, the importance
146
of diversity, the need to study societies not only theoretically but empirically,
and the importance of nurturing bright undergraduates. Edwin Reischauer
was a scholar but had also served as U.S. Ambassador to Japan, so from him I
learned that academic research should always take account of the real world of
individuals, politics, and policy. Ezra Vogel had strong theoretical training
under Talcott Parsons at Harvard, but he wrote in one of his books, “Progress
in an academic field may be viewed as a series of successively closer
approximations to reality.”
Like Riesman and Reischauer, Vogel focuses on the concrete, specific, and
empirical. So one of the things I learned from all three of these scholars is that
theorizing is fine, but for academic studies to be useful, you have to look at
objective reality. Also, Ezra Vogel in particular taught me the importance of
people and organizations: although natural forces (such as the weather,
earthquakes, disease, etc.) can alter the course of history, most of the factors
that af fect our daily lives are a result of peopleʼs decisions and actions.
Therefore, understanding and dealing effectively with people and organizations
is extremely important, especially for people in leadership positions.
AK: What have been the employeesʼ nationalities at the corporations where
youʼve worked in Japan?
GF: Itʼs different in each case. At AT&T Japan, about 80% of the employees
were Japanese and 20% were American expatriates. At Arthur D. Little Japan,
all of the employees were Japanese. Cadence Design Systems Japan was about
90% Japanese and 10% non-Japanese ─ primarily American expatriates from
Silicon Valley. NCR Japan was almost entirely Japanese, and Airbus Japan is
about 80% Japanese and the rest expatriates from Europe.
AK: As a leader of Japanese people in these companies, what have been the
greatest challenges?
GF: One of the biggest challenges has been to get the Japanese employees to
verbalize and articulate, to express themselves proactively, and to engage in
debate and discussion in English ─ both with each other and with foreigners.
Chapter Ten: Glen S. Fukushima 147
The Japanese educational system has not emphasized logic, analysis, critical
thinking, debate, and presentation skills in writing or speaking, whether in
Japanese or English. So trying to draw people out and get them to take the
initiative in discussion and debate has been a challenge in ever y Japanese
organization I have led.
At NCR Japan, which had almost no non-Japanese, I spoke only Japanese.
At the other companies, I spoke in Japanese with my Japanese staff but used
English in mixed groups. This gets back to why Japanese donʼt like to speak
English with each other. The gap ─ what you lose by having Japanese people
speak in English ─ is so great that I generally prefer to speak Japanese with
Japanese workers. With the younger generation and in some financial
institutions, there are Japanese people for whom the gap between their English
and Japanese ability is not so big, and I am more likely to speak English with
them. In fact, in some cases, like for kikokushijo (“returnees, or Japanese with
lengthy experience living overseas”), they actually prefer to speak in English
because it allows for more frank discussions. But in my experience, getting
Japanese employees to engage in active and articulate discussion and debate in
English has been one of the biggest challenges as a manager.
AK: You said that there is a gap ─ something that you lose when you speak in
English with a Japanese person. What is that?
GF: It all depends on the individual. Sometimes, itʼs the substance and content
of what is being said, especially the nuances. For instance, every year for more
than 10 years, I have helped Harvard University interview Japanese applicants
to its Program on U.S.-Japan Relations. Several Har vard professors and I
interview applicants in English for about 45 minutes each. Although these
applicants are mostly graduates of Japanʼs top universities and work at major
corporations or government agencies, interviewing them in English is a real
challenge. Many of them have a hard time even understanding the questions
we pose to them. And when they try to express themselves, their English is
sometimes so halting and rudimentary that itʼs almost painful to hear them
speak.
Working at a foreign-affiliated company in Japan ─ a company that has
148
AK: It has been said about your diplomatic career that you were instrumental
in improving trade relations between the U.S. and Japan in the late 1980s.
What were some of the keys to accomplishing this?
GF: Many of my colleagues in the U.S. Gover nment had a hard time
understanding the Japanese government bureaucracy because the Japanese
and U.S. systems of government are so dif ferent. Because there is no
counterpart for USTR in Japan, I dealt with about 15 Japanese government
agencies. This was a truly educational experience. My studies at Harvard and
the University of Tokyo, as well as my field research in Japan on a Fulbright
and Japan Foundation Fellowship, helped me to understand how Japanese
central government bureaucrats think, what their priorities are, and how they
fit into society ─ for instance, their relationship to politicians, business, and the
mass media.
Let me give you a specific example. U.S.-Japan trade negotiations in Japan
would sometimes last for four or five days. At the end of the first day, around
5 p.m., the Japanese negotiators would say, “We will now adjourn for the day.
What should we tell the press?”
The U.S. would usually answer, “We donʼt plan to tell the press anything
until we finish the negotiations at the end of this week.”
The Japanese would then usually respond, “Oh no, we canʼt do that. So
many journalists are waiting for us outside. Theyʼre hungry for information.
We have to tell them something.”
We would then spend 10 to 45 minutes negotiating what we would tell the
press. The next day, the U.S. negotiators would be incensed to find that the
newspaper reports were completely different from what we had agreed to the
day before. The U.S. negotiators would say, “Those Japanese lied to us again!
They told us that they were going to tell the press one thing, and they told
them another. We canʼt trust these guys.”
My interpretation was different. In the formal press briefing, the Japanese
150
officials probably adhered to what we had agreed to. But in addition to the
formal press briefing, in Japan there are the informal discussions with the
press, including the casual discussions while officials are walking to or from
their cars and the yomawari, where at 11 or 12 at night, before the 1 a.m.
morning newspaper deadline, journalists go to the homes of bureaucrats,
politicians, and business executives to gather information. The wives will often
serve the reporters drinks while they are waiting for the husbands to come
home. In many cases, once the politician, official, or executive comes home,
heʼll sit around drinking and talking with the reporters for an hour or so.
The resulting articles are not necessarily written by one reporter. The
desk editor will often put together an article based on what three, four, or five
dif ferent repor ters gathered from dif ferent sources ─ some of them not
necessarily reliable. So the articles that appeared in the newspapers would
often be quite different from what the U.S. and Japanese negotiators had
agreed to tell the press. The process by which news is created and reported in
Japan was much more complicated than what my U.S. Government colleagues
understood, so it was not necessarily the case that the Japanese negotiators
were consciously reneging on what they had promised. There were some
cases where the Japanese negotiators consciously distorted the news to favor
the Japanese side, but in many cases, what was reported was out of their
control.
This is just one example of where my education and training helped me to
understand better the reality in Japan than my U.S. Government colleagues. I
could be more objective and unemotional than those who simply assumed that
the Japanese side had intentionally stabbed us in the back.
GF: Yes. In addition, I was able to get the U.S. message across to the Japanese
public through the mass media by providing them with information in
Japanese, in both Washington, D.C. and Tokyo, in ways that were
understandable to them. This was usually more effective than U.S. officials
Chapter Ten: Glen S. Fukushima 151
who had little knowledge of Japan briefing the Japanese media in English. The
reason is that, just as in U.S.-Japan negotiations, understanding the other party
is cr ucial to being persuasive and ef fective. Because I could read and
understand Japanese, I was aware of what kind of information was being
conveyed by the Japanese negotiators to the Japanese public in newspapers,
magazines, and television. This allowed me to understand what points to
emphasize, and, when necessary, what arguments to rebut, to make the most
persuasive case when speaking to the mass media on behalf of the U.S.
negotiating team.
GF: Again, it all depends on the individual. There are certain individuals who
take advantage of being a foreigner in a positive way. In Japan, there is still the
notion that foreigners (at least Caucasians) are guests and should be treated
differently from Japanese. Since foreigners are usually not bound by the same
rules as the Japanese, some foreigners use this to their advantage in a positive
way. Others have been known to abuse it and make enemies as “ugly
foreigners.”
I can give you three examples. First, when I was vice president and
president of the American Chamber of Commerce in Japan (ACCJ) in the
1990s, we would at least once a year organize a “Diet Doorknock,” when ACCJ
leaders would call on Japanese political leaders, including the prime minister
and cabinet officers, to present to them issues of concern to the American
business community in Japan. Our status as foreign business executives gave
us access to Japanese political leaders at a level unattainable except to the very
top Japanese business leadership, such as leaders of Keidanren (Japan
Business Federation) and Keizai Doyukai (Japan Association of Corporate
Executives).
Second, when I was at USTR, I had this type of experience several times. I
would be accompanying a senior U.S. Government official, for example, the
deputy U.S. trade representative, on a negotiating trip to Japan. We would be
invited to dinner by senior Japanese government officials or business leaders
at a fancy restaurant. We would be in a private room, and the senior U.S.
152
official would be sitting in the middle, with me on his right and our U.S.
Embassy control officer (several ranks lower than me but a Caucasian) on his
left, closest to the entrance (a seat which indicates, according to Japanese
convention, a lower rank than a place further from the entrance). The waitress
would always serve the official in the middle first, the control officer second,
and me last. The waitress was no doubt thinking about me, “This guy looks
Japanese, and he even speaks Japanese, so he must be Japanese. That means
these two Caucasians are the guests, and they deserve preferential treatment.
So they deserve to be served the best portions of the sukiyaki. The Japanese-
looking guy must be an interpreter or the host, but he certainly isnʼt a guest
who deserves special treatment.”
It was frustrating that the control officer, whose Japanese language ability
was minimal; who knew much less than I did about Washington, D.C., Japan,
or trade; and who was a junior officer, would get better treatment than me. But
he was taking advantage of the Japanese tendency to give Caucasians
preferential treatment, since they are merely guests, not true members of
Japanese society. Early in my career at USTR, I complained about this to a
senior Japanese politician, who told me, “You shouldnʼt worry about this. We
treat Caucasians differently because they are aliens and beasts, whereas we
treat you as one of us.”
A final example is when U.S. negotiators would go to the Japanese
Ministry of Foreign Affairs for trade negotiations. I was often the leader of the
U.S. negotiating team. We would go by car or van from the U.S. Embassy to
the Foreign Ministry for the negotiations. At the time, I was the only U.S.
official who was not Caucasian. The Caucasians would walk past the two
guards on duty at the entrance to the ministry with no problem and without
showing any I.D. But when I walked in, they would shout at me, “Kimi, kimi,
doko ni iku no?” (“Hey you, where do you think youʼre going?”)─ as if I were
some homeless person wandering in from the street, not knowing where I was
going. On several occasions, my colleagues would shout back, “Mr.
Fukushima is leading this delegation.” The guards probably did not mean ill;
they were simply afflicted with the Japanese tendency to judge people based on
their appearance.
Chapter Ten: Glen S. Fukushima 153
AK: How would you like to see the treatment of Americans, and specifically of
Japanese Americans, change?
AK: How is the treatment of Japanese Americans in America different from the
treatment of Americans in Japan?
GF: Itʼs hard to generalize about the United States because itʼs so diverse.
When I was growing up on military bases in the U.S. and Japan in the 1950s
and 1960s, I knew Japanese Americans who were like me ─ their mothers were
Japanese and their fathers were Japanese American. So I grew up thinking
that most Japanese Americans could speak and understand Japanese, even if
they couldnʼt read and write it.
But when I went to high school in Los Angeles, I realized that most
Japanese Americans on the continental U.S. couldnʼt speak Japanese and had
never been to Japan. When I went to Stanford, many of the Japanese
Americans there were from elite Hawaii prep schools such as Punaho and
Iolani, and they considered themselves to be closer to Japan than Japanese
Americans from the continental United States. And when I went to Harvard, I
got to know people like Francis Fukuyama and Kenneth Oye, who had spent
their childhoods in New York, Chicago, or Philadelphia, often in Jewish
intellectual communities that had nothing to do with Japan or Japanese
Americans.
So itʼs hard to generalize about the Japanese American experience in the
U.S. after 1945. In Hawaii, until a few years ago, Japanese Americans were the
leading Asian ethnic group in terms of positions of power and influence. So
Japanese Americans from Hawaii may have a totally dif ferent worldview
Chapter Ten: Glen S. Fukushima 155
AK: So you felt that Japanese Americans were largely accepted in America as
members of the community?
GF: In the places where I grew up, thatʼs true, at least in the postwar period.
But I must confess that my experience in the U.S. is limited primarily to San
Francisco, Los Angeles, Boston, Chicago, New York City, and Washington,
D.C. ─ all among the most cosmopolitan centers in the U.S. I drove across the
U.S. five times when I was in graduate school, so I am well aware of the
diversity of America as well as its broad expanses of insularity and
provincialism. But as a general proposition, I am optimistic about the ability of
the U.S. to accept and utilize talent from around the world, whereas Japanʼs
willingness or ability to do so remains a big question that impinges on its
potential future role as a global leader.
157
Chapter Eleven
Tomoko Yoshida
As a Japanese national, with Japanese parents, who was born and currently lives
in Japan, Tomoko Yoshida does not at first seem to “fit” as a subject for this book.
However, as a prominent researcher and teacher in the field of intercultural
communication, she is included to bring to this book a better balance of Japanese
and non-Japanese perspectives. Professor Yoshida (of Keio University) has lived
for over eight years in the United States, and in this interview, she compares the
difficulty of Americans and other foreigners being accepted in Japan with that of
Japanese acceptance in America ─ thus revealing eye-opening limits to American
tolerance for cultural and racial diversity. As Professor Yoshida has undergone
the experience of resettling in Japan after living abroad, she also articulates how
Japanese returnees sometimes struggle to fit in back “home.” If the Japanese
themselves have such difficulties, then one can imagine the barriers for foreigners
who only began to learn Japanese language and culture as adults (as is the case
for many Westerners). Finally, Dr. Yoshida discusses her research about “haafu”
and offers a vision for how to better accommodate them within Japanese schools
and society.
program for two years. I was in Hawaii for one and a half years at the East-
West Center and then two years working as the Training Director for Japanese
Programs at the ITT Sheraton Hotel in Waikiki. After that, I returned to Japan
and started teaching at Keio University in 1996. From 2002 to 2004, I was in
Hawaii for my sabbatical and to work on my PhD.
TY: That was something which I dealt with for many years. Now, I just think of
myself as “me.” When I was little, I thought I was American because all my
friends were American and I went to an American school where we spoke
English. For the longest time, I wanted to live in the U.S.A., and my sister and
I begged our dad to take us to the U.S.A. for his second sabbatical. So, for the
sixth grade, we went to Davis, California, and I had the worst year of my whole
life. In retrospect, I realize that it was mainly because the kids all knew each
other, and it was a small school, so I was the “new kid.” I didnʼt make a single
friend. This was especially hard because I was really looking forward to living
in the United States and making a lot of American friends. At the time, I just
felt like I didnʼt belong, and thatʼs when I realized that I wasnʼt American.
Since I wasnʼt American, I believed that I must be Japanese. But when I
went to ICU in Japan, nobody thought I was Japanese. So I was like, “Who am
I?” In Syracuse, I was one of the very few Asians. But when I moved to Hawaii,
it was the first time that nobody asked me what I was, because there are a lot
of people who look Japanese but are American. I felt comfortable with myself ─
I didnʼt really think about my identity. Now, I think people accept me for who I
am. Basically, Iʼm me ─ a third-culture kid, a global nomad.
TY: Yes.
AK: Are the struggles youʼve described very common for Japanese who have
grown up abroad?
Chapter Eleven: Tomoko Yoshida 159
TY: Based on my studies and talking with different people, it really depends.
Especially nowadays, Japanese kids who grow up in the U.S. are raised with a
very strong Japanese identity. From the time they are born, their parents tell
them that they are Japanese because a lot of returnee groups are saying you
should raise your kids with a strong Japanese identity. Most of my students
never face a cultural identity crisis because theyʼve always believed that theyʼre
Japanese. Many of my friends who are my age or older do face similar issues
to mine. But then again, it depends on where they grew up, the type of school
that they went to, and their personalities. Some people really struggle, but
others donʼt.
AK: So you wouldnʼt say that itʼs difficult for Japanese when they return to
Japan to fit into Japanese society?
TY: It was really hard for me. And thatʼs why my sister left Japan. But it
depends ─ some people really struggle, and some find it really easy.
TY: The difference between being foreign and a returnee is this: when youʼre a
returnee, people expect you to be Japanese. When I make a mistake, people
donʼt realize why. There are certain things that a foreigner could get away
with, but I canʼt. The flipside is that a foreigner, no matter how good their
Japanese is, never gets accepted. Whereas for someone like me, itʼs a little
easier ─ except when I open my mouth. If Iʼm really quiet, people assume that
Iʼm Japanese, but once I start saying things, they know that Iʼm not.
Many struggles are around fitting in. When youʼve grown up abroad, what
you consider to be common sense is totally different from Japanese who have
grown up here ─ like saying your opinion in meetings. For the longest time, I
had to find a corner of the room to sit in, so even if I opened my mouth, people
wouldnʼt see me and expect me to talk. I always felt that I should say
something when I was in a meeting, but I knew if I did, Iʼd get in trouble. For
example, one time I thought we were just brainstorming ideas, so I made a
suggestion without really thinking about how it would affect other people. I
160
figured I would lay it out there and we could talk about it. One of the senior
members thought it was a great idea and it got accepted. Later on, I found out
that some people did not like my idea because it would cause other problems.
But they never said anything during the meeting. I guess I should have
considered this and ran it by other people before mentioning it at a formal
meeting.
Or I would not know how to do things. I bought a house, and there were
many situations where I didnʼt know how to behave with my neighbors. When
my ex-husband crashed into someoneʼs house, I didnʼt know how to apologize.
People had so many expectations towards me because they assumed that I was
a “normal” Japanese person. But I didnʼt know any of these rules. My mom is
Japanese, but she went to the University of Tokyo and isnʼt a “typical” Japanese.
She doesnʼt have an understanding of these ever yday social graces, so she
couldnʼt tell me. Ever ybody expected me to act like a “proper” Japanese
person, and I didnʼt know what to do. There were so many expectations, and
nobody knew that I didnʼt know, so they just thought that I was rude or stupid.
For the longest time, the way that I dress was a problem. For example, Iʼm
not supposed to wear shorts. People would say, “I canʼt believe youʼre over 30
and youʼre wearing shorts!” I couldnʼt take the trash out in my pajamas. There
are so many expectations in Japan.
AK: You said before that you face a lot of expectations but foreigners donʼt.
TY: Some of them do, obviously. But there are certain expectations that people
drop. They say, “Oh, heʼs foreign, so thatʼs OK.”
Take for example my neighbors. My ex-husband crashed into their gate,
and we had to fix it. After the accident, I didnʼt know exactly how many
minutes I was supposed to wait until I went to their house. I guessed that I was
supposed to take a gift with me when I apologized but didnʼt know how
expensive the gift was supposed to be or what kind to get (for example, food,
drinks, or gift cer tificates). I didnʼt know what to say ─ which words or
expressions were appropriate. I wasnʼt sure if I should go to their house alone
or if I should go with my ex. I wasnʼt sure whether I should keep going back
every day to apologize. There are probably rules about all of these things. But
Chapter Eleven: Tomoko Yoshida 161
if you, a foreigner, said a slightly different phrase, or your gift was a little bit
smaller than expected, theyʼd still be impressed that you went to this trouble of
following Japanese cultural norms. Whereas, if it were me, theyʼd think, “Oh
my God, I canʼt believe sheʼs giving the wrong gift.”
AK: When you were living in America, did you feel accepted by Americans?
TY: When I was in California, no. In Syracuse, the foreign students all hung
out together and made their own group. In Hawaii, there is the local culture ─
the people who were born and bred in Hawaii ─ and then everybody else. So
that is where the ingroup and outgroup are divided. I was part of the outgroup,
but so were all of the Americans from the mainland. I lived with a bunch of
Americans from the mainland, and I was a part of their ingroup, but I wasnʼt
quite part of the localsʼ ingroup. But because I am from Japan, and a lot of the
localsʼ ancestors were Japanese, they accepted me to a certain extent ─ even
though they knew that I wasnʼt one of them.
AK: If you were to compare being a foreign person in America with being
foreign in Japan, which is easier in terms of gaining acceptance from the
citizens of that country?
TY: It depends on where you live in each country. Syracuse has a very white
culture. When Iʼd order pizza, the shopkeeper would say, “Whatʼs your name?”
Iʼd say, “Tomoko.”
“What?!?!”
“Tomoko.”
“Spell it!!!”
Iʼd spell it, and then my pizza was ready and heʼd call my name out, but heʼd
say something incomprehensible that started with a “T.” Iʼd have to go through
this every week. Finally, my boyfriend at the time was named Scott, so Iʼd give
his name. The pizza man would look at me like I was crazy when I said my
name was Scott. So I couldnʼt even order pizza. It was so frustrating.
Scott and I would walk around together. He was ver y tall and white.
People would just assume that he was in the militar y and that I was some
162
woman that heʼd found while stationed overseas even though he definitely did
not have a military haircut. There is a lot of racism in the States ─ in certain
parts.
Of course, in Japan, thereʼs a lot of racism, but thereʼs also the reverse.
Japanese think that certain groups are better than them, so these groups
actually enjoy advantages in Japan that they donʼt have in their own countries.
In general, the U.S. is more open to immigrants, but it really depends on who
and where you are as to which country is more accepting.
AK: While living in the U.S., what kind of racism did you experience?
TY: Itʼs more aversive or subtle racism than direct and overt. There was
blatant racism, too, but that was mainly from other minorities. With
Caucasians, it was really hard to make friends and get to know people. The
way that they talked to me was different ─ like they wouldnʼt take me seriously.
There was also a sense of detachment, and people would stare. But this is in
Syracuse, not New York City. Once, this sweet old lady came up to me and
said, “Oh, you have such beautiful skin! Itʼs like porcelain.” Also, I was at a
wedding in Hawaii, and my friendʼs mother-in-law is from the South. She
walked up to my Japanese friend and said, “Youʼre so cute, youʼre like a China
doll!”
AK: It sounds like these Caucasians feel psychological distance from Japanese
people.
AK: You faced mostly subtle racism, but how about blatant racism?
TY: Once, when I was visiting Florida with my family, two teenagers came up
to us and yelled, “Go home, you fucking Japs!” Or when I was in rural Oregon
at a pizza place sitting with two Japanese girls, three Caucasian college
students walked in and said something to us about being “Japanese sluts.”
Chapter Eleven: Tomoko Yoshida 163
AK: You said earlier that some groups of foreigners receive better treatment in
Japan than others. What type of hierarchy is there?
TY: Skin color and countr y of origin are important: Caucasians are treated
better than Asians or Africans, and Europeans and Americans are treated
better than Asians. I think this has existed for a while.
Among the biethnic kids that my coauthor and I inter viewed in our
research, a lot of the kids that were half white were proud to be “haafu.” It was
cool for them to be “haafu”: they were considered better-looking, popular, and
everyone wanted to date them. But some of them were angry that the other
biethnic groups in their school ─ for example, Japanese Filipinos ─ were
treated pretty poorly.
TY: Definitely. But the biethnic kids who looked Asian had an advantage: if
they didnʼt say anything, people assumed that they were Japanese. Those with
a parent of African ancestr y had the hardest time because they looked so
different. Also, most of those that we interviewed had divorced parents, so
they looked (at least partly) African, but they lived with their Japanese moms.
They didnʼt look like their Japanese moms, though. In one case, the mom
thought that it was too much work to tell everyone that her biethnic child was
her daughter, so everyone thought that her daughter was just some homestay
kid. The girl laughed when she told us, but we thought, “Thatʼs got to hurt.”
AK: So foreigners of Asian descent and biethnic kids with Asian appearances
donʼt receive special treatment like Caucasians, but thereʼs an opportunity to
blend in and belong ─ while people of African descent are ostracized more.
TY: Exactly.
164
AK: What do biethnic kids need to feel more comfortable while growing up in
Japan?
TY: One important point is whether or not they live in a place with many other
biethnic kids. If they go to school with other biethnic kids, they donʼt feel so
different. They feel more accepted. So it helps when parents put the kids in an
environment where there are a lot of other kids like themselves.
What society can do ─ and not just Japanese society but all societies ─ is
to get rid of the idea that people have to be a particular race or a have a
particular identity. Certain identity models say, “This is the ideal identity,” but
I think there is no ideal for biethnics ─ or other ethnic groups, for that matter.
For example, someone who is half black and half white might grow up thinking
they are completely white, and people will say, “Thatʼs not good ─ youʼre
black.” Or someone might think theyʼre completely black. I think, “If it works
for them, itʼs fine.” Let them decide. It really bothers me when people say,
“Thatʼs the wrong answer.” Itʼs society expecting people to be a particular type
of human being that makes it so hard.
AK: So thereʼs a conflict between the way society sees them and the way that
they see themselves?
TY: Exactly. One of the books which I quoted in my last research article said
that it is society that needs to change the way they see us ─ people who are
biethnics. A lot of biethnic people are asked, “What are you?” Not even, “Who
are you?” but “What are you?” The answer is, “I am me.”
For me and other returnees, the question that weʼre always asked is,
“Where are you from?” And itʼs a really hard question. Once, I was at the
Polynesian Cultural Center in Honolulu, and the guide asked everyone, “Where
are you from?” He obviously wanted a one-word answer.
I answered, “Iʼm Japanese but I was born in the Philippines and lived in
New Zealand for one year and California for one year.”
And people were like, “Show-off!”
But if I say that Iʼm Japanese, theyʼll ask me, “Why do you speak English
so well?” And if I say that Iʼm American, theyʼll ask, “Why do you have a name
Chapter Eleven: Tomoko Yoshida 165
like that?” So for a lot of returnees, “Where are you from?” is the hard
question, and for biethnics, itʼs, “What are you?”
My co-author, who is a returnee, said that returnees and biethnics face
very similar issues, but from opposite perspectives. The issues are similar in
that both groups are dif ferent from the “mainstream.” Their issues are
different in that returnees look Japanese, but how they behave and think may
be foreign. Many biethnics look foreign, but if they grew up in Japan, culturally
they are often completely Japanese. So itʼs the flipside of returnees. It would be
interesting if we could just switch our appearances.
TY: If they can find a place within the Japanese school system where there are
other biethnic kids, then it may work. But if they are the only one, then it
might be hard. Or if they went to a Japanese school without biethnic kids but
lived in a community with many biethnic kids, then it would be easier. I think
that itʼs important to have some places where the child feels normal and can
relate to other kids with a similar background. What we found in our data was
that the kids who went to international schools did not even think about their
biethnic identity because it was just so normal.
AK: Did you find that biethnic kids who were educated in the Japanese school
system without biethnic peers did not feel accepted by Japanese children or did
not experience positive personal development?
TY: Actually, no. We found that many kids who had gone to a Japanese
elementary and junior high school, yet had never lived abroad, became very
interested in their non-Japanese identity later. These kids often went through a
phrase of feeling like they were different from everyone and asking, “Who am
I?” Then they grew interested in their non-Japanese identity and usually
became comfortable with themselves later, for example, in college. But I think
it was easier for the kids who went to an international school. Maybe they
166
struggled after they graduated, but they didnʼt have much of a struggle while
they were in school.
We interviewed one girl who is half Italian American and half Japanese.
Sheʼs a model now, but she said that when she was a child, she hated the fact
that she looked dif ferent from ever yone. She hated her nose, her face,
ever ything. Even though her sister was not a model, she was so jealous
because her sister looked Japanese. Then, she went to a high school where
there were a lot of returnees and people who were biethnic, and she realized
that being different was not such a big deal. It was entering a school where
she knew that she wasnʼt the only “strange” one that helped her to accept
herself.
You have to be really strong to be the only one who is different. Itʼs easier
when there are a lot of people like you ─ which was true for me when I went to
Hawaii. You realize that youʼre not the only one. So I think it is necessary for
everyone to realize at some point that they are not alone.
AK: Iʼd like to return to the experiences of non-Japanese people. What advice
do you have for them to be accepted within Japanese society?
TY: It depends on who I am giving advice to. I have a lot of foreign friends who
speak Japanese fluently and are really a part of their Japanese communities.
And then there are some who are totally outside. But intercultural
communication researchers generally advise that people going abroad have
realistic expectations. To know that youʼll never be accepted as a “normal”
Japanese is important. I’ll never be accepted as a “normal” Japanese. I donʼt
expect to anymore. If I did, it would be a constant struggle. I just want to be
accepted for who I am, which I have been. People think, “Sheʼs strange,” but
they like me as I am. Thatʼs enough for me. So I think changing your
expectations is important. You canʼt look and be like everyone here. But then,
most Japanese arenʼt like that either. Everybody is “strange.” Nobody really
fits anyway. So one point is not to have really high expectations. As long as
people accept you for who you are, then you should be happy with yourself.
Also, many Japanese people donʼt really know a lot of Japanese norms,
either, like my mother, and sheʼs Japanese. So foreign people can lower
Chapter Eleven: Tomoko Yoshida 167
TY: Yes, many non-Japanese are recognized in that way, like John Condon or
Dean Barnlund. I donʼt think who is recognized as an expert is related to
being Japanese or non-Japanese. Books about Japan written by non-Japanese,
such as those by Dr. Condon, Dr. Barnlund, George Devos, Edwin Reischauer,
and many others are well-respected.
TY: Individually, most of the Japanese who I know are doing a good job and are
pretty open, but as a society, I donʼt think that Japan is doing so well. Itʼs just
too closed in so many ways.
I definitely see an improvement with the younger generation. Theyʼre
more accepting of differences. When I first came back to Japan and went to
ICU, everything that I did was “wrong,” and everyone would correct me: “Oh,
you canʼt sit like that. You have to sit like this.” But now, Iʼll sit on the table,
and my students will just laugh. They wonʼt correct me. Part of that may be
because Iʼm their professor, but then they star t sitting on the table, too.
Through the Internet and movies, theyʼre exposed to more cultures and
differences than in the past. Gradually, things will change.
What can we do as a society? Schooling for immigrant kids is important.
Theyʼre not required to go to school, and the public schools donʼt generally do
well with foreign kids. My friendʼs daughter is Nepalese, and her classmates
168
picked on her so badly. Finally, she had to leave Japan and return to Nepal
alone. Then, they sent their son to an international school, but itʼs a Catholic
school, and his family is not Catholic. The only private schools that are
affordable are Christian, but theyʼre designed mostly for missionariesʼ kids.
The American School was too expensive. So itʼs hard if youʼre not American,
rich, or a missionary.
Another issue is that so many foreigners have been fired in the current
recession. The Japanese government said that workers of Brazilian descent
can return home at the governmentʼs expense, but they canʼt come back to
Japan. Thatʼs not a real welcoming attitude.
A lot of my students give presentations about how we should accept more
immigrants. Theyʼre just saying things that the newspapers and politicians are
saying, and their reasoning is to accept more workers because of Japanʼs
graying population. Thatʼs fine. But theyʼre also saying that Japanese donʼt
like to do “dirty” jobs, so we should hire the foreigners to do that kind of hard
labor. Well, do you think that the foreigners want to do that? The first
generation might because they need the work, but the second and third
generations probably wonʼt. So itʼs not going to solve the problem. The labor
shortage seems to be the biggest argument right now for bringing immigrants,
but thatʼs not the right reason.
About one year ago, a Filipino couple was illegally staying in Japan, but
their daughter was born here. The justice system said that the daughter could
stay because she was born here, but the parents had to go back. That was a
monumental case. The fact that the Japanese media focused on this instead of
hiding it is better than before. Ten or twenty years ago, the media would not
have even talked about it. But it was treated as a big issue, so everyone had to
deal with it. They had the same type of case in the U.S. with a Cuban illegal
immigrant family and their son. It was the same decision, too: the boy could
stay but the parents couldnʼt.
AK: So people are wrestling with the issue ─ and in the process, changing their
consciousness about it.
Chapter Twelve
Donald Richie
When it comes to insight into Japan, Donald Richie is my hero. At this interview,
I finally met him for the first time, and he did not disappoint. Mr. Richie is a
prolific author of books and articles about Japan, as well as a world-class expert
on Japanese film. As someone who has lived most of the second half of the 20th
century here (first arriving in 1947 with the U.S. Occupation forces), he has
witnessed firsthand Japan’s economic and social transformation since the end of
World War II, as well as how its treatment of non-Japanese has evolved. A
sagacious observer of the human condition, Mr. Richie’s interview includes gems
of insight that still leave me in deep contemplation and nodding my head ─
wanting to ask him more.
Donald Richie: I came in January, 1947, and Iʼm still here. In between, there
were three years going to Columbia University and four years with the
Museum of Modern Art. Other wise, Iʼve been here in Japan for about 55
years.
DR: Mainly, I consider myself a writer. While Iʼve done a lot of other things, I
still consider my accomplishments to be my writings ─ about forty-something
books.
DR: Very early, I came to cherish differences. So one of the things that I like
about Japan is that it is ver y dif ferent from Ohio, where I came from.
Difference always teaches me something. My life is all about education ─
educating myself. I have found out many things in Japan about myself that I
would not have found otherwise.
AK: What are the most personally transformative differences which you have
discovered?
DR: Mainly alternate ways of thought, connotations which donʼt mean the same
thing in the two countries, assumptions which are quite different from the
whole mindset about what being alive means ─ about what being human
means. These are quite separate in the two cultures.
AK: The longer you live in Japan, do you tend to see more differences or
similarities between Americans and Japanese?
Chapter Twelve: Donald Richie 171
DR: I think you have to say both. The more you learn, the deeper you go, and
certainly the more differences you see. But at the same time, time is evolving
itself. Time is really erosion and takes away qualities. Japanese culture
erodes. It is so deep that it will take a long time to do so. But as it erodes,
things that had been going on as if they were permanent are simply not there
anymore. So Japanese culture is changing, while you yourself are changing as
you look at it.
DR: The economy is one of the things that you notice first. We have an end to
lifetime employment. We have an end to the “upwardly mobile escalator.” This
kind of change has always occurred, but we notice it now because we are
getting near the bottom of the barrel. The society is not endless. But there
are still enough intriguing objects for us to look at down there.
AK: What do you mean when you say, “We are getting near the bottom of the
barrel”?
DR: How many changes can a society sustain and still be itself? What we called
Japan, or what Roland Barthes called Japan, was a combination of all of these
traditional things. So if they go away, what do we have left of Japan? If we have
a new concept, we have to do something about it, like find new names for it.
AK: You said a moment ago that Japan has been changing, as have you and
your way of viewing it. How have you and your way of viewing Japan changed
over the years?
DR: For one thing, you learn something new every day. At the same time,
since I am a social creature, my tendency has been to sink into Japan ─ not to
become Japanese, but to simply arrange for a more comfortable life so that I
do not find things as surprising or alarming as I once did. So I have mellowed
to an extent. At the same time, this is a country that still gives me all sorts of
new insights as a non-native. So these two processes are going on.
172
Also, I donʼt know whether to deplore it or not, but anyone who lives in this
country, which is terminally self-conscious, becomes absurdly self-conscious
himself. I am conscious of self in a way that I probably never would have been
in Ohio. To me, “self” demands definitions every day ─ not only of myself, but
I think that I have to define everybody else. Iʼm wild about definition. I donʼt
know why I should be so anxious to pin things down, but I apparently am.
DR: If I could take away the things that I donʼt like about Japan, then it wouldnʼt
be Japan anymore. So Iʼve always made an attempt to swallow Japan whole ─
not to discriminate so much between what I like or donʼt. This is not as
important as, “Does this work or not?” or “Does this serve a wider purpose or
not?” These are more important questions than whether I like them or not. Iʼve
never paid too much attention to what I donʼt like and conversely what I do like
about Japan. So it is a bit difficult for me to answer that question.
But what I do like is the sense of interconnectedness ─ the fact that the
Japanese originally learned that everything was interconnected, so there was a
symbiotic relationship between people and nature. Itʼs a revolutionary idea
that all of the strata or layers of society were connected one to another. It
denies what the West has said about class structure, and it denies the fact that
Japan has classes ─ though it certainly does. These are all different ways of
thought which get my attention and my admiration.
When workmen used to try to make a wall and a tree would get in the way,
they would make a hole in the wall to accommodate the tree instead of the
other way around. This used to be seen on a regular basis. Alas, it is no more.
A lot of the things which I like about Japan have disappeared. If this symbiotic
relationship with nature was ever here, it is not here anymore. The Japanese
have done terrible things physically to their country. That would be something
which I do not like about Japan.
But if I dice it into likes and dislikes, and I have difficulty doing that, there
must be a better way for me to see differences. Indeed, in my writing, I try not
to rely on like and dislike dichotomies. I rely more on what works and doesnʼt
work.
Chapter Twelve: Donald Richie 173
DR: Infinite. Since you donʼt belong, since you are a foreign body, you have an
incredible amount of freedom. Here, black or white, you can enjoy a life which
is more or less free from society. They leave us alone, and we are really not held
responsible for things. Weʼre like big children. This is a big advantage. Iʼve
lived a life freer than I ever could have lived in America, the “Land of the Free.”
AK: How are you free in Japan in ways that you would not have been in the
United States?
DR: For one thing, I am not wanted, so Iʼm not courted. This means that I donʼt
need to be accounted for. I am the only inhabitant in my country. I can achieve
an idea of myself here that I undoubtedly would not have in the U.S. It is a
luxur y. People complain about living here simply because they expect
something else but they donʼt get it. If you know what to expect, youʼll never
be disappointed here.
DR: Just what Iʼve been outlining. The joy of being yourself means you also
have to observe the reality and the responsibility of having a self to be. You
have to be responsible for yourself. I am much more responsible here than I
would have been where I came from. As I said, I am very self-conscious here,
so I am continually aware of dif ferences, which I think is a much more
interesting way to live.
AK: On one hand, you have abundant freedom, and on the other, you have
adjusted to Japanese culture and lived in balance with your surroundings.
DR: I agree with you ─ itʼs a paradox. Thatʼs what life is. The wonderful thing
about true life is that it is never “either-or.” Itʼs always “both-and.” If you live
an either-or life, then you can see where that leads you. But if you go case by
case, and you live a both-and type of existence, like they do here, and donʼt
worry about consistency as such, then a very different type of life is possible.
Then the idea of paradox need not be a hindrance to you. Paradox depends on
point of view. If you are standing over there, you see a paradox, but if you are
standing here, then you donʼt. The fact that I am not consistent is no problem.
DR: Thatʼs right. It was Emerson, I think, who wrote that consistency indicated
a sort of smaller and narrow mind. I think that is true in that it posits a single
viewpoint and not a more universal one. Iʼm not saying that the Japanese have
this great secret. But the two places are so different, so when you come from
one and are exposed to the other, you cannot help but feel in yourself a merger
between the two.
want to stay here, so thatʼs another reason to leave. So when Japanese people
say, “If you donʼt like it here, then go home,” it makes perfect sense.
DR: Yes. If I were Japanese, I wouldnʼt stay in this country for 10 minutes. I
stay here because I am in a position which I find preferable ─ a position where
none of their qualifications for being a member apply. Itʼs a place where I am
far from being of use to anybody (except small things like getting something
published or learning English). Since I donʼt have a function here ─ the
functions of any foreigner are quite limited, really ─ you can live here quite
happily with that definition. You are streamlined. Youʼve lost a lot of “stuff.”
You can go faster. You can think more. You can feel more deeply. The fact
that I am considered to be so separate and different in Japan gives me an
advantage, a position, which I would not have had otherwise if Iʼd stayed in
Ohio.
The other thing that may be of major importance which we have not
talked about is the emotional climate in Japan and how this af fects the
emotional climate that we carry around inside of us. The emotional climate
here is so different that it often comes to people as a liberation ─ a way of
freeing yourself. Iʼve seen a lot of people who have come here and gone
completely overboard because they all of a sudden find that the things which
mean the most to them emotionally are not forbidden here or not paid much
attention to. They donʼt have to carry anything very religious, for example.
They find that things here are so much more natural than where they were
born. They are the ones who say that they have fallen in love with Japan.
I never said I fell in love with Japan. A lot of people writing about me have
said that I fell in love with Japan. But it was much more reasoned on my part.
Falling in love is something that you do against your will. Itʼs not something
that you mean to occur. You become passive when you fall in love. Maybe Iʼve
never trusted anything or anybody to the extent of falling in love. However, I
did not fall in love with Japan. I do feel great feelings of liberation though.
AK: In an inter view almost 40 years ago (Bell, 1973), you discussed your
176
friend, the renowned writer Yukio Mishimaʼs suicide. Now, do you think this
event has had any long-term impact on Japan?
DR: I wonder. Immediately, the big thing about Mishimaʼs death was not his
death but the way he did it. Everybody was terribly embarrassed─ not that he
died, but that he chose that slap-in-the-face way to do it. He didnʼt see it that
way at all. He saw himself as attached to a long and honorable history. But Iʼd
say history is quite dead. There were no copycat crimes at that time. Nobody
else went around slitting themselves open. So we had that negative aspect of
it. Then we also have the aspect personified by his wife and his family─ the
cleaning up at the ending. They wanted to make a white sepulcher of him ─
get over the embarrassment. Now that he doesnʼt matter to anybody anymore,
he can be evaluated for his true worth.
DR: I think his true worth is whatever you assign to him. I donʼt know what
his true worth is. I think his sales are better than theyʼve ever been. Heʼs
come into perspective and focus much more. The Japanese have come to
terms with him. I think that any society does this. It takes a very long time to
come to terms with anyone who strikes your emotional core. Think of Marilyn
Monroe. For many years, she was “poor, misguided Marilyn.” Did she sleep
with the President? Or did she kill herself? Did the mafia kill her? Was it the
CIA? It takes a long time when collective minds are involved to come to any
sort of equilibrium.
DR: Most of all writers, I admire Nagai Kafu. An example from the movies,
since that is my main milieu, is the director Yasujiro Ozu. He is someone
whom I absolutely respect because he had a vision and he stuck to it. He didnʼt
allow the bigwigs to tell him what to do. He told them what he was going to do.
He is called the most Japanese of all Japanese directors, but he was, in his own
way, quite revolutionary ─ his way of looking at things, his way of getting us to
Chapter Twelve: Donald Richie 177
DR: Thatʼs not for me to say. In my own way, I have, in that Iʼve kept writing.
To that extent, yes.
DR: We are in a way, but we are afforded a special place to do this from. Iʼve
written three histories of Japanese cinema. I think it is interesting that not one
of them has been translated into Japanese. If this were done, then some
Japanese sensei somewhere would feel he has been treaded upon. However,
when I wrote my books about Ozu or Kurosawa, nobody was writing about
them. So when these books came out, they were translated at once ─ mainly
because they didnʼt offer any competition. I think that my histories will never
be translated.
In retro, it is ver y easy to understand this. But it does mean that the
foreign expert is regarded from a special standpoint. Whatʼs worthy is taken,
translated, distributed, and often praised. In fact, a lot of foreign junk is praised
simply because it is foreign. But it is always understood that youʼre not one of
us. Even though what you have written is quite true, it is not the collective
Japanese viewpoint. So indeed we do get published and praised but always
with a codicil attached to it which says that there is another higher authority.
AK: Do you want to compete with the Japanese on their own terms, or do you
accept this peripheral position?
178
DR: I believe that getting accepted by the Japanese on their own terms is an
impossibility. So consequently, I am pleased to go along with what Iʼve got.
DR: I donʼt think it is a good thing, but I think that it is a very human thing. I
can look at all of the other civilizations. I can see in England, for example, that
they do exactly what the Japanese do. But they donʼt do it with the same
openness. The Japanese are not ashamed to be Japanese. England hides what
it does. The French are careful about it. The Germans are belligerent about it.
Itʼs always more visible here. There is much less pushing things under carpets
here than anywhere else I can think of.
AK: You once wrote about a dinner you had with an old, dear Japanese friend
and some other Japanese people who you were meeting for the first time
(Richie, 2001). Your friend asked in English, “You do eat sashimi, donʼt you,
Mr. Richie?” And then he added, “Chopsticks are all right, arenʼt they?” You
explained:
But for me to have seen this as exclusive callousness would have been to
miss the point entirely. . . . What is not generally apprehended in the West
is that such language, such treatment is a visible way of making me a
member of the group. Invisibly I am already a member. I know it. They
know it. And if I had said, “Come on, Mr. Kuroda, give me a break. You
know I like sashimi and use chopsticks better than you do,” . . . it would
have been accepted and chuckled over. But I would have put myself in the
position of a guest who tells his host that the steak is burned and the
brandy lousy. (p. 75)
DR: “Belonging” is not the proper word. Mr. Kuroda knew that I knew lots of
things about Japan. He is speaking nominally. The Japanese speak nominally
Chapter Twelve: Donald Richie 179
extremely well. And since I was a nominal foreigner, as the other people at the
dinner hadnʼt eaten sushi with me, they wouldnʼt know about my competence
with chopsticks. Mr. Kuroda gave lip service to the principle of difference,
which is one of the glues that bind Japanese society together. If you donʼt have
something that is utterly different ─ therefore chaotic, therefore threatening ─
then you donʼt have the glue that keeps people together. He was evoking that.
This principle has not changed, I believe, since the 15th century ─ this way of
evoking group thought that sounds Orwellian. But it is agreement ─ or “wa,”
harmony.
DR: Thatʼs right. It would have been churlish of me not to have understood
that.
AK: So you are accepting a position as a guest and also a member at the same
time.
AK: Do you feel like you are accepted among your Japanese friends and
acquaintances, or do you still feel like an outsider ─ a foreigner?
DR: To answer that, I would have to define the terms. If Iʼd stayed in Ohio, I
would have had three or four friends, probably. And I now have in Japan three
or four friends. Arenʼt three or four friends all that we ever get in life? With
this being so, I feel that I am accepted as myself. As you go through the Japan
experience, to the majority of people, you always remain the gaijin. And for a
180
minority of that group who know you a little bit better, theyʼll know you as “the
American.” And then for a much, much smaller group ─ those who really
know me ─ theyʼll know me by my name. And thatʼs about as close as youʼll
get to anybody ─ to know them by their name. And so out of one hundred
people, maybe one knows my name. I have two or three friends. So I think
that this tiny majority thinks of me as being a real person. I find that friendship
real and precious. The parts that other people donʼt know are no concern of
mine. It would have been the same in Ohio. Except that Japan is very honest
in its rejection. In Ohio, these people are not really your friends, but they act
like real “pals” ─ using your first name ─ but they wouldnʼt be any closer to
you. Japan is very real.
DR: In Japan, the hypocrisy is easier to read. I can see it coming. I donʼt have
to take it seriously. Here, if you have a pragmatic need for a person, if you have
use for a person, you donʼt have to dress it up with pretty names. You can call
it for what it is, and they will understand it for what it is. We get a quid pro quo
society, which is very helpful.
DR: I see foreigners taken much more for granted, particularly among young
Japanese. When the young enter the workforce, they become different. They
see how society works, and that says that foreigners are necessary. So people
who take foreigners for granted all of a sudden have to change their minds.
They have to learn to be afraid of them, or they have to learn to emulate them,
or they have to learn something about them. I see this happening generation
after generation.
I teach, too. I see young people getting wilder and wilder and more and
more ─ even though Iʼm their teacher ─ disregarding my position as foreigner.
This is indifference. But they snap right back when they join the workforce
and society issues its commands.
Chapter Twelve: Donald Richie 181
AK: So the younger generation is changing in that they donʼt care so much that
you are a foreigner?
DR: Yes. Then they grow up and they lose this freedom of thought. I think
this means that the young Japanese donʼt need to define themselves as rigidly
as before. If you can say, “So what?” as far as foreigners go, then your main
reason is gone for keeping yourself so Japanese.
AK: As long as you continue to evolve and educate yourself, are you satisfied in
Japan?
DR: Yes, Iʼm 84 going on 85 now, and this machine has never stopped. Itʼs
wonderful. I learn something every day. Just talking to you, Iʼve formulated a
number of things that I have never formulated before, or Iʼve at least put them
in some recognizable terms. I feel like the oyster shell adding another pearl.
Maybe the disaster is when dementia enters this process, which it hasnʼt yet.
DR: Yes, I canʼt afford to be complacent. I also canʼt pretend to know all of the
answers. I donʼt and I know that I donʼt.
AK: Are there any answers that you are still searching for after all of these
years in Japan?
DR: I think there are. A lot of this has to do with religion, and this is strange,
because I am, by nature, not a very religious person. But I am susceptible to
further understandings of things that do not seem to be understandable.
Shinto is one of the simplest religions, but at the same time, it has a way of
answering questions ─ not in any mystical way, but simply through
observations of nature. This is rather appealing. I would like to find out more
about this. To understand a religion is a contradiction in terms, so I donʼt know
what I am going to do about that.
182
AK: Which experience in Japan made the most profound impression on you?
DR: One comes up automatically. Did you ever read in my book, Japanese
Portraits: Pictures of Different People (Richie, 2006), the piece about when I
went to the shrine festival?
DR: That for me is one of the moments when I suddenly realized something
quite surprising: I knew what it was to feel Japanese ─ the discomfort. I learned
this through body English.
AK: How have foreigners in Japan changed while youʼve been here?
DR: Theyʼve changed a great deal. Before, they came to Japan because they
wanted to, because they wanted to study Japan, like Lafcadio Hearn. But little
by little, they came to belong to businesses, to the government. So they
developed reasons for coming to Japan related to their own work. Japan
became like a strip mine. The new people here are not concerned about
Japanese culture. They go to Roppongi, and they think they are in Japan. You
will still find romantic people who have come to Japan for other reasons, but
they are very few.
AK: These romantics seemed to come because they were fascinated by some
esoteric, traditional aspect of Japanese culture.
DR: Yes, thatʼs true, or else they found it here ─ one or the other. The point is
that theyʼd been searching. The whole generation of searchers has come to an
end. The idea of searching the world for meaning doesnʼt exist anymore.
AK: Youʼre saying that the hippie ideal gave way to pre-professionalism?
Chapter Thirteen
In this book, I set out to explore the extent to which Westerners who have
lived in Japan for many years feel they are accepted in Japanese society. The
interviewees recounted their triumphs as well as the secrets to their success in
achieving a sense of belonging. They also described their struggles to be
accepted and how they would like Japan to become more open towards people
with non-Japanese ancestry. In this chapter and the next, these themes are
explored further. By utilizing quotes from the interviewees, comprehensive
responses are offered to nine questions that reveal the states of belonging
among Westerners today, how they hope Japanese society will change, and the
keys to building positive relations with their Japanese neighbors, friends, and
coworkers.
There used to be this perception among many Japanese that there was an
insurmountable wall between Japanese and foreigners, so how could we
ever communicate? More people realize that thereʼs a real commonality
here ─ weʼre both mothers, weʼre teachers, or whatever it is. . . . We can
get on. Itʼs possible. . . . What we share as human beings is what is
meaningful.
But according to the interviewees, cultural differences do impact their
relationships with many Japanese people. While such diversity can be a source
of mutual interest and friendship, the interviewees also perceive that Japanese
often assume fundamental differences between themselves and Westerners;
consequently, they believe that Westerners cannot become proficient in the
Japanese language or competently practice Japanese cultural norms. Donald
Keene recalls:
There is a body of Japanese who simply canʼt accept the fact that
foreigners learn Japanese. I remember being introduced before a lecture
as someone who knew more about Japanese literature than the Japanese.
During the lecture, I wrote something in Japanese on the blackboard, and
there was a gasp in the audience. They were stunned I could write
Japanese. Now if you think about that for five minutes, how could anyone
know more about Japanese literature than the Japanese if he didnʼt know
any Japanese?
Despite the fact that Professor Keene can read classical Japanese texts
incomprehensible to numerous Japanese, the stereotype persists that
foreigners, par ticularly Western ones, cannot function adequately in the
language. Nevertheless, most of the interviewees not only speak Japanese
fluently but also are literate enough to be ef fective in Japanese work
environments.
Assumptions that Westerners are invariably different can also affect their
children. Even if these kids are native speakers of Japanese and hold Japanese
citizenship, their appearance can set them apart. Patrick Harlan, whose wife is
Japanese, asserts that some Japanese do not fully accept his children:
I have two kids, and they are growing up in Japan. . . . My wife speaks
entirely in Japanese to them. . . . But still, theyʼre “haafu.” Thatʼs the term
thatʼs used to refer to them, and theyʼre given different treatment. . . . Of
Chapter Thirteen: Piecing It All Together 185
Japanese people ─ though their motivations dif fer: in these cases, they
prioritize the desire for freedom and wanting to avoid being misunderstood,
respectively.
expatriate communities may lack the social support which would come with
more non-Japanese people in close proximity. As Tomoko Yoshida avers,
biethnic children also struggle because they simply do not meet many other
children like themselves, so finding a role model can make an extremely
positive impact:
You have to be really strong to be the only one who is different. Itʼs easier
when there are a lot of people like you. . . . I think it is necessary for
everyone to realize at some point that they are not alone.
In conclusion, a great deal of the discrimination which Westerners face in
Japan is an extension of the assumptions that they are different from Japanese
and unable to adapt to life here ─ the flipside of their elevated status as guests.
They also face the challenges of a small foreign population in Japan and a
consequent lack of social support that they might enjoy in more ethnically
diverse nations. While Westerners may feel excluded at times, discrimination
has the potential to be more severe towards Japanese living in Western
countries such as the U.S. Moreover, as “special” guests, Westerners tend to
be more privileged in Japan than nonwhites living in Western countries.
197
Chapter Fourteen
In this chapter, I continue to consider the themes explored in the previous one
by asking five new questions. Here, inter viewees contemplate whether
naturalizing has improved their acceptance among Japanese people; moreover,
they offer advice about how to become members of Japanese groups as well as
their observations of how Japanese perceptions of Westerners have evolved
since the end of World War II. But first, is it acceptable to receive preferential
treatment as a foreigner?
that Iʼm no longer accepted there because Iʼve left. Especially since my
father-in-law now needs to be cared for, and Iʼm only there on weekends, a
lot of people think that Iʼm being very selfish by having a career and being
away during the week.
When oneʼs individual desires clash with the expectations that the group
has for its members, the flipside of belonging is feeling constrained and
controlled. Therefore, the exacting expectations that come with membership
in Japanese groups also need to be considered when deciding how much to
adjust to Japan. Ultimately, rather than choosing categorically to play or reject
the Gaijin Card, most long-term Western residents in Japan find themselves
tr ying to strike a balance between the two ─ a challenge faced by Stephen
Murphy-Shigematsu:
If you want to be Japanese, you need to go by the Japanese rules. And that
can be ver y restrictive. There were times when it was clearly to my
advantage to be the gaijin. . . . [For example,] my colleagues would not
take summer vacations, but I would. . . . So I didnʼt always want to be
treated just like the other Japanese faculty.
Most all Westerners face this dilemma: to what extent does one want to be
treated like a foreigner (i.e., to be free from the sometimes over whelming
expectations and social norms that must be followed to achieve membership in
Japan), and to what extent is one willing to follow Japanese norms in order to
carry out oneʼs professional duties, social obligations, and consequently gain
the benefits of group membership (for example, acceptance from oneʼs
neighbors or a promotion at work)? There will be times when Westerners do
not adapt to Japan ─ either because they lack the knowledge to do so or the
will. But to increase oneʼs chances of acceptance in Japanese groups (for
instance, civic organizations, neighborhood communities, and corporations), it
is usually beneficial to follow the rules and to take on the roles which are most
important to gain and maintain membership in those groups. Such rules may
include gathering with oneʼs neighbors on a Sunday morning for cleaning
activities (as Karen Hill Anton does), while one such role would be heading the
PTA when it is oneʼs turn (also as Mrs. Anton has done). How each person
attempts to achieve this balance in each situation is shaped by the complex
interplay between the expectations of the Japanese with whom she is interacting
200
(whether they are coworkers, neighbors, bosses, or friends), her ability to use
the Japanese language and adhere to Japanese cultural norms, her willingness
to make such linguistic and cultural shifts, and who has the power to determine
which cultureʼs language and set of norms (or what combination of those
cultures’ languages and norms) is to be followed.
The choices of either adopting the Japanese way or marching to the beat
of your own drummer might seem diametrically opposed ─ unless you are
Donald Richie. Mr. Richie contends that it is possible to transcend the debate
about whether or not it is right to play the Gaijin Card by embracing the
experience of being foreign in its entirety, including both of the seemingly
mutually-exclusive choices of treatment as a member or as a guest in Japanese
society:
Iʼve always made an attempt to swallow Japan whole ─ not to discriminate
so much between what I like or donʼt. . . . The wonderful thing about true
life is that it is never “either-or.” Itʼs always “both-and.”
From this viewpoint, trying to minimize the disadvantages of being foreign
by playing or eschewing the Gaijin Card creates an untenable duality. In other
words, since both the disadvantages and the advantages are the products of
the same phenomenon, i.e., Westernersʼ elevated yet peripheral position in
Japanese society, it may be impossible to eliminate one without losing the
other. As Zen Buddhism teaches, it is more fruitful to accept seemingly
paradoxical experiences as inextricable parts of a larger phenomenon ─ or
simply to embrace what is.
In conclusion, to gain acceptance from Japanese, what ultimately may be
more important than oneʼs choice to use the Gaijin Card is how valued a
personʼs contributions are to the Japanese groups with which he regularly
associates. As Patrick Harlan reflects, “True acceptance comes when you are
contributing to society as fully as anyone else.” If Westerners are giving to
their work organizations, communities, and society, then when they do rely on
the Gaijin Card, Japanese people are more likely to honor it ─ as mutual trust
and good will have already been established.
Chapter Fourteen: Further Insights on Westerners Acceptance in Japan 201
or “OK, thatʼs who you are. I respect that, and I respect your right to that,
but Iʼm not sure where to place you.”
In this way, Dr. Murphy-Shigematsuʼs reception among Japanese when he
told them that he had naturalized was different from Professor Arudouʼs and
Sakamotoʼs. Perhaps in the interim between Professor Murphy-Shigematsuʼs
naturalization (which occurred earlier) and Professor Sakamotoʼs and Arudouʼs,
more Japanese accepted that Westerners might do so. On the other hand, the
ambivalence which Dr. Murphy-Shigematsu describes has not disappeared
completely ─ i.e., Japanese may assume that naturalization among Westerners
is a consequence of globalization but also feel incongr uence because
Westerners becoming Japanese citizens challenges their conceptions of who is
Japanese and what Japanese people are like. As Professor Murphy-Shigematsu
recounts:
Somebody at work might say that Japanese people donʼt have beards.
Then Iʼd say that I have a beard and Iʼm Japanese. . . . I mean, what does a
Japanese look like? I am Japanese, and this is the way I look, therefore
Japanese also look like me.
In summar y, Westerners who have become Japanese citizens feel that
they belong more than they did prior to their naturalization ─ especially in
recent years. Furthermore, in many respects, Japanese accept this choice to
adopt a new nationality. As long as naturalization among Westerners is
relatively rare, there will continue to be times when Japanese are confused or
challenged by such choices, but many Japanese react positively overall to
Westerners becoming Japanese.
cheering the team. . . . Everyone was really into the game while it was
happening, and afterwards, we watched the game video. We all focused
together.
By attending all group events (for example, games and video sessions)
and doing whatever was asked of him to support his teammates, Mr. Bondy
was accepted as a team member, and he has behaved the same way in the
Japanese companies where he has been employed since then ─ for example,
by working late and joining many committees.
This is not to say, however, that the interviewees must follow every rule to
be accepted in Japanese groups. As Debito Arudou advises:
Understand the ways things are done around you, but also understand
that you need to stand up sooner or later and say, “Iʼm sorry, but Iʼm an
adult, too, and this is the way that I do things” and reach some kind of
rapprochement.
In other words, all of the interviewees made decisions about what to retain
from their heritage cultures and what to adapt to in Japan in order to achieve a
comfortable balance. Even when choosing the ways of oneʼs native culture, it
can be done in a manner which preserves oneʼs connection to the Japanese
community; moreover, relationships with Japanese people may actually become
stronger. Karen Hill Anton achieved this delicate equilibrium after she initially
expressed to her daughterʼs elementary school teachers her disenchantment
with what she saw as an overly rigid and conformist school system:
I started changing my attitude because I realized the teachers were really
hard-working and diligent. . . . [They] were open to talking with us. I
realized that they had a tough and strict curriculum to stick to, and could
not really veer from the Ministry of Educationʼs system.
Her comments illustrate several important points. Although she was
critical at first, she remained open to learning about the educational system,
and by dialoguing with teachers, she could ultimately recognize its positive
points. Mrs. Anton and her husband later chose to send their kids to high
school outside of Japan because they perceived that the system grew overly
rigid and conformist at the secondary level. But because she did not initially
dismiss the cultural differences she encountered in Japanese education, her
children enjoyed the unique experience as Westerners of being schooled in a
Chapter Fourteen: Further Insights on Westerners Acceptance in Japan 205
Japanese community.
Mrs. Antonʼs experience also illustrates that it is not obligator y for
foreigners to accept every aspect of Japan; striking a balance which includes
staying true to oneʼs cherished heritage cultural values is also an important
part of thriving here. At the same time, it is important to remain in discussion
with Japanese people (or non-Japanese who are knowledgeable about Japan) so
that new meanings emerge around perceived cultural differences. In the
process, informed decisions can be made about whether or not specific
elements of Japanese culture can be welcomed into oneʼs life, and when they
can, benefits may be found in the previously unacceptable (in Mrs. Antonʼs
case, a Japanese education for her kids). Therefore, agreement with everything
in Japan is not necessary, but a certain degree of openness to difference is.
And ultimately, by building good faith and trust through the times when the
interviewees did adapt to Japan, Japanese people seemed more likely to accept
when they did not.
To write an exhaustive list of points that one needs to adhere to in Japan,
or a foolproof “recipe for belonging,” is probably impossible. In each group,
there are critical social norms, and what those norms are, as well as when they
should be heeded, is negotiated among the members as they interact. But in a
broader sense, what people do to belong, and specifically what the interviewees
did to become members of Japanese groups, can largely be generalized by
borrowing from the research of Jennifer Lois (1999), who described three
dimensions on which acceptance needs to be gained for people to be fully
admitted into a group or organization: consciousness, resources, and commitment.
On the dimension of consciousness, to achieve core membership, prospective
members must remain humble and accept any task assigned to help the group
achieve its primary goals. In terms of resources, they should have mastered a
skill which the group values. Finally, they make a long-term commitment to the
group in terms of sustained participation in its activities. In order to gain full
trust and achieve core group membership, newcomers must receive high
evaluations on all three dimensions among the “players” who are most influential
in ascribing insider status.
Similarly, the inter viewees have been admitted to various types of
Japanese groups because they have adapted on all three dimensions: they are
206
committed to these groupsʼ goals, spend long hours helping them achieve
those goals, and possess skills which contribute instrumentally to such
pursuits. By doing so, Michael Bondy was accepted at his previous company:
I was the leader of some of the teams that I joined. Part of the reason, I
think, is because I got heavily involved. . . . [All of] my team members . . .
wanted to work hard, so I think I was accepted because I had the same
attitude.
Another vital point is related to language proficiency. Typically, it is not
necessar y to speak, read, and write Japanese exactly as a native, but
acceptance by Japanese people is often facilitated when one is functional ─ that
is, linguistically competent enough to follow the basic norms which guide daily
social interactions and to make valued group contributions. As Daniel Kahl
explains, both conversational fluency and literacy are imperative in doing so at
work and in his local community:
I can read a newspaper and my [TV] scripts. . . . I know about 2,000 kanji,
so Iʼm totally functional, and I think thatʼs a prerequisite for being
accepted. I hate to say it, but there are a lot of foreigners who complain, “Iʼm
not accepted in society!” Thatʼs because you canʼt read the sign that
explains how to put out your garbage. And people get mad at you for
mixing cans with bottles. Simple as it may seem, those are the little things
that get the neighbors angry.
Various interviewees also stress the importance of having changed their
communication style to be accepted in Japanese groups. These interviewees
as well as many scholars (Barnlund, 1989; Gercik, 1992; Goldman, 1994;
Gudykunst & Nishida, 1994; Morisaki & Gudykunst, 1994; Tezuka, 1992)
highlight the role of nonconfrontational, face-preser ving communication in
developing positive intercultural relationships with Japanese people ─ where
an emphasis is placed upon listening carefully to othersʼ opinions and showing
empathy towards their point of view, even if one does not necessarily agree.
Paul Snowden, when asked the keys to his achievements at Waseda University,
replies, “Listening a lot. Understanding that criticism does not need to be
vociferous or even directly delivered in order to be effective.”
Or, as Daniel Kahl reflects:
I can get people to see my point of view without being too obnoxious or
Chapter Fourteen: Further Insights on Westerners Acceptance in Japan 207
sister was not because she physically “passed” for being Japanese. The owners
made this decision about Professor Arudouʼs daughters, as well as other
members of his party, based merely on physical characteristics ─ rather than
on Japanese cultural knowhow, or in this case, the capability to follow the
bathhouseʼs rules. As Professor Arudou concludes, “It doesnʼt really matter
what a customerʼs nationality is. The issue is whether or not this individual
customer abides by the rules. So stop assuming that behavior is based on
nationality.”
In other words, it is prejudice to expect that people will break rules merely
because they do not “look” Japanese, and it is discriminatory to refuse them
services based upon this assumption. Most of Professor Arudouʼs political
activism is directed towards mollifying or eradicating such prejudicial attitudes
(i.e., that non-Japanese will act in a deviant or untrustworthy manner) and
discriminator y practices (i.e., denying non-Japanese rights, benefits, or
services). Realizing these goals is essential to make Japan a more hospitable
place for foreigners.
Professor Ar udou emphasizes that nationality and behavior do not
necessarily correlate. In other words, when Japanese people predict how non-
Japanese (or, like Professor Arudou and his daughter, Japanese citizens who
do not physically “pass” as Japanese) will behave or think based on their
national background, especially when those foreigners have spent many years
in Japan, mistaken assumptions often result. Why? Culture is not encoded in
your DNA. In the same way that a language can be learned, so can a culture.
Moreover, this can be accomplished by children or adults. So to make
categorical rules about who has access to facilities ─ based merely upon
national background ─ is invidious and discriminatory. One cannot tell how
much non-Japanese have acculturated to Japan just by looking at them. Most
important is their mastery of the cultural norms which are requisite to the
facilities to which they are tr ying to gain access ─ in this case, rules for
Japanese public bathing etiquette. Therefore, when deciding who can use
facilities or, by extension, who can join Japanese ingroups (for example,
permanent, full-time corporate employees; neighborhood associations; or
Japanese society), since culture is learned, it is critical to look past appearances
and see the extent that foreigners have acculturated to Japan ─ specifically, the
Chapter Fourteen: Further Insights on Westerners Acceptance in Japan 209
degree to which they are able to follow the rules of a given facility or to
contribute positively to the group which they would like to enter.
With globalization and an increasingly mobile workforce migrating to and
from Japan, nationality no longer necessarily signifies oneʼs language or culture ─
it is a legal designation first and foremost. Those who do not “look” Japanese ─
whether they are born from two foreign parents or one Japanese parent and
one non-Japanese ─ may be most comfortable being educated and/or working
in Japanese. Conversely, Japanese nationals with two Japanese parents who
have lived abroad for extended periods might not feel confident in educational
or professional contexts if Japanese is the lingua franca. So appearances and
countries of origin can be deceiving. Paul Snowden captures the need for such
a revolution in thought and consequent policy changes when detailing his
collegeʼs response to a Russian student who had been previously educated
exclusively in Japan, as well as a Japanese student educated entirely in the U.S.:
“Nowadays we define our two categories of students in different ways. We donʼt
mention passports and nationalities. We mention which educational system
theyʼve come through.”
A related trend is that many interviewees have observed an erosion of
Japanese traditional values during their time here. Donald Keene laments the
loss of enryo, and Robin Sakamoto recounts that around 1985, Japanese “people
valued the common good more than now. The reason that you were able to get
a high level of commitment from people at work and in society back then was
because they cared about each other.”
Due to cultural differences between generations of Japanese people and
the fact that many more Japanese are spending substantial time abroad,
diversity among the Japanese themselves has grown. Therefore, some
Westerners who have long resided in Japan (like Professors Keene and
Sakamoto) may embrace certain traditional elements of Japanese culture more
than many Japanese themselves. When this happens, the distance between
Westerners who have been in Japan for decades and more traditional Japanese,
in terms of their values and behavior, might be smaller than that between two
Japanese nationals (particularly if one is traditional and the other disavows
such traditions). This further blurs the boundaries between people based on
differences in nationality or country of origin.
210
Chapter Fifteen:
Japanese people. Karen Hill Anton has adopted this style to the degree that
she has struggled to relate to some American friends:
I realized [that my communication style had changed] when I was visiting
a c l o s e f r i e n d i n t h e U . S . We h a d s o m e d i s a g r e e m e n t o r
misunderstanding, and she said, “Well, why didnʼt you tell me what you
were thinking?” I probably said that I was sorry, but at the time what I
was really thinking was, “Well, why didnʼt you know? You should be aware
enough, engaged enough, and considerate enough to know what is going
on.”
In another acculturation domain ─ that of values ─ Donald Keene has
embraced enryo, and Robin Sakamoto lauds the economic egalitarianism which
she discovered upon her arrival in Japan: “I really admire what Japan did after
World War II: they took care of ever ybody and wanted ever yone to be
successful in a strong economy.”
As Professors Keene and Sakamoto have adopted these values, their
related behaviors have also become similar to the Japanese. And through such
acculturation, they have also been more deeply accepted in Japanese society.
However, the acculturation process does not always result in people adapting
to their host culture and becoming one of the “locals.” Some expatriates or
immigrants recoil from intercultural contact ─ choosing to remain separate
and live largely as they did in their home countr y (for example, eating the
same food, speaking the same language, and spending free time almost
exclusively with people from their native land). Others want a place in their
new society, though not at the expense of giving up their heritage culture.
Therefore, acculturation presents us with choices as to whether or not we want
to adapt to the new culture, as well as the extent to which we want to retain our
heritage culture. Such choices, and the enactments in daily life of such
choices, are the focus of acculturation strategies.
John Berryʼs framework of acculturation strategies (Berry, 1980, 1990,
2003, 2008; Berry & Sam, 1997; Berry, Trimble, & Olmedo, 1986) is certainly
the best known in the field of acculturation studies (Ward, 1996). Acculturation
strategies include both our attitudes regarding how we wish to become
involved with people we encounter from other cultural groups as well as our
consequent behaviors towards them in day-to-day intercultural contact. As a
Chapter Fifteen: Acculturation Strategies and Westerners Relational Satisfaction in Japan 215
Figure 1
The Berry framework of acculturation strategies
The vertical axis in Figure 1 captures the degree ─ from low to high ─
that dominant group members (such as Japanese people in Japan) expect non-
dominant group members (for example, Westerners in Japan) to retain their
heritage culture. The horizontal axis reflects the extent that non-dominant
group members are preferred to interact with the dominant group ─ ranging
from strongly refused to highly desired. In other words, acculturation
strategies refer to the extent that Japanese expect Westerners to behave
according to their native cultures, as well as the extent to which Japanese
would like Westerners to have social contact with Japanese people generally.
216
discouraged from living according to their heritage culture. For example, Glen
Fukushima describes many positive aspects of being Japanese American in
Japan, but there is also a tendency for them to experience Marginalization. As
an exchange student, Mr. Fukushima encountered Japanese undergraduates
who prefer red Caucasian to Japanese American exchange students ─
excluding Japanese Americans because they were nonwhite. Moreover, Mr.
Fukushima states about Japanese from that same generation, “There are some
older elites in Japan who believe either that Japanese Americans arenʼt truly
American or that they donʼt deserve to be given attention because they donʼt
have clout.” Such dual rejection─ both from Japanese groups and as “quasi-”
Americans ─ smacks of Marginalization.
one more closely examines the meaning of Assimilation, which is, strictly
speaking, according to Alba and Nee (1997), “the disappearance of an ethnic/
racial distinction and the cultural and social dif ferences that express it”
(p. 863). The total extinction of an adultʼs heritage cultural identity and its
effects on her behavior is an unrealistic outcome of acculturation─ though it
might occur in isolated acculturation domains. Since Westerners have not
usually undergone their primary socialization in Japan, complete Assimilation,
including universal mastery of Japanese behavioral and linguistic norms, is
highly unlikely. Rather, as Westerners continue to acculturate, they build an
ever-growing situational mastery of the Japanese language and cultural norms,
and with it, their freedom to choose between Integration and Assimilation also
grows, rather than being limited just to Integration.
2004; Bourhis & Dayan, 2004; Bourhis, Moise, Perreault, & Senecal, 1997;
Montreuil & Bourhis, 2001) provides a more specific framework for assessing
the degree of fit between the acculturation strategies of immigrants (or,
according to Komisarof, 2009, long-term foreign residents) and their host
cultureʼs members, as well as that compatibilityʼs impact upon intercultural
relations between the two.
The IAM has evolved from Ber r yʼs framework: given those four
acculturation strategies, there are 16 possible combinations of such strategies
that two people (or two groups) can experience in relation to each other.
However, the IAM also posits a new, fifth acculturation strategy, so it actually
includes 25 acculturation strategy combinations. I prefer in my research,
though, to use the basic four-strategy model (with 16 combinations) because
the original IAM is based on a method for assessing acculturation strategies
which has been heavily criticized in the academic community (Rudmin, 2003;
Ryder, Alden, & Paulhus, 2000; Ward & Rana-Deuba, 1999). To avoid such
problems, I will use the modified 16-combination form of the IAM in this
chapter.
In this form of the IAM, the 16 remaining combinations of acculturation
strategies between host culture members and foreign residents are divided
into three types of compatibility, which reflect three distinct levels of quality in
intercultural relations. Each combination of acculturation strategies and its
consequent compatibility is illustrated in Figure 2:
Figure 2
The simplified IAM
Non-dominant group acculturation strategies
Other inter viewees achieved Consensual fits with both sides choosing
Integration. Daniel Kahl has attained such balance because he expects to be
treated differently by Japanese people, so he is not offended in such instances.
In fact, being “different” has been one of the keys to his success:
A disadvantage of being a foreigner [is] you stick out like a sore thumb.
The advantage of being a foreigner is that people remember you. Iʼve
been a businessman for some 25-odd years, and I know that having people
remember you is an advantage. . . . So I was able to use my disadvantages
to my advantage, perhaps. Some people say, “Oh, I want to be treated just
like ever ybody else.” I donʼt understand why ever yone expects that.
Immigrants are never treated just like everybody else in any country.
Donald Richie has achieved an Integration-Integration Consensual fit in
which he simultaneously accepts a position as both a guest and a member:
If an autistic child goes to a kindergarten, he becomes a legal member of
that class, but heʼs still an autistic child. So he has double citizenship.
That is very much me ─ like any foreigner here. He is put in a special
class for autism, but at the same time, he is given all of the honors and
securities of belonging to this particular class. He gets a double dose.
And if he is smart, then he recognizes this.
Therefore, whether Westerners achieve a Consensual fit with Japanese
through mutually-held Integration or Assimilation acculturation strategies, the
results are the same: while synergistic, positive intercultural relations are not
guaranteed, they are certainly promulgated.
foreigner who will work for much less. . . . That replacement can happen
easily because all that the employer has to do is not renew the foreigner’s
contract. On the other hand, Japanese, for the most part, are not on
contracts if they work full-time ─ making an instant firing that much more
difficult and something that can be legally actionable.
Glen Fukushima experiences Conflictual acculturation strategy alignments
in the occasional instances when he faces Marginalization by Japanese who
think he is somehow less American, and therefore to be treated with less
respect, because of his Japanese ancestry. Mr. Fukushima prefers Integration,
in which his American cultural identity is recognized, yet he is accepted as a
highly-skilled professional and leader. These divergent expectations for
Marginalization and Integration can easily lead to Conflictual outcomes.
Robin Sakamoto is enmeshed in Conflictual dynamics with neighbors in
northern Japan. She wants to maintain her membership in the local Japanese
community, yet at the same time, act according to widespread American values
which encourage women to develop their careers (Integration). However,
since her move to Tokyo to work as a professor, she has felt ostracized, as
neighbors who once expected her Assimilation now enforce Separation:
A lot of people think that Iʼm being very selfish by having a career and
being away during the week. . . . I am the oldest sonʼs wife, and I am
supposed to take care of my in-laws. As long as I accepted that role, I was
accepted by the people in my community. But once I no longer did so, . . .
I was suddenly an outsider.
In each of the cases above, Conflictual alignments of acculturation
strategies do not bode well for intercultural relations. Moreover, many
researchers (Barrette, Bourhis, Personnaz, & Personnaz, 2004; Komisarof,
2009; Piontkowski, Rohmann, & Florack, 2002; Zagefka & Brown, 2002) have
concluded that intercultural relations in Conflictual alignments are clearly
more negative when compared to Consensual or Problematic ones. Therefore,
Conflictual fits should be avoided if Westerners want to develop satisfying
relations with Japanese people.
228
uncomfortable. But thatʼs not racial prejudice ─ itʼs just curiosity. Iʼd stare,
too, if I were them. So I was able to deal with that, no problem.”
Because of these divergent interpretations of what it means to be stared
at, Mr. Kahl and another Westerner who experienced such stares might
assume that the Japanese have very different acculturation strategies towards
them, which would in tur n result in dif ferent acculturation strategy
combinations (Consensual, Problematic, or Conflictual). Therefore, it is wise
to treat these acculturation strategy combinations as constructed phenomena
which are “built” by individuals when they interpret the behavior of cultural
outgroup members ─ and hence ultimately reflect that personʼs perceptions ─
as opposed to verifiable “truths” about the acculturation strategies of cultural
outgroup members. Remember that truth, as well as beauty, is often in the eye
of the beholder.
difficult to create an open society for foreigners within Japan. Namely, when
Japanese people continually speak Western languages (usually English) and
adjust to Westernersʼ cultures, pockets are created within Japan where
Westerners can operate almost exclusively according to their heritage cultures.
In such insulated groups, Westerners are often surrounded by Japanese who
are proficient in English and who have high intercultural communicative
competence. In these groups of exceptional Japanese, Westerners who prefer
Integration can live comfortably, but they might experience challenges being
accepted by the general Japanese population ─ unless they gain some mastery
over the Japanese linguistic and intercultural competencies requisite for
communicating effectively in broader society.
Therefore, when Westernersʼ degree of acculturation to Japan is small,
Consensual fits of Integration can have negative peripheral ef fects ─
particularly if Westerners become complacent and fail to deepen their level of
acculturation, which would have enabled them to communicate with a wider
range of Japanese people. Moreover, from experiences with (or mass-media
exposure to) Westerners who are mostly unacculturated, Japanese may then
overgeneralize and assume with all Westerners, they must speak English and
accommodate Western cultural norms or the Westerners will be unable to
function. When such notions become prevalent, as they are today in large
swaths of Japanese society, the broader acceptance of Westerners becomes
principally limited to Japanese who are both willing and able to provide such
special care. If, however, Westerners achieve Consensual fits in Integration
strategies and also acculturate to the extent that they can develop positive
intercultural relationships with an expansive circle of people (like Daniel Kahl
and Glen Fukushima), then both types of Consensual fits, whether grounded
in Integration or Assimilation, should be similarly effective.
What can Japanese people learn from the IAM to improve their
intercultural relationships?
In order to create Consensual fits, Japanese need to adopt Assimilation or
Integration acculturation strategies. So how can such strategies be advanced
further among Japanese people? One key lies in widespread notions about
how to promote globalization (“guroubaruka”) in Japan (the previously-popular
catchphrase being internationalization or “kokusaika”)─ largely through the
creation of a Japanese mindset that is open to non-Japanese. There are two
basic types of such domestically-based globalization. The first is enacted with
foreigners who are not adept in Japanese and have little intercultural
communicative competence in regards to Japan ─ generally newcomers such
as tourists and short-term sojourners, as well as long-term residents who have
234
Figure 3
Reciprocal relationships in acculturation strategies
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242
Author Index
A Hoelker, P. 216
Alba, R. 221 Horenczyk, G. 223, 228
Alden, L. 222 Hutnik, N. 192
Anton, K.H. 12, 41-55, 183, 195, 199, 203,
204-205, 214, 216, 232, 237, 238 J
Arudou, D. 73-87, 191, 201, 202, 204, 207-208, Jasinskaja-Lahti, I. 223
218, 226, 236
K
B Kahl, D. 89-101, 189, 193, 202, 206, 210, 211,
Baker, C. 190 216, 224, 228-229, 230
Barnlund, D. 167, 206 Keene, D. 15-26, 184, 209, 210, 211, 214, 218,
Barrette, G. 221, 223, 227, 228 225, 231-232
Bell, R. 175 Kim, U. 223
Berry, J.W. 214-215, 217, 218, 221, 223 Komisarof, A. 207, 222, 227, 228, 234
Bondy, M. 103-115, 183, 187, 189, 190,
191-192, 203-204, 206, 217, 232 L
Bourhis, R. 221-223, 227, 228, 236 Liebkind, K. 223
Brislin, R.W. 195 Lois, J. 205, 232
Brown, R. 221, 223, 227, 228
Buunk, B. 228 M
Maciamo, M. 8
D Moise, L. 222
Dayan, J. 222, 228 Montreuil, A. 222, 228
Dower, J.W. 7 Morisaki, S. 206
Morris-Suzuki, T. 9
F Murphy-Shigematsu, S. 129-138, 185,
Florack, A. 216, 223, 227, 228 188, 190, 195, 199, 201, 202, 231, 234, 238
Fukushima, G.S. 139-155, 186, 188, 190,
217, 219, 224, 227, 229, 230, 232, 234-235 N
Furuya, S. 6 Nakayama, T. 190
Navarro, M. 190
G Nee, V. 221
Gercik, P. 206 Nishida, T. 206
Goldman, A. 206
Greer, T. 235 O
Gudykunst, W. 206 Obdrzalek, P. 216
Oda, M. 6
H Olmedo, E.L. 214
Harlan, P. 27-40, 184-185, 187, 189, 190, 193, 194,
197-198, 200, 217, 219, 220, 225 P
Hismanoglu, M. 10 Paulhus, D. 222
Author Index 247
Perreault, S. 222
Personnaz, B. 221, 227, 228
Personnaz, M. 221, 227, 228
Piontkowski, U. 216, 223, 227, 228
Poole, G. 207
Prins, K. 228
R
Rana-Deuba, A. 222
Richie, D. 169-182, 186, 193, 200, 210-211, 224
Rohmann, A. 223, 227, 228
Rudmin, F. 222
Ryder, A. 222
S
Sakamoto, R. 7, 57-71, 185, 197, 198, 201,
202, 209, 214, 223, 227
Sam, D. 214
Schmitz, P. 223
Senecal, S. 222
Snowden, P. 117-125, 192, 195, 203, 206,
209, 237
T
Tabuchi, H. 6
Takaki, R. 190
Tezuka, C. 206
Trimble, J.E. 214
V
Van Oudenhoven, J.P. 228
W
Ward, C. 214, 222
Y
Yoshida, T. 157-168, 188, 191, 194, 195, 196,
198, 211
Z
Zagefka, H. 221, 223, 227, 228
248
Subject Index
B D
Barthes, Roland 171 Devos, George 167
belonging (in Japanese groups) 10, 13, 62, discrimination 10, 52-53, 73, 76-77, 81, 93, 138,
68, 158, 163, 173, 174-175, 178-180, 182, 183-187, 191-196, 206-208, 223, 226, 228-229, 236
193, 197-210, 213, 224, 237-239 dual nationality 62, 81, 91, 123
Berry framework of acculturation strategies
214-219, 221-222 E
biethnic people 35, 129, 157, 163-166, 184-185, education (Japanese system) 39, 43-44,
196, 245 122-123, 138, 147, 204-205, 209
bilingualism 44-45, 103-104 elementary school (in Japan) 33, 35, 44, 58,
birthrate (declining) 5 70, 112, 204
Bubble Economy 73, 79-80, 89, 91 English conversation classes 126
Buddhism 8, 200 English Fellows Program 89
bullying 45, 70 enryo 24, 209, 214, 245
escapism 65-66
C European Americans 132, 133, 185
calligraphy (Japanese) 49 exceptionalism 188
Caucasians 11, 75, 80, 84, 93, 107, 139, expatriates 69, 146, 196, 203, 214, 217, 218
144-145, 151, 152, 153, 155, 162, 163, 185, 186, 188,
Subject Index 249
universalism 188
University of Tokyo 57, 64, 129, 130, 135, 137,
138, 140, 145, 148, 149, 160, 231, 238
V
values (widespread in a cultural group)
10, 65, 78, 84, 183, 205, 209, 213-214, 227
visas (acquisition of) 36, 69, 82, 111, 194
Vogel, Ezra 142-143, 145-146
W
Waley, Arthur 25
Waseda University 117, 121, 122, 206
White Privilege 67
work-life balance 106
World War II 7, 63, 68, 97, 169, 197, 214
Author Profile
平成24年12月 1 日 第 1 刷発行
著 者 Adam Komisarof(アダム・コミサロフ)
発 行 所 麗澤大学出版会
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