I’m 22, half American and half Japanese, and was born and raised in Japan. I’ve never been to the U.S., despite speaking English much better than Japanese. I’m the oldest of three, with a younger brother and sister. My Japanese mother and American father divorced years ago; I’ll explain more later.
I’m not sharing this to make anyone feel sorry for me, but because people’s lives are complicated, and we sometimes wish we could trade problems. These are simply the facts and experiences as they happened. Growing up was unorthodox: we had no TV, I went to the hospital only twice despite several serious injuries, and although we weren’t religious, my parents believed in ghosts, supernatural activity, and omens.
Japanese public elementary school was tough. I was one of six half-foreign students among about 316 children, so minor racism was normal. My ethnicity, difficulty with Japanese, and pressure to pass made friendship hard. My parents sometimes kept me up until 2 a.m. to study, and I grew used to physical fights. International middle school was strange. Despite its good reputation, I nearly failed, and the self-sabotaging mindset I’d developed in elementary school persisted. I was depressed, unable to think positively, and struggled with a disorganized brain.
