Different

Sunday afternoon my daughter and I attended her friend's birthday party.

She was the only blue eyed, blonde hair girl there.

She was the only completely white kid there.

And I wonder if she notices these things.  Does she know that none of the kids look like her? Does she understand that not everyone speaks like her?

At school a little girl asked her "What is applesauce?"

I'm the parent that packed my kid a weird lunch with strange foods.

And I think perhaps my child does know these things because she asked for a rice ball in her lunch.

I grew up in a small town where we had one family that was black.  One family.  A mixed family. They still live there.  I never thought anything about race, but with each new candle we put on my child's birthday cake, I wonder more and more what it was like for those kids to grow up being the only minority. Because my daughter is growing up as the outsider.

It's hard to put into words race and white privilege when you live in Tokyo.  Many times I feel privileged.  People think I am a tourist and are welcoming.  On the playground mothers and children go out of their way to give in to my child.  We are given random gifts on the train.  I have a pass to mess up the unspoken customs.  I can bend the rules because I am the stranger and do not know better.

And other times I feel completely lost and invisible.  It's like I don't exist here.  I go to the store and the cashier will ask me a question I've not heard before. I feel stupid.  Everything I have learned about buying groceries is gone, and I stand speechless and make guesses to the answer of the question.  I am hopelessly confused as to what I did wrong. I answered the question wrong and did not get a bag for my groceries. I feel foolish as I try to creatively stuff things in the stroller.  I'm embarrassed as I try to pretend this was my plan. Inside I'm crying.  I have an Master's degree and a Superior IQ and I can't even buy groceries the correct way.

I can never be equal to my Japanese peers.  I can never become a citizen.  If I get accused of committing a crime, I most likely will be found guilty.  I am always wrong.   I do not have the privilege of discounts provided to tourists, yet do not have the benefits of a citizen.  Even though my daughter has a Japanese name, the city ward office sends all her paperwork with her name in katakana, an alphabet reserved for things that are foreign, things that are different, things that are not Japanese.

Since my child is starting school, we talked about stranger danger.  I asked her if she knew what a stranger was.  She said, "Yes, they try to touch my hair."  My heart broke.  My child has been reduced to an object. When strangers tell her she's cute or a doll, she screams out "NO!"  She tells me she's not a doll.  She's a human.

I wonder when we'll start seeing each other as human.

The Huangs & Roths

One of our favorite shows to watch is Fresh Off theBoat.  Don’t let the name keep you away.  It’s a very loving comedy about a Taiwanese family that moves from Washington DC to Orlando, Florida in the 90s.  They struggle to keep their Chinese heritage and culture while trying to be a successful middle class family in Florida.  Throw in a handful of nostalgic 90s references (the oldest boy loves hip-hop and rap) and it’s just hilarious.

It’s also our story. 

We relate so much to the Huang family in the show.  They are the Asian family living in white Florida, and we are the white Americans living in Eastern Asia.  We laugh because we can relate to their struggle to learn a new culture as well as keep their own.  For example, on their show you walk into their house and it’s like their own private escape to China.  Our apartment is the same way.  It’s very Americanized (except for our Japanese Tatami room).  Our neighbor kids come over to see how the “other” lives.  

They work hard to celebrate their own culture traditions and holidays, just like we do.  In one episode (The Year of the Rat) they can’t go back to DC for Chinese New Year, so they have to make due with celebrating in Florida.  They are disappointed when they go to the community center where an Asian Culture Appreciation group is hosting a New Year’s Party.  They are the only Chinese people there and somehow the white people have gotten all the details wrong.  Switch to our lives in Japan, and Christmas here is very similar.  We can’t go home, but eating KFC chicken and Christmas cake is not our tradition.  Thankfully, like the Huangs, we have friends in our new land that help us not only keep our culture, but share our traditions.

The third season premiere was this week.  The Huang family went to Taiwan to attend a wedding….and experience reverse culture shock. Jessica, the mother, struggled to do things that she was once good at, such as shopping at the night market.  (It reminded me of the first time I just completely shut down trying to order at restaurant.  Um, what do I say again?)  During one scene, Jessica was walking down the street with her three boys.  She turned to one of the boys and said “who are you?”  She had lost her youngest and another kid was standing with them.  (Her son was standing back 50 meters holding a red flag up that said “Mommy!”).  I laughed so hard.  This is me when we are back in the states.  I remember the first time I took Nozomi to the Mall of America.  I felt so paranoid and on high alert, because if I lost her, every kid looked alike! They all had blonde hair.  This is never an issue when we are the only white family around.

At the end of the episode, the parents were discussing their situation.  The father was regretting moving to the US because perhaps he could have had a better life in Taiwan.  The mother (who is the proudest of her heritage) said that she had changed.  She was glad they had decided to take the risk and come to the US.  But they also talked about how they didn’t really fit in either country. 

“That’s us!”  I said.

And it is.

We’ve weaved our cultures and traditions with the ones we’ve embraced in the many places we've been to become something new.