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This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Waseda chapter.

This is a conversation that I usually have with people who I am getting to know:

“So Megumi, what even are you?”

“It’s complicated. I am Japanese by blood but I have lived in the United States for 17 years, and I am a citizen of both the United States and Japan.”

“So do you consider yourself as Japanese or American?”

“I don’t know…I guess I’m a mixture of both.”

One of the main reasons why I wanted to write this article was because,after moving to Japan, I really struggled with my identity. I have noticed that Japanese people find immense comfort in labels, but I did not fit any of them that were given to me. I am not a kikoku-shijo (returnee), ha-fu (half Japanese), or gaikokujin (foreigner), and to not be able to use any of these labels made me feel like I was not a part of Japanese society. So, I thought I would give the long version of the answer and the story of how I came to answer these questions in this manner.

Until I was in third grade, I was completely content with my identity. I spoke English at school and Japanese at home. On Saturday mornings I went to Japanese school where I was to speak Japanese. My perception of this “normal routine” changed drastically in fourth grade when a girl came up to me at the playground and told me, “You don’t belong here” simply because I was one of the few Asians in a predominantly white neighborhood. Naturally, that hurt a lot. It was the first time that I realized that my bilingual situation was unique.

For the next couple of years, I continued to think about what label worked the best for me. Should I have gone with my looks and say that I’m just Japanese or with how I was raised and say that I’m just American? The answer to this question varied greatly depending on who I was talking to. If I was with a Japanese person, they would consider me as the “Americanized Japanese girl,” but if I was with an American, they would refer to me as the “Japanese.” It felt weird for me to have that dissonance between the two countries, and I yearned for an identity that was applicable to both countries.

But then something happened in Japan that completely upset my inner balance of my two nationalities.

During my summer vacations, I was kindly given the opportunity to enter the public school system for a few weeks in Japan each year. When I went during the summer of eighth grade, it started out like any other year. There were a few people who remembered me from previous years, and most people were just fascinated by how a Japanese-looking girl could have such perfect English but sometimes struggled to communicate in Japanese. About a week in, I saw something written on the blackboard in the back of the classroom, so I looked closer. It said, “Kitamoto, go home.” To say that I was disappointed was an understatement. Someone who I had thought was my friend had let me down, and it then made me question the Japanese people. Why would I want to be associated with a group of people who wouldn’t let me be a part of them?

So after that encounter, I was hesitant to label myself with any specific identity at all, so I simply said that I was Asian American. But still, I did not feel that it was right. So I did one of the hardest things to do as an adolescent, which is to forgive the person who wrote a derogatory message about me on the blackboard at my school in Japan. I realized that one person’s actions should not justify my opinion of the whole demographic. Overall, Japanese people were and are pretty neat, and I learned to proudly identify with them.

As for the American portion of my identity, I have never felt too detached from it, since I lived there for nearly my entire life. But that certainly doesn’t mean that I have my moments with it. When I moved to Japan for university, I always introduced myself as the girl from the Midwest in the United States. After constantly using this method of self-introduction, I wasn’t sure if it was true to my identity if I pushed my American side forward, and I also began to question if I should be proud to be from the United States. Now, I know that I cannot think that at all. The United States raised me and shaped me. Even though I don’t live there anymore, I can’t turn my back on the place that has given me so much.

I have mentioned the ups and downs that I have encountered in relation to my identity, and I am grateful for every single one of these experiences. There is not a thing that I would change about my life. Without these experiences, I would not have become the person that I am today. Now, I can proudly say that I am both Japanese and American, because both cultures and countries are both important to who I am as a person. It took me so long to realize that I don’t have to be a specific percentage of American or Japanese in me.

I am in no way trying to brag in this article. Since nationality and identity are becoming a more prevalent topic to think about because of an increase in people with multicultural backgrounds, I am trying to share my story so that people who are going through a similar identity crisis as me know that they are not alone.

This article was written by HC Waseda Guest Writer, Megumi Kitamoto.

 

Liberal Arts student obsessed with books, music, movies and all things creative. American, Japanese, and an honorary Canadian.