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Cherry Blossom Days
"Entering into American society, where it’s okay to question everything, made me feel uncomfortable at first."
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By Jazmine Livingston
I feel as if half of my heart is in Japan and the other right here in the Bay Area.
Shortly after my third birthday, I moved to Japan with my family. When we moved back to the States sometime before I turned 10, I found it hard to shift back into American culture.
Suddenly, instead of gyoza, I was told to eat french fries. And instead of kimonos on special occasions, I had to wear dresses with shoes that made clicking noises. “Thank you so much” replaced “arigato gozaimas te”. It got to a point where I forgot almost every word of Japanese I knew.
When we moved to back the United States, we came to California. One of the biggest differences was how people dealt with race. You see, in Japan, I never saw, or heard, messages that told me “my place.” On my first day of American school, this black girl walked up to me, and asked what race I was, comparing me to herself. Of course I had this confused expression on my face, since I’ve never been asked that before. She looked at me like I was dumb, and told me I couldn’t be all black because I didn’t have a butt, and I had curly hair. And I couldn’t be half black and half white because I had “Asian eyes”. It was that day I started to look at myself as being different, and wondering why just 3 weeks ago, none of this mattered.
At my high school now, my classmates groan in agony whenever the teacher tells us to read a chapter and take notes. In Japan, I was taught that education is something that brings honor. Over there, it’s rare to see note passing and side conversations unless it’s about the subject material.
Honor is the backbone of Japanese culture. I mean, the policemen don’t even carry guns. It’s dishonorable to talk back to a cop. Children don’t talk back to their parents and do their chores without being told. There isn’t any litter on the streets. And women don’t question their husbands. Entering into American society, where it’s okay to question everything, made me feel uncomfortable at first. It seemed wherever I looked, people were breaking the rules. I felt as if I was watching a dirty film, and someone was going to bust in and catch me in the act.
There’s so much I miss about Japan. I miss the crowded subways, the narrow streets, and how everyone takes off their shoes inside the house. And I still eat funny with forks.
There are places here in the States that offer a taste of my life back home, in Japan. The most popular and obvious place is Japan town in San Francisco.
I can indulge in American culture, and take the occasional breaks at my favorite Japanese hang out spots here in the States.
But it’s not the same because they only represent parts of Japan, when I feel like I want it all sometimes. I’ve always thought about going back there to live someday. The only thing that scares me is that I would be alone. Completely. No family…no friends. The fact that I would have to start all over from scratch is almost overwhelming. I’m not sure whether I’m ready to give up everything I’ve worked so many years to build in the U.S. And start fresh in the country that holds most of my childhood memories.
-This story was produced by Youth Radio's International Desk in association with National Geographic.
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