: Response :
A comment/question from a JA in the Pacific Northwest. Y’know, I love it when people chime in…
dorkus_maximus: What’s your insight about sansei Japanese-American’s or above? My friend (he’s not very credible sometimes =X) told me that they have an identity crisis because they’re confused of who they are. Usually, Nisei are the ones that know their culture very well and speak their language fluently because of their immigrant parents. What does that leave the sansei if their parents who were Nisei didn’t really impose any of their culture upon their children? Would that leave the 3rd generation or beyond really confused about who they are?
Personally, I think your friend is pretty insightful if s/he’s JA, or observant if s/he’s not. Actually, I’m a sansei, too, and I was and probably continue to have–to varying degrees, depending on my mood–an identity crisis. A lot I have written has touched on this already, but let me say that the identity “crisis” generally arises–and I speak for myself only–when I try to think of myself as Japanese; the reason being that I have learned over the years that I am not Japanese. I have done many things over the years that might qualify me to make this remark: I went to a elementary school attended by only JAs or J nationals (this, of course, is illegal now); I studied karate for six years; I worked with Japanese nationals in J-Town for more than a decade; I have lived in Japan sporadically for over 10 total years–longest stretch being 6.5 years;I speak Japanese fairly fluently; I read Japanese; I’ve been married twice, both to Japanese nationals; I teach Japanese language, literature and culture at a post-secondary school, with a Ph.D in this field.
Before you roll your eyes, let me assure you that I am not trying to boast. I’m just trying to let you know where I stand. The Nisei have nothing on me. I surpass most Nisei when it comes to things Japanese. And because of all this, I know for a very real fact that I am most emphatically NOT Japanese. If you read to the conclusion of my story of “Expectations”, you will find that I have come to a definite determination… But I’ll let you read it on your own. I’m getting close to wrapping it up, but its taking more time since I want to end it right…
Anyway, sansei and yonsei and gosei and the rest need to deal with the reality: We are not Japanese. We may have an affinity for Japan to varying degrees, but still we are not Japanese. Many of the Japanese “traditions” we learned from our parents and grandparents are relics from an older time, passe and anachronistic by modern Japanese standards of culture, society, and ethics.
This is Musubi-chan where Santa Monica Blvd. ends at the Pacific Ocean at Ocean Ave. She insinuated, “no more photos of ex-gfs” so I’ll put up her photo… 8/2002
sleetse: man how much younger is wife!, If she is younger than you by more than 10 yrs I’m gonna boycott your site.
Hah! Believe it or not, she is older than me… by 3 months. So there goes your boycott.
korikai: Musubi-chan is so hot! And didn’t you say before that she’s a grandma? Good Lord, I wanna look like her when I grow up! (or, now, even). Can you ask her what her workout routine is? (and if she says that she doesn’t work out, just….make something up, please).
I will pass the word to her, I’m sure she will be flattered… You should know that she is a fitness consultant–she tries to keep me fit but I often boycott–and a former aerobics instructor. She taught dancercize, jazz dance, and funk… Her funk was pretty funkalicious…
: Reconsideration : AM edition
I’ve been writing about my experiences during the 70s, mostly, something that I was doing even BEFORE the “I Love the 70’s” progam on VH1. And I’m afraid I might have lost some focus, as the following comment about installment 6 from pochi124 suggests:
Uh, not quite, Fido… er, I mean Pochi… If you had read all the entries from the beginning, the title might make more sense, but your comment has forced me to reconsider the direction of my story, for indeed I seem to be focusing on that most favorite subject of mine, ME… So I thought I’d take a pause and reconsider what I’m trying to convey.
The story began when Takunishi79 posted a comment about “screwing up” and the possibility of bouncing back. Not that I’m such a great example or anything, but I wanted to relate to him–and anyone else reading–my experience about being an almost-high-school drop-out who eventually turned it around in the right direction.
As an almost-high-school drop-out, I did not live up to the expections placed on me by my parents and JA society at large as a good little oriental boy (Glob). I failed to go to college right away and spent a good portion of my youth dancing, playing in a band, looking for girl friends, etc. much to the disappointment of many around me, even some of my friends. But for a while I was satisfied with what I later found to be a wretched, go-nowhere existence in J-town.
As the story continues, it inevitably runs through a portion of my life when I had, by my standards, an extraordinary streak of luck with women. Believe me when I say, in all honesty, that I have always considered myself to be an ugly duckling, and believe for the most part to have grown into an ugly goose. But during that time in my life, for reasons I still cannot fathom, I… well, in Japanese, for lack of a better word, moteta. And that is the portion that Pochi read recently…
Well, as I re-read the passage that gave Pochi the wrong impression, I think that perhaps I have dwelled too much on “gurlz”. And although to a degree this portion of my life did alter my world view, it has little to do with my actual turn-around. I really understood how much I was getting off the track when I read the continuation of 6 posted on the JAJournal. The way 6 ends is wrong; it does not reflect what I really want to say. It should end when I enter a Japanese singing contest in J-town and… well, I don’t want to get ahead of myself…
I just want to thank Pochi for forcing me to reconsider and confirm the direction I was going with this story. I truly appreciate your input… as accidental as it may have been… You never know from where words of wisdom will come, which is why I always encourage the comments of everyone who read what I say. Don’t just comment with a response to a comment I made on your Xanga page… You know who you are… But chances are you don’t read this far. Ha-hah!