Am I Caught Between Two Worlds?
Rina Inaba (Stony Brook University)
One of the toughest challenges I have faced in my life was figuring out which culture I belong to.

Growing up in a predominantly white neighborhood, I experienced minimal cultural diversity. I was
ashamed to speak Japanese in front of my friends because I was afraid I would be looked at differently.

This made me feel like I had to choose one culture to identify myself with. Being born and raised in
America with my first language being English, my parents were concerned that I would lose touch with my
Japanese culture. As a first generation Japanese- American, my parents believed that it was important for
me to be able to speak and write Japanese; therefore, they enrolled me in Japanese Weekend School when I
was five years old. While my friends were hanging out or sleeping in, I was spending my Saturdays from
8:30 to 3:30 at Japanese School from kindergarten to my senior year of high school, a total of ten years,
learning math, history, science, and Japanese customs and traditions. I resented the idea of me having to
attend school on a weekend. Although I was given the opportunity to quit after the eighth grade, my
perseverance and unwillingness to quit enabled me to embrace the importance of Japanese customs and
traditions. Having the opportunity to attend both Japanese and American schools, it did not take a long time for
me to realize how different Japanese culture was compared to American culture. In American school, I was
used to having custodians, teachers being in charge of all the classwork and attendance, and the
professional yet somewhat casual relationship between teacher and student. My experience at the Japanese
Weekend School was very different in terms of the values that were promoted and the relationships formed
with my teachers. One of the most interesting differences I noticed were the dynamic interactions that
occurred during lunch. In American school, my parents would typically make a sandwich; in Japanese
school, lunch normally consisted of a formal bento. As opposed to American school where there are
custodians, we were in charge of cleaning up at the end of the day at Japanese school. In Japanese school,
we also had tōbans, where students were assigned to a specific duty each week. For example, as nichoku
tōban, I would be responsible for taking attendance, creating a to-do-list of the day, and summarizing what
occurred in class at the end of the school day. At first it was difficult to see the purpose of tōbans; I later
realized it gave me a sense of responsibility and unity with my fellow Japanese classmates.

One of the first things I noticed was how most teachers at Japanese school emphasized the strict
educational relationship rather than the more casual and approachable relationship with American teachers.

Coming from an American school that focused on class participation and interactions, I was always
encouraged to ask a questions and state my own opinion. However, in Japanese School I noticed this sense
of superiority and inferiority dynamic (referred to as senpai- kōhai), an essential element of Japanese
culture. I noticed the commonality for a lower classman to show respect to an upper classman by speaking
more formally and following the senpai’s orders while in turn the senpai serving as a mentor by protecting
and guiding the kōhai. These morals and traditions are aspects I would not have been able to understand
from simply reading a book or watching a movie; rather, they require first hand experiences to fully
immerse in Japanese culture.

Rather than viewing Japanese School as a Saturday wasted, I now see it as an opportunity that my
parents gave me to embrace my Japanese heritage as an American citizen. Being able to attend both
American and Japanese schools have helped me answer the question with which my essay is titled. I did not
have to choose which culture I belonged to, rather I have learned to exist outside both bounds, and at the
same time thrive in each.

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