Honestly, I had never really thought of the implication of being a person of colour until I came to Japan. During my first few weeks in Nagasaki, I was asked, “Paige, what exactly are you?” This very direct question led to the first of many interesting conversations I’ve had in Japan about my race and ethnicity, and what being a person of colour means to me.
My name is Paige Frankson, and I’m a second year prefectural ALT in Nagasaki City. I’m from South Africa, which, post-Apartheid is known as a rainbow nation. Ethnically, I’m a bit of a mixed bag. I come from a very colourful family, and we’ve been known to joke that we represent varying shades of chocolate.
For classification purposes, I’m what South African’s would call ‘Coloured’. I’m aware that this term is contentious in just about every country in which it is used, and this is also the case in SA. The term was initially used in my country during the apartheid era, and referred to people of mixed race. This means that no matter your ethnic history, if you were ‘mixed’ in any way, you would be classified as coloured and made to live in specifically designated ‘coloured areas’. The intermingling of people from so many different races and ethnicities has led to a completely different culture, and thus ‘coloured’ now refers to a cultural identity rather than a racial one, as we have our own unique culture, language and way of being, which is neither black, white, nor Indian, though it is greatly influenced by each of these. Trying to explain this, not only to Japanese people but also other foreign people, has been both difficult and interesting, and has, in many ways, forced me to confront my own cultural heritage in new and exciting ways. It’s something my fellow South African’s struggle with as well, as I’ve had some South Africans tell me that they’ve been called racist for referring to me or other coloured people as ‘coloured’. I happily, and eagerly accept being called a black woman, but I’m coloured, and proud of it. With the current Miss Universe being a coloured South African woman, I feel that now is a great time to discuss what this identity means to me and many South Africans, and I’m glad that I get to share my experience as a coloured woman in Japan.
On the whole, I’ve been having a wonderful time in Japan. I’ve had so much fun telling other people about my culture and my country, both the good and the bad, and have found that they have listened attentively. I’ve had the opportunity to talk to my students about everything from the horrors of apartheid to SA’s rich cuisine and the unique clicking sounds found in languages like Xhosa and isiZulu. I’m fortunate in that I teach at a high school where the students are very inquisitive, and are always asking questions like, “What is it like to be a black woman in your country?” and “What can we do to make Nagasaki more foreigner-friendly?”, which I think is wonderful. I’ve enjoyed cultural exchanges with many people, both Japanese and from other foreign countries, and I’ve definitely learned a lot from these exchanges.
That being said, there are a few things that I have found to be a bit trying. As many foreigners in Japan will tell you, you will stand out in Japan, and you should be prepared for that, and being dark-skinned, at times, can make you feel extremely visible, especially if you live in the countryside (or so I’ve heard). It’s incredibly likely that, even when walking to your local combini for the hundredth time or riding the same bus you’ve been riding for over a year, you may attract some double takes. I’ve found that, while this experience can feel frustrating at times, it mostly comes from a place of surprise and curiosity. It’s something you come to understand and grow accustomed to, even if it does sometimes make you feel annoyed or uneasy.
Admittedly, I’ve also had many a ridiculous statement thrown my way, from both children and adults, especially when people find out that I come from Africa. I’ve had questions like “Do you get attacked by lions?”, “Do you practice witchcraft?”, “Why is your hair so fluffy?”, “Wow, your English is so good!”. Fortunately, instances such as these are the exception rather than the rule, and, rather than hexing people out of frustration, it’s better to try to use these instances as an opportunity to educate people about your culture. It’s important to remember that, although a few people might actively be hurtful idiots, many people genuinely may not know anything about your country or culture, so these questions, which may at times seem ignorant and offensive, come from a place of curiosity, and the desire for understanding. It’s tiring and annoying and requires some patience to have to answer questions that seem trivial or ridiculous to you, but it’s worth taking the time to tell people about these things, so that they walk away having learned something new. It’s also worthwhile to tell people what terms, statements and actions may be offensive to you. Although it is tempting to karate-chop every hand that wanders toward my hair, I’ve found that maybe it’s better to say, “That’s not okay, please ask for my permission”.
My advice to people of colour coming to Japan is, firstly, be open-minded. You will find yourself in frustrating situations, but try to understand that Japanese culture may well be quite different than your own. As we are trying to teach people about our cultures, we need to learn about and respect Japanese culture as well. On the other hand, you should never be made to feel inferior because of your race, either at your schools or in society, so you must speak up if ever you feel demeaned or diminished. You wear your difference on your skin, so take pride in it. Be a proud representative of your heritage and your culture, and embrace the fact that your skin colour, culture, personality and experience is different, so celebrate it.
by Paige Frankson, 2nd year ALT in Nagasaki city
