“You’re moving to Japan, huh? You know that you’re going to always be considered an outsider, right?” This is what I would often hear from my well-meaning white friends and acquaintances both here and back in Canada.
“Yeah, I’ve heard,” I would reply with a polite smile. “I think I’ll be okay.”
“But it’s very different there. You really won’t be one of them. Everyone who’s not Japanese is an outsider.”
This was a very common comment that continues to strike and confuse me when I hear it. I was raised in a small Inuit village in northern Canada and have mixed Central African and French-Canadian roots. If I’ve had a nickel for every time I’ve heard ‘you look so exotic’ or ‘so you must be good at dancing’ or other comments, I’d probably be able to pay off my credit card debt by now. Being an ‘outsider’ is not a novel experience for me.
That isn’t to say that I’m somehow immune to xenophobic comments or that people are not justified in their experience of otherness in Japan. It’s just that when you’ve experienced a lifetime of not being part of a dominant culture, there are certain things that don’t shock you as hard as they maybe should.
Regardless, I was told that being a different ethnicity in Japan was still different than back home, so I tried to prepare myself as best as I could for the experience of being a gaikokujin.
I ended up in Sasebo, Nagasaki. It’s the second largest city in the prefecture, home to a Dutch-theme park, an American naval base, universities, and a shipyard. Needless to say, you get a various mix of non-Japanese people. I feel that I’m different here, but not particularly a novelty, unless I travel further into the countryside.
When I get a question about my background, usually it’s nothing special.
The conversation looks something like this:
“Where are you from?” they ask.
“Oh, I’m from Canada,” I reply. I expect a follow-up question.
“Vancouver?”
“Near Montreal.”
“Oh! They had the Olympics there many years ago.”
“Yeah. It’s a nice city, but kind of cold.”
“Very interesting,” and the subject changes, or they say goodbye.
The question I was expecting was “But where are you really from?” It’s a question you get when you look ethnically ambiguous and it is one that is asked usually minutes within meeting someone new in Canada.
Usually, the question is not ill-intentioned, but it gets tiring having to fully explain your ancestral history to a stranger on a bus after a long day. It’s a microaggression that makes you realize that you can be born somewhere, but you’ll always be viewed as other.
Oddly enough, I have never been asked that question here, which is the question I expected the most, as that is what I assumed people meant when they said outsider. I know that I don’t fit the image of what most people think of when they think of Canada, so I was surprised that I wasn’t questioned on the validity of my background.
Don’t get me wrong; I certainly get intrusive questions and they’re often not enjoyable.
- You’re 30, why aren’t you married yet?
- Mallavi-sensei, what’s your cup size?
- Why do you never talk about your father?
- So, what’s your opinion on the Catalan separatist movement in Barcelona?
Since living in Japan, I don’t think anyone has posed the ‘but where are you really from’ question, though I’m sure that people have wondered. With the rise of Naomi Osaka, I have noticed that is slightly of more interest in whether or not I’m half-Japanese, but other than that, it is refreshing not to have people wait for you to tell them why you’re not white just minutes after meeting them.
With most people, I’ve been able to talk about my cultural and ethnic identity at a pace that I felt comfortable with. While there have certainly been misconceptions, I’ve been able to clear them up quickly. I’ve felt that I’m being listened to, rather than interrogated.
There is a flipside to that, however. Having a multi-layered background sometimes makes people think that you are an expert on all cultures, and therefore should be able to authentically explain every cultural and political view perfectly and without bias. I’ve visited a few different countries since living here, and I’m often asked to do a full historical and cultural lesson on them. Trying to explain the history of the ethnic and cultural makeup of Malaysia can be quite intimidating when all you did was visit museums and eat a lot of mango.
That being said, I feel I’ve been able to share my experiences as a Canadian and a minority in a way that has been authentic to me. I have been able to go beyond the ‘Niagara Falls’ and ‘Vancouver’ idea that most Japanese people imagine. I can take the time to explain what it was like growing up in an Inuit village. I can talk about being mixed-race. I can talk about my English, French, and African roots without being talked down to or have my authenticity questioned.
I also got a chance to change my preconceived notions about Japan. I was always told that Japanese people didn’t talk about current affairs, or that they were apathetic about politics. I was proven wrong. Colleagues have expressed their thoughts to me about rising for the Japanese flag, or whether or not the position of emperor should be abolished. I’ve had some students write about what they thought of Prime Minister Abe, and how they feel about Japan having an active military. It often comes out of the blue, but it’s always welcomed and appreciated. After all, I’m sharing my opinions about my home country, so I should also listen to those around me.
Am I an outsider in Japan? Yes. I know that I’m different, and people will certainly ask me about it. But people are also interested in including me in their communities. They want to know not only just where I come from, but about my personal interests, likes and dislikes, and beliefs. In some ways, I do feel that I can be my more authentic self here, which is something I wasn’t expecting, but it has really helped me adjust to living here.
My advice to new ALTs:
You will be different, and that’s okay. If this is your first time surrounded by a culture that is different from yours, then there will be excitement, challenges, laughs, and frustrations. Some days you’ll wish that you could just be invisible, or that people weren’t in your business all the time. Other days are going to be great, and you’ll be excited to share your culture with Japanese people and ALTs alike.
Try to be flexible and open, but also be okay with creating boundaries. Talk, but also listen.
by Yeti Mallavi, 4th year ALT in Sasebo
