What does it mean to be American?

‘Being in the same boat’ situation rarely happens to returnees. But I am hoping that the stories I share will be something to you, and that is why I have decided to write this note.

There are always so many sides to a story. What I will be writing about today, is just my side of the story. There will be facts and opinions from what was seen through my eyes, and my eyes only, and it will be up to you to decide if you’re going to take my story as something valuable or not.

「帰国子女だからこう」とかっていう、皆が皆経験することなんてものはきっとなくて。なので今日お話しすることはあくまでも私個人の体験談です。でもここでお話しすることが、何かの考えるきっかけになればいいな、と思って書いてみます。

My vague memory starts from where I was in California. There were a couple of Asian families at my school, including Japanese ones like mine. I remember Halloween parties, after school clubs (where I had the petite honor of teaching others how to fold a paper crane out of origami paper), and the time when a wild skunk ventured through the school water pipe, forcing the whole school to evacuate. It was very peaceful, and we all somehow got along, apart from all the drama and prejudice. I honestly thought life was going to carry on like this forever.

カリフォルニアに居た頃は、周りは割と平和に思えました。よく「アメリカはサラダボウルだ」と言いますが、これは本当にそうで、色々なバックグラウンドを持った人が、差別も争いもなく日々穏やかに生活している、というイメージでした。死ぬまでここに住むなら、最期まで争いを知ることなく、ただただ平穏に生きていくんだと、ぼんやりとそう思っていました。

Experiencing a great (or, so I thought back then) move from the West coast all the way to the East coast, I suddenly became shy, leaving the ‘always happy Kino’ behind in the landscape of rural California. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I moved to the town where Barbara Bush (the former First Lady) was born and raised, and by only this I am sure you can tell what kind of place this area was all about. I remember the first party I was ever invited to in the small town of Rye, New York, was a pool party hosted by one of the richest kids in the area. I must say it wasn’t a marvelous experience; after all, not only was I shy, but I could also hardly swim. So much for making friends, right?