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MOM
SAYS, DAD SAYS, NAT SAYS: OTHER
PRESS
RELEASE
For Immediate Release
Click
Here for PDF version of Hapa, Amerasian, Euro-Asian, Nisei or Other
Contact: Nathalie Ishizuka
Fax: 914-967-5275
Email: contact@internationalbehavior.com
Hapa, Amerasian, Euro-Asian, Nisei
or "Other": Growing up Bi-culturally
From day one, I was labeled, "other."
Singing my ABC's, looking Japanese and asking for a "bonbon,"
it was hard not to notice me. My French mother and Japanese father
told me that it was my terrible singing voice that drew attention,
so being an "other" never went to my head. What did go
directly to my head and heart, was the feeling that I was indeed
different -- as Katherine Knorr of the International Herald Tribune
put it so well, "someone at home in two places and a stranger
in both as well."
After hearing from other Hapa, Amerasians, Euro-Asians, Nisei and
countless 'others' about the unkindness of strangers, I have often
thought about what it means to be an "other" to never
entirely fit into one category -- nor to entirely want to. After
all wherever I went, I would continue to introduce myself as a Franco-Japanese
American from New York. And we all know that these days in the States,
most of us would prefer to leave out the "French." Yet,
somehow, not fitting into any one category made me feel important.
Of course, a lot of people don't always fit in. They may look different,
or they may just feel different. And many times that is a good thing.
According to some studies on bi-racial children there are some benefits
to being an "other." Studies will informatively tell you,
that growing up bi-racially or for that matter bi-culturally can
lead you to be "assertive, emotionally secure, independent
and creative with a positive self-concept," and those who know
me might even confirm this happy outcome.
Yes-- growing up tri-culturally pushed me to think outside the box
(there were at least three sides to each issue making a casual perusal
of the newspaper impossible), to resist peer pressure (don't care
for drugs or following the crowd), to find your own path in life
(you never fit into one category so you are quick to invent your
own), and to do something that no one else wants to do nor can become
(still not sure whether I am doing the former or the latter). Yet,
I noticed that this was only because I naturally did things to protect
myself when others seemed to sink. Things that could make it more
fun to be a Hapa, Amerasian, Euro-Asian, Nisei, or 'Other' when
it is difficult to be a 'stranger' at home or abroad.
One of these things included my natural defenses of laughing at
myself, and laughing with others, so that the little things that
bothered me became ok. Not because they were trivial, but because
with love and forgiveness I found things were easier. The first
time I became aware of the power of laughter was in kindergarten.
I remember when a kid much bigger than I came and sang out, "Chinese,
Japanese, dirty knees, ¨ and pulled his eyes out to make them flat
like mine. My first reaction was to think that he was silly. His
eyes could never be like mine. And so I sang out his same words,
pulled my eyes even flatter in an attempt to match his gestures
and made fun of HIM. Other kids watched not sure what to make of
me. I couldn't stop laughing. Soon, we were all laughing. From that
day on, no one ever sang that song again. I didn't have that sore
spot, so no one, not even a bully, got much satisfaction pressing
it.
Yet even a happy go lucky type or the most positive "others'
amongst us, have at some point felt like the odd ball out -- like
we didn't completely fit in, nor want to. A feeling of not being
completely understood nor accepted for who we were or who we wanted
to become. Simply put, life isn't always perfect. Let me assure
you this was certainly true for me. There were some things that
definitely bothered me. Oh, it was not that I ate like the French
(although I can assure those still boycotting French wine or restaurants
are missing out needlessly), looked Japanese or dreamed big like
an American. It was that I was small in size. Yes, being small made
me feel like an "other." I know this sounds petty, but
I remember every person in my life that called me small. Yes, every
one of you. Of course my mother says that it is cute to be small.
My father says that Napoleon was small. But none of that helped.
Yet, there were things that my French mother's 'savoir vivre' and
my wise Japanese father did that certainly helped me be happy as
an 'other.' Things that my friends wished their Mom had told them,
what most Dads may not have known (my father was a renown Japanese
Harvard trained psychiatrist on happiness), and what my own happy
go lucky attitude made easy. These things helped me on my first
trip to Japan at the age of eleven when kids threw stones at us
and cried, "Yankee-go home,¨ or when I was the first Japanese-American
at the age of sixteen to attend Seishin Gakkuin - one of the most
traditional all Japanese high schools where there was little room
for creative differences.
Of course, lest I gloss over the difficulties involved in growing
up as a Happa, Ameriasian, Euro-Asian, Nisei or 'Other,' it is true
that in addition to all the normal identity crisis that kids and
adults go through there is the additional challenge of physical
appearance (I had spent hours pinching my nose to make it less flat
with little success), language (looking Japanese did not mean I
spoke it fluently), a strange sounding name, identity (who do you
root for during the world soccer cup), and how one deals with racism
from all ethnic groups including your own -- if you are lucky enough
that such a category exists.
Indeed, when I was eight I remember the day when a little blond
American girl asked me why my last name was Ishizuka. Honestly,
I had no idea. So instead, I asked her, why her last name was Jones.
She too was clueless. And so we became friends. I concluded, that
if someone asks you a question that merits no reply, don't get angry,
get curious. Today I find that still works and only wished that
more French and Americans who have found offense across the Atlantic,
more Japanese-Americans who have suffered from feeling different,
and more 'Arabs' and Americans (should either category be easy to
define) enjoyed a similar technique. For as a proud Franco-Japanese
American that now lives in a city where one quarter of the population
under 20 are of Muslim origin, I can assure you that we all have
more that unites us than divides.
Nathalie
Ishizuka is a Franco-Japanese American author and illustrator
of Mom Says, Dad Says, Nat Says: Other who has spent over 15 years
writing about a model of health and happiness. Her innovative interdisciplinary
approach integrating the psychology of individuals, organizations,
and the nation state has lead her to work with people from many
fields and to receive the George A. Plimpton Fellowship for the
study of social, economic, and political institutions.
-30-
Mom Says, Dad Says, Nat Says: Other, illustrated
and written by Nathalie Ishizuka, 60 color pages soft cover, ISBN
1-59113-741-1. $24.95 published by Booklocker 2005, visit www.natsays.com
Click
Here to Buy 'Mom Says, Dad Says, Nat Says : Other'
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