Laura Kina “Gosei” oil on canvas, 30×45 in., 2012 on view in Under My Skin. Via Laura Kina’s blog.
As a fellow Japanese-Studies scholar, I feel I ought to comment on Maggie Thorpe’s “You don’t have to be mixed-race to have a mixed identity” in The Seattle Globalist. Although the article begins as a review of the Under My Skin exhibition at the Wing Luke Museum of the Asian Pacific American Experience in Seattle, Thorpe, a white grad student at University of Washington, uses the themes of the exhibition to discuss her personal identification with Japanese culture:
I became infatuated with Japanese culture when I was 8. Growing up in the southwest, I was like many white American youth, feeling “vanilla” and “boring” because I did not have a culture that was easily definable. So I found something else that appealed to me. These days, my co-worker announces frequently that I am the most Japanese at the Japanese restaurant I work at. The restaurant owned by a Japanese man, and staffed by mostly Japanese-American workers. When a Japanese pop song comes on the radio that I admit I don’t recognize, or there’s a reference to an anime I don’t know, I’m teased for not living up to my Japanese-obsessed reputation.
The article is problematic, to say the least, and Laura Kina, one of the artists Thorpe quoted, even clarified her stance in the comments:
While I appreciate the coverage of my art and the “Under My Skin exhibition” at the Wing Luke Museum, I would like to clarify a few of my quotes in this article by Maggie Thorpe as my quotes appear to be out of context and have come off as implying things I did not intend.
“People are increasingly ethnically ambiguous,” Kina explained. For example:
“People can choose what they are. Race is not the primary indicator of identity. For me, I have chosen to be a part of the Japanese-American community.”There were three threads of conversation here that have been collapsed into a statement that does not entirely make sense now. The missing parts had to do with notions of “post-race,” which I recall critiquing and also balancing with an explanation of the way racial ascription works – we can’t control how others perceive and treat us. Changing legal definitions of race also impact our individual and communal identities. Yes, it is true that I choose to be an active member of the Japanese American community in Chicago. That was a whole other conversation about cultural and ethnic identity and community activism, which is connected but different than race. I’m sure I talked to her about the difference between Okinawan identity and mainland Japanese identity and how geography, generational identity, class etc. impact even this ethnic identity. Since I remember I had this conversation while I was waiting for my daughter to get out of Hebrew school one Sunday, I am sure I also talked to her about being part of a Jewish community.
Maggie Thorpe asks a provocative question, “With this concept in mind, do you have to be mixed race to be mixed? Can a white person be considered mixed?” I think she is trying to talk about her own sense of having a hybrid identity but the edited quote from me to support the affirmative answer about mixed race is also out of context: “Whiteness is considered the default category,” Kina said. “However, what is whiteness is an equally strange thing. If a white person identifies with the Japanese-American culture, then we do not care about their motive. We want them to participate. It’s all about supporting the community.”
I remember Maggie asking me how I feel about “white people” attending Japanese American cultural events. The underlying implication seemed to be a question about how I feel about white people who are infatuated with Japanese culture. I did not answer that question directly but rather spoke about how many of our Japanese American cultural events are open to everyone to participate and enjoy and that includes Euro-Americans hence the “We want them to participate.” Being and consuming another culture is a different story. In regards to “whiteness is an equally strange thing”… I remember discussing how even this category is not fixed; not so long ago Italians, Irish, and Jews were not considered white. Min Zhou’s 2004 article “Are Asian Americans Becoming White?” is a great article to read in this regard. To talk about “whiteness” we have to talk about white privilege and anti-blackness and that’s not “vanilla and boring” but it can be very dangerous.
I would encourage you all to go visit the “Under My Skin: Artists Explore Race in the 21st Century” exhibition at the Wing Luke Museum of the Asian Pacific American Experience and make your own assessment of the show. Maggie said the show is “is part of a growing movement that says our racial identity is a personal choice, not a fact of birth.” Here is how the Wing Luke describes the show on their website:
In “Under My Skin,” 26 artists share their creative visions of race – the brutal realities of racism in the past and present, the ways race shapes the immigrant experience, and the hope that can be found in the complex realities of race in daily life. The exhibit invites visitors into a thoughtful conversation about race in the 21st century, and beyond. “Under My Skin” is on display at The Wing from May 10th through November 17, 2013.
To throw in my two yen from the perspective of a white woman with an MA in Japanese studies and time working abroad, I, like Maggie, initially got interested in Japan because of anime. At 15, I thought Japanese culture was fascinating–and I still do–but I have no pretensions that it is better or worse than American culture, or the Midwestern culture in which I grew up. At the risk of being overly vague, some things in Japan are done well; some are deeply flawed–and that’s true of
every culture.
I have never felt like like my “whiteness” makes me boring or “vanilla,” and to suggest that those of us who are white were looking for what Thorpe insinuates to be a rich, exotic culture to appropriate is insulting. I also like ancient Roman culture, but not because I am dissatisfied with my family background or upbringing, but because learning about culture in general is fascinating. On a more personal note, I embrace my German American Midwestern heritage, and I find Midwestern history is fascinating, by the way– but there are cultural reasons why I left that part of the country. It was not a good fit for me and I’m critical of my Midwestern roots, to be sure, but studying Japan and moving to Japan were not “solutions” to the Midwest or the US.
I’ve also been told–and so has every other linguistically and culturally fluent expat abroad– that I’m “more Japanese than a Japanese person,” and I understand the sentiment the speaker is trying to express even though the phrasing is awkward, but my response is that I have an MA in Japanese culture. I studied to be and am now a professional with a deep working knowledge of Japan’s language, history, and culture. Had I studied American Studies instead, I would not be “more American,” but I would have a deeper grasp of culture and history, presumably. At the same time, I recognize that there are many, many things I don’t know yet, and that’s why I keep studying and reading and learning and questioning even though I’ve graduated. Culture is not a monolith; culture and cultural narratives are diverse, ever-changing, and endlessly complex.
The current general dialogues about cultural appropriation, recognizing privilege, and actually discussing identity politics in both academia and on feminist media have been incredibly useful for teaching me to try harder to see outside myself and approach culture and gender from a diverse, inclusive, intersective standpoint, which is precisely the point of the exhibition. I feel at odds sometimes with my appreciation of Japanese art and aesthetics as a result, and I wish I could tell people, “No, I study this culture; this is not just to seem ‘exotic'”–but even that is problematic, the thought that I am “better” for studying it at the graduate level (as Thorpe apparently does as of 2013).
To change topics slightly, for those raised in Japan who are not ethnically Japanese to identify as Japanese, something I’ve pointed out in my writings on the word gaijin and the problem of exclusion, is different. I loathe “the g-word,” but my rejection of a racist label does not mean I consider myself Japanese. I will denounce “Japanese only” taiko groups as much as I will denounce the white-washing of American films. I would be interested to know more about non-natives applying for Japanese citizenship feel about how they fit into Japanese society, honestly, because the American melting pot/tossed salad narrative and the Japanese homogeneity narrative are so very different.
While I can only speak for the personal identity of myself, participating in multiple cultures, cultural identity, and cultural appropriation are far more complex issues than Thorpe articulates here, issues so complex that, despite the narrow focus of this post, I doubt my ability to discuss them adequately in this space. The beauty is that the exhibition DOES articulate the questioning and unease, the uncertain nature of “who am I?”, “where did I come from?”, and “who do I want to be?” I can’t tell you who you are, but Thorpe’s article goes to show the need for discussing cultural identity and identity politics with the complexity they deserve.
While I hate ending on “an old saying” and personal experience, there’s a joke among grad students that goes something like, “when you get a bachelor’s you think you know everything; when you get a master’s you realize you know nothing; and when you get your PhD you realize no one else knows anything either.” Humility is critical for success at the graduate level, and so is deep introspection about your background and place in your field in terms of how you interact with the work and your peers, especially in humanities and social sciences. Thorpe’s justification of her identity seems like middle-school identity play. Adolescent fantasies run in the realms of the mundane–usually “I wish I stood out from my peers by being cool and ‘exotic'” if you are an average member of the majority, or “I wish I fit in better with my peers so they wouldn’t tease me about my appearance or culture” if you are somehow physically different–as well as the fantastic: “I wish I were the reincarnated princess of the Moon Kingdom and fought galactic evil and had a hot boyfriend/girlfriend.” This does not read like the work of a budding academic. We all make mistakes, but when insensitive mistakes about your field are published on the Internet rather than just suggested in questions in class, it’s not just a healthy learning experience about checking your privilege and growing with your peers in school; this may actually negatively impact your academic credibility.
For more on commodification, cultural appropriation, and cultural imperialism, I encourage you to check out Sociological Images. Also, my friend Mia Monnier wrote a really stunning essay on her mixed racial identity on her blog which was also featured on Mixed Race Studies. Have more resources and suggestions? Leave me a comment!
Dear Leah,
The following comments were prompted by your: ‘I would be interested to know more about [how] non-natives applying for Japanese citizenship feel about how they fit into Japanese society’.
I haven’t applied for Japanese citizenship, but I have applied for and been granted permanent residence in Japan, after living in the country for twenty-odd years. (I lived in Japan for several more years after being granted permanent residence, and then left.)
I don’t think fitting into Japanese society was any easier with permanent residence than it was without permanent residence, not socially at least, though it did usually make dealing with bureaucrats easier. Socially speaking people stereotyped me as soon as they saw my Caucasian face, especially when I lived in rural Ibaraki Prefecture, north of Tokyo. People there assumed Caucasians were US citizens and that Caucasian US citizens had a certain amount of money, ate certain foods, acted in certain ways. (Japanese living in large cities like Tokyo had broader stereotypes.)
Once I’d learned enough Japanese to converse in the language, friends forgot my Americanness and their stereotypes.
Acquaintances saw me through their stereotypes, could never forget my Americanness, but didn’t let it bother them.
Strangers saw me only as a member of a category: foreigner or American or Caucasian.
In the beginning I wanted very much to fit into Japanese society and, so, being stereotyped bothered me. While I never learned to like being stereotyped, I did learn to let go of ‘it bothers me’ feelings. Perhaps because over the years I met Japanese who didn’t fit into Japanese society, and who couldn’t escape to foreignness when they transgressed culture and customs. They were trapped in ways I wasn’t. I could choose a culture and customs for the moment, speak and act American or Japanese. In any given situation, I had more choices than someone who could speak and act only American or Japanese and, so, more chances of survival.
And, there were other perks. Sometimes even strangers would tell me their life stories: wife and children problems; work worries. Even strangers would tell me because, once they realized I could speak Japanese and knew something of the culture and customs, and yet wasn’t Japanese, they relaxed. My Americanness apparently convinced them that I wouldn’t judge them as a Japanese might. So I listened and learned things not written in textbooks, learned a lot, because I had one foot in Japan and one in America.
After twenty-eight years in Japan I felt more comfortable there than in America, but I left the country over ten years ago. (But not to return to America. I live in Malta, half a world away from both countries.)
I left Japan because, when I applied for permanent residence, I was required to name a guarantor. Legally speaking, Japanese officials could’ve given me permanent residence the day after I arrived in Japan, but they made me wait twenty years, to prove that they could trust me to live in the country and, then, required me to name a guarantor, showing me that they didn’t trust me to live in the country. (Until I married, I had a one-year residence permit. After I married, I had a three-year residence permit. I was always required to have a guarantor.) I felt disgusted.
I left Japan because Japanese society is age graded. Generally speaking, it’s possible to become close friends only with people who are a few years younger or older than yourself. I don’t like that. I have close Maltese friends decades younger than me. Their enthusiasm helps keep me out of ruts and my ‘wisdom’, such as it is, helps keep them out of trouble. We watch out for each other. We share.
But, if asked: ‘Would you do it all again?’, I’d say: ‘Yes’. I worked in Japan, married and divorced in Japan, raised my son as a single parent in Japan. I met people there I’d never have met and did things there I’d never have done if I hadn’t gone. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
Sincerely,
James Wiegert
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Hi, James,
Thank you for the reply! I think I would feel the same: having Japanese permanent residency or even citzenship would really help on legal matters (no visas necessary, etc.), but even if I were a citizen, I feel like the conflation of race with nationality in Japan (and about Japan) would not change people’s reception towards me: “You’re not Japanese,” whereas in the US, citizenship is somewhat tied more closely to nationality. I get the sense that the reception toward Donald Keene’s citizenship was positive but I doubt anyone would describe him as “Japanese.” Your comments about being able to move around differently in society socially while also not being able to move around as easily legally were really interesting, too. Thank you so much for sharing your experiences and for commenting!
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I think you have a very eloquent reply to the “more Japanese than Japanese people” comment. I also get it a lot, but I usually can only shrug (such an American gesture!) and say I have an interest in it. I’m only more Japanese compared to many people of Japanese ethnicity and citizenship who do not have an interest in kimono and the like. Like Americans, Japanese people do not all fit in one box even if they were exposed to the same cultural background and share some basic common traits.
I got sucked into Japanese culture when I was in middle school and watching anime, but after studying it formally and informally for the past 13 years I have a deep love for it, but it hardly feels exotic. While in some ways I feel more at home in Japan because I surround myself with people with similar interests, I’m not aiming to become a Japanese citizen–I don’t feel like fighting the bureaurocratic system to attain a title I don’t foresee myself needing.
Though I am content being an American (because technically and culturally I am), I have a problem with American stereotypes and whitewashed ways of life in America–however people want to argue what that is. I feel a sense of being in the wrong place when the people around me have no appreciation of Japanese or wider Asian culture, in which case my fellow Americans label my interest as “exotic”. In that sense, no, I do not need to be mixed-race to be mixed-culture.
As for the academic approach, I still study and follow research and essays on Japanese culture, but I’m happy not to be making my own contributions at this time. My experience of Japan and growth here are worth sharing, but from a personal angle, not an objective and well-cited angle. The things I’m learning about and the understanding I’m deepening will certainly be useful if I someday choose to go back into academia, but for now the things I write about will hopefully be accessible and understandable for peope who lack my studious background. Ms. Thorpe’s article may not have been appropriate in this context, and indeed, cherry-picking someone else’s words is highly problematic, but perhaps this is the kind of reflection to tease though a thought process is highly useful in not-published settings, or a blog of appropriate nature.
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Great response as always! I also get sad when others don’t seem excited by other cultures, but lately I’ve been “sheltered” by working for or with international organizations where everyone is passionate about their target culture. It does seem strange to encounter the less curious people now…
I particularly like your angle on the personal Japan blog, and keeping a personal “I’m abroad” blog is a good way to process the experience and help others. So many of them seem to be “OMG GARBAGE SORTING IS HARD,” so I’m glad I can read about your wagashi and exploration adventures.
Like you wrote, I think her post would have better suited for her personal blog rather than a publication. I struggle with my “bicultural” situation and how to vocalize it respectfully, so leave it off my blog, which has a different focus, but I do wonder how doing Japanese traditions for New Year’s might look sometimes….
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Aww, thank you! I’m doing my best with it and trying to keep it informative and entertaining in addition to being a personal narrative.
Haha! Which New Years traditions do you incorporate? I’m sure it’s strange enough in Japan or America when I celebrate Tsukimi by reading Chinese poetry. Having two target cultures will do that to you, but at least people who have “target cultures” will humor me!
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Oh, nested replies, why do you fail?
I like to make ozoni, toast mochi, go to the shrine (maybe not in the US), and decorate with kadomatsu. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to go to some kind of event this winter. ^^
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Thanks for sharing this, I am very interested in identity and how it is connected to culture. I can’t say I’ve ever been told I’m more Japanese than the Japanese, I’m certainly terrible at the language and knew little about the culture before coming here. I’m not convinced I have a single actual friend here to this day. But I have an American friend who’s been married to a Japanese woman for a few years now, and he says he has only recently been allowed to meet most of her family. Then, I have another friend, Canadian guy, who’s also married to a Japanese woman, and he says that the process of integration was pretty fluid for him. Sometimes I think chalking it all up to “Japanese people” this and “Japanese culture” that is doing a huge disservice to everyone involved. People are different everywhere. Some will welcome you with open arms, others will take years to build up trust.
Your blog is one of my “5 blogs I would take with me to a deserted island,” by the way, thought you might like to know. 😉
http://breakingmoulds.com/2013/07/10/deserted-island-blogs/
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Yeah, there’s something to be said for general cultural norms, but I agree that it’s also individual differences, as well as generational and regional differences, too. Also, thank you for featuring my blog in your post and for the compliments–glad you enjoy the blogs!
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[…] of writing about culture and humility, check out Toranosuke's excellent piece on the moment when you realize you how much you don't know […]
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I wish I did go to Seattle to see that exhibit…I was just 50 km. away before we returned to Canada.
“The missing parts had to do with notions of “post-race,” which I recall critiquing and also balancing with an explanation of the way racial ascription works – we can’t control how others perceive and treat us. ”
The artist is right and it is also true once, one pronounces themselves publicly as even mixed Japanese-Caucasian: people may have certain responses, perceptions.
By the way, I thought you were male. 🙂 How’s that for bending perceptions?
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Haha, I get that sometimes! No worries.
I got to see the exhibit over the weekend, and Kina’s response and her art was excellent. The whole museum is really interesting. If you come to Seattle again, I recommend it!
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[…] touched on this in my post about cultural appropriation and Japan studies, but one of the reasons I got irritated in Japan with the constant “where are you […]
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I’m 1/4 Japanese and 3/4 white. I was first exposed to Japanese culture when I was around 3 or 4 (I guess I was as a baby as well, but I don’t remember) through food with my half Japanese mother. I remember being five or so and her pointing to Japan on the world map saying that this is the country her mother (my grandmother) is from and that we have heritage and ancestry from there. That we were part Japanese was always something that was noticed and talked about, but that we were racially part Asian was never brought up much.
In middle school, my sense of cultural identity took a turn for the worse when I started hanging out with kids (honestly, mostly non-Asian PoC) that introduced me to anime and other Japanese media which I naturally got into and they either treated me like I was a weeaboo or an innocent and kawaii Asian, so things were very conflicting for me.
I took Japanese up to level 3 in high school and gained an elementary understanding of the language (people both Japanese and not Japanese would attribute my heritage to my skill in the language) and I still dabble with it in college occasionally and I’m in an Asian language and culture club that is full of mostly non-Asian PoC. (Hispanic the main demographic where I live) and a lot of people will assume my racial mixture isn’t enough to count or that I’m just fully white and say stuff like, ‘It’s really cool that you’re into cultures that aren’t like your own.” or at worst, they will automatically assume I watch anime and listen to K-pop all day which is extremely annoying.
I think there should definitely be a distinction between identifying with being mixed and actually being mixed. A lot of people these days get into Japanese culture because they think the media is fun and cool, but I got into it cause I thought it was a part of me. I think if you’re white, Black, or Hispanic it’s more appropriate to say, “I’m into Japanese culture.” rather than, “I identify with Japanese culture, or being Japanese.” (I mean, unless you grew up in or have been living in a Japanese community) even if one is Vietnamese, it still seems weird to identify with Japanese culture cause even though they’re both Asian, they’re definitely not the same. And yes, I am aware that this is for somewhat selfish (but I still think valid) reasons. I will not be lumped in with people that have a fascination with the culture while I have a genuine familial and blood connection with it. Being treated like an Asian stereotype at times sucks, but people assuming I’m a white girl that got into Japanese culture because of anime is probably even worse.
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Thank you for the comment! You reminded me of piece Mia Nakagi Monnier (who is also linked above) wrote a couple years later: https://www.bostonglobe.com/opinion/2015/07/10/mfa-kimono-controversy-should-spark-deeper-conversation/lZeb3uxDpGBeP2t6Q7IzuL/story.html
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Can’t edit my comment, so I wanted to high-light two important points and one is that it’s not just white people that get into Japanese culture, become ‘Japanophiles’ or ‘weeaboos’ and the second that being respectfully into the culture even if it did stem from a love of anime or something is still a good thing, but not the same as someone that actually has Japanese heritage.
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Agreed! I wrote this 4 years ago, and I’m glad I’ve gotten to spend those years learning more about appropriation and race. I certainly don’t mean to imply that only white people like or learn about or, worse, appropriate Japanese culture; in this case, Thorpe is white (and so am I) so I approached it from that perspective. Really appreciate your comments, and thanks for reading.
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