- Mar 11, 2015
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These 2 words describe the manner in which post WW2 Japanese whereby they don't tell their children and grandchildren the whole truth about the racism they have faced.
The cost of striving for “model minority”
Learning silence as a second language
JT Nakagawa
I have several memories of people blaming me for being out of touch with my Japanese roots. One was a gym coach, the classic kind with a buzz-cut who wore sunglasses on our indoor basketball courts, carried a whistle around his neck and chewed gum as he told me, at 11 years old, that I didn’t “seem” Japanese. Another was a geeky college teaching assistant who, after unsolicitedly sharing his infatuation with anime, told me I should learn Japanese because “it’s actually quite a beautiful language.” Another was an online date, a casino card dealer who looked like a vampire and said my last name was interesting to him, but that he was disappointed I wasn’t “more Japanese.”
I think there are more memories, but like any good, model minority, I’ve repressed most of them so that I could continue to ogle white men without feeling affliction.
Now with increasing anti-Asian violence, my good ole American sadness and rage are bubbling up and winning over the motherland quiet. How’s that for patriotism?
“Love this country for its promise, not its practice.”
The cost of striving for “model minority” | by JT Nakagawa | Age of Awareness | Feb, 2021 | Medium
The cost of striving for “model minority”
Learning silence as a second language
JT Nakagawa
I have several memories of people blaming me for being out of touch with my Japanese roots. One was a gym coach, the classic kind with a buzz-cut who wore sunglasses on our indoor basketball courts, carried a whistle around his neck and chewed gum as he told me, at 11 years old, that I didn’t “seem” Japanese. Another was a geeky college teaching assistant who, after unsolicitedly sharing his infatuation with anime, told me I should learn Japanese because “it’s actually quite a beautiful language.” Another was an online date, a casino card dealer who looked like a vampire and said my last name was interesting to him, but that he was disappointed I wasn’t “more Japanese.”
I think there are more memories, but like any good, model minority, I’ve repressed most of them so that I could continue to ogle white men without feeling affliction.
Now with increasing anti-Asian violence, my good ole American sadness and rage are bubbling up and winning over the motherland quiet. How’s that for patriotism?
“Love this country for its promise, not its practice.”
The cost of striving for “model minority” | by JT Nakagawa | Age of Awareness | Feb, 2021 | Medium
