Showing posts with label hapa. Show all posts.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Joe is Japanese

I just read about this at Racialicious. It's an upcoming web animation called "Joe is Japanese", based on life stories from a hapa in Japan.



I've sometimes wondered what my life would be like had I stayed in Japan instead of going to America after kindergarten. I also have a very un-Japanese name! I don't think my life would have been impossible, but it would have been very, very hard.

Here's what Joe says:

The show is based on (mostly) true events from my life. It wasn’t easy growing up a half-breed. No one culture will ever be yours to embrace. No matter how hard I tried, I could never really be Japanese, and as I got older I realized that I might have overcompensated and became too Japanese. You’d have to be Japanese to understand what I mean by that one... :-P

... I get to tell random stories like that. Stories that made up my life… they made me into what I am today, (mostly) Japanese.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Spot the Hapa

We found this photo while digging around in some old family albums. It's my Japanese kindergarten class. The photo is very unflattering... my cheeks look weird! Actually, it's unflattering to everyone. We all look like someone just took our lollipops away.

I remember kindergarten as being a mostly fun, happy, playful time. I loved my teacher (the woman in the purple sweater).

After kindergarten, we moved away from Japan.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Barack Obama: Dickerson Vs. Kamiya

I like how Barack Obama's candidacy has brought a lot of multiracial issues up into the public consciousness. But it's frustrating to read how the unending "but is he really black" pieces keep rehashing the same points.

On Salon.com recently was a piece by Debra Dickerson, called "Colorblind", that basically says "Obama isn't really 'black'". Dickerson herself is African-American/black. I don't think she presents her main point as clearly as she could. That's because she relies too much on the word "black" for two meanings, racially black and ethnically African-American (as in, tracing descendence from slaves brought over from West Africa with a residence of at least 150 years in America). Saying "he's black but he's not really black" just muddies the waters. Aside from that terminology failure, I think she makes some good points.

We know a great deal about black people. We know next to nothing about immigrants of African descent (woe be unto blacks when the latter groups find their voice and start saying all kinds of things we don't want said). That rank-and-file black voters might not bother to make this distinction as long as Obama acts black and does us proud makes them no less complicit in this shell game we're playing because everybody wins.


Whether Obama is really, ethnically, African-American black is up for debate. It's a debate that has to take place between people like Debra Dickerson, communities of African or Caribbean immigrants, and people in the middle like Obama. As I mentioned in a previous post blasting white people who called Obama a "Halfrican", it's really not something that should be decided by people outside those three groups. It's just not their business. Or my business. Just as I wouldn't accept a black person telling me I'm not "Asian enough" because I don't speak Japanese, it's not up to me to say "I think Obama (is/is not) (black/African-American) and any (black/African-American) who disagrees with my judgment is wrong." Like I said in the previous post, I happen to think his own argument for choosing to call himself an African-American is convincing, that's all.

In a follow-up article entitled Black vs. "black", Gary Kamiya responds with a weird plea for colorblindness. I like a lot of his other political writing, but this piece is just incoherent mush.

I think the ultimate goal of a colorblind society is great. Having a society without race and racial privilege, where different ethnic groups all exist and interact equally, is a fantastic goal. The question is how to get to that society. As a totally necessary step, "whiteness" has to go. Once we get rid of "white", other races can follow. There would be no white people anymore, just different flavors of European-Americans. I try to live by that principle in saying that I'm not proud of my white ancestors; I'm proud of my English- and German-descended ancestors. To get whiteness to go, we first have to 1) admit that it exists 2) admit that it's ingrained as the standard from which other races deviate. In other words, "white" is "normal" and "American", everything else is "abnormal" or "special" or "foreign".

When people pretend whiteness or race doesn’t exist, it's just maddening. Literally maddening, as in quasi-schizophrenic. Here's my attempt to illustrate how it feels.

Social message: You're not white. You're different. You're not white. You're different. You're not white. You're different. You're not white. You're different. You're not white. You're different. (wash, rinse, repeat message for several decades)
Me: Hey... umm... excuse me... I think I'm different, and I'm not white.
Response: Why are you bringing up race? You're making me uncomfortable! Why can't you pretend you're the same as everyone else?

Getting back to Kamiya's article, he advocates for a society that ignores race, which is great. He says that he grew up in the Bay Area. I know this is a very diverse place. The more diverse a place is, as long as it's not extremely segregated, the less racial difference tends to matter. If everyone is already "different", then difference just isn't as important. I like that feeling, which is why I now live in a fairly diverse urban area. But the main point of his article is very disturbing.

I started a part-time teaching gig last week at the University of California at Berkeley, and part of the paperwork (which included a form on which you had to pledge allegiance to the state of California, an entity I had not thought needed my vassalage) was a form that asked what my ethnicity was. You had to identify yourself as white, black, Asian or Latino. I think there were a few others, though I can't remember. I'm half-Japanese, so I looked for a mixed-race box, but there wasn't one. I asked the woman who was doing the paperwork if I could put down that I was half-white and half-Asian, but she said, "No, you just have to choose one." Even though I knew I was probably bumming out some U.C. diversity honcho, I put an X in the box marked "white."

Why did I choose "white"? It was a matter of intellectual honesty. This takes a bit of explaining.

The truth is, I don't think of myself as either white or Asian. In fact, I don't think of myself in racial terms at all. If asked, I of course identify myself as what I am -- mixed-race, or Eurasian, or half-Japanese. I try to work the Scottish part of the mix in as well, because I like trumpeting my weird mongrel gene pool. But although I know I am a person of mixed race, that fact plays only the most minor role in my sense of myself. I am a mixed-race person, not a "mixed-race person."

What's the difference? People whose race or ethnicity defines their identity, or at least makes up a major part of it, are what I think of as quotation-mark people. They are not only mixed-race, they are "mixed-race." Those whose race or ethnicity has little or nothing to do with their identity, with their sense of themselves, are non-quotation-mark people. They may recognize themselves as black or Latino or Asian, be whatever race or ethnicity they are to the core, and proudly affirm they are such, but they aren't "black" or "Latino" or "Asian."

For me, my racial background has never meant anything one way or the other. There are no doubt many specific reasons for this, including my parents' unconcern about race, not having had any kind of a Japanese upbringing (whatever that means), growing up in Berkeley in the '60s, and so on. The bottom line is that no one ever really paid any attention to my race, so I didn't either. If I do think about it, it's with a smug, slightly juvenile sense of satisfaction that I'm different from just about everybody else and in a "cool" way. Beyond that, though, my racial background is meaningless. It plays no role in my sense of myself.

What this adds up to for me is that when I am forced against my will to make a reductive choice, as I was at U.C., the most honest thing is to choose white. I do that not because I see whiteness as a positive identification, or as my identity, but for precisely the opposite reason: because whiteness is the marker of racial invisibility in America. White, in other words, means no race, not the master race. I don't "feel" either Japanese or white. To feel either would involve some bad-faith reduction of my identity. But if forced to choose, I choose white, because that category, inaccurate as it is, reflects the fact that my racial background does not form my identity.


I've gone through the same battle of the boxes many times in my life. I always try to check two boxes, and if they won't let me, I'll check Asian/Pacific Islander. I happen to have been racialized growing up. Kamiya apparently wasn't. It's also possible that he's often been taken for white: his photo shows he has a lot less Asian features than I have. I still think his decision, combined with his reasoning, is wrong and counterproductive. He passively accepts whiteness as the default racial category. Whiteness is everywhere, but when you try to pin it down, it's nowhere. How then are we ever going to get rid of it? I support his right to reject racialization, even his personal decision to check the "white" box, but his reasoning is terrible.

I try to approach racial issues from a logical point of view, informed by personal experiences but not dominated by emotional reaction. I'm an angry Asian, not an apoplectic Asian. Still, reading Kamiya's account, and trying to respond to it, I'm getting angrier and angrier. It's almost a slap in the face of black people, of Asian people, of other hapas like myself. I realize there are a broad range of experiences out there when it comes to race, as well as theoretical disagreements. Many hapas, especially ones who grew up in places like the Bay Area and Hawaii, don't count race as an important part of their identity simply because they were rarely made conscious of their racial difference. But I was very conscious. I didn't create my hyphenation or my quotation marks, my environment forced them on me and I had to learn how to deal with them and turn them into something positive. And now, according to Kamiya, I should just get rid of them. Wow, if only it were that easy.

In real life I don't walk around bringing up race and yelling "look at me, I'm a hapa". I've never even joined a single-ethnicity organization in my entire life. I never address mellower Asians with insulting and unprovoked attacks like "stupid banana, wake up and get the white man off your back!" In real life I'm very polite and only bring up the subject of race when specifically asked. But I feel called to respond on the internet when writers tell me that my race shouldn't matter.

In short, Kamiya is taking the lazy way out. He stretches upwards and sees a great goal (the colorblind society) at the end of a long and difficult road. He tells all of us to hurry up and teleport there already, dammit, then he stumbles into the ditch and passes out. Thanks!

I thought about addressing the rest of his piece, where he actually gets back to talking about Barack Obama, but it gets so mushy it's like addressing a bowl of oatmeal. Blah blah blah erase racial quotation marks blah blah blah Martin Luther King speech content of their character blah blah blah black people sure are a resentful and paranoid bunch I hope Obama fixes their crappy attitude blah blah blah all you need is love.

Monday, January 08, 2007

Hapa, Halfrican, Barack Obama and Racist Brian Sussman

Hang in there if you're an adoption-oriented reader. This post is long but it gets to adoption at the very end.

As I touched on in my last post, when it comes to cultural and racial identity, I believe in showing people respect by calling them what they want to be called. Of course, this depends on reasonable knowledge of what they want to be called. It also depends on common sense... I mean, there's no way I'm going to refer to someone as a "Vampire-American," even if they ask very nicely.

I use both "black" and "African-American" as group names. Although the boundary is a bit vague, it's my understanding that black is more of a racial word and African-American is more of a cultural and ethnic word. And then of course there's "Black" with a capital B which has a much stronger meaning (power, pride) than the more neutral "black" with a lower case b. There are many black people in America whose status as African-Americans is dubious. One example: Haitian-Americans. Another more ambiguous example: Ethiopian-Americans. And then there are white South Africans and Northern Africans like Moroccans; non-black people from Africa almost never make the attempt to claim the word African-American because it tends to really irritate existing African-Americans, plus they already have other ethnic descriptors.

I think we'll have to wait a generation to see if African-American turns into a word able to encompass Haitian- and Ethopian-Americans, and if they want to claim it. For this reason I try to only use African-American to describe people 1) who specifically call themselves African-American or 2) whose families have lived in the United States for several generations.

It's also my understanding that multiracial African-Americans with some white ancestry prefer to simply classify themselves as black, or sometimes as "biracial" if they have one white parent, and that this is often a reaction of solidarity against institutionalized racism pitting light-skinned against dark-skinned. It's an issue that I'm very interested in, and one of the reasons is that my 5-year-old niece is black/biracial and her mother, my sister-in-law, is white. Her father is not around but her father's family are a very important influence in her life. In fact, I'm a little worried she may start to have uncomfortable feelings about being light-skinned, because I heard her say on a recent visit that she needs more sun to get a tan because she's not dark like her cousins. She's going to have to work through some racial identity issues as she grows up, and I really hope she can do it successfully, from a position of strength and pride.

One new word I've heard for biracial black/white is "Halfrican". Just looking at the printed word, I have bad feelings. The word "half" generally has negative connotations when it comes to race, because it can be read as the opposite of "whole". People who are only "half" sound incomplete. That's why I like "mixed" or "multi" or "bi" terminology much better. I've never heard black/biracial people call themselves "Halfrican" in a positive way. When people of other backgrounds call them that, it sounds like a nasty insult.

This is a meandering introduction to a very racist thing that someone said about Barack Obama on a radio show. The remarks are offensive to all intelligent human beings, and specifically offensive towards African-Americans AND multiracial people. Of course I'm not African-American but I feel directly insulted as a multiracial person, since they attack my own right to self-identify.

Melanie Morgan co-host on "Halfrican" Obama

On the December 4 broadcast of San Francisco radio station KSFO's Sussman, Morgan & Vic, in speaking to a co-host -- apparently Brian Sussman -- co-host Melanie Morgan referred to Sen. Barack Obama (D-IL) as an, "as you call, 'Halfrican.' "

....

From the December 4 edition of KSFO's Sussman, Morgan & Vic:

MORGAN: Senator Obama, who is, as you call, a 'Halfrican' --

SUSSMAN: Halfrican and, again, his father was -- his father was from Kenya, his mother's white. OK, now, I have nothing with mixed -- nothing against mixed-race people [atlasien: yeah, right] but, my point is, when this guy stands in front of a black audience, pretending like he was born and raised in the hood, and he can identify with their problems, he doesn't allow -- he is not, in my opinion -- 'cause my opinion is your average white guy -- he is not allowed to wear the African-American badge because his family are not the descendants of slaves, OK? He can't identify with the discrimination and the slavery and all of that that's gone into these black families for generations; he's a kid who was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth in a white family in Hawaii, OK? You wanna call me names for saying this? Go right ahead. I'm just telling you what the guy is.

MORGAN: Well --

TOM BENNER (aka "Officer Vic," KSFO morning traffic reporter): And you're not making this up. I mean, it's documented, for goodness sake. You can look it up.

SUSSMAN: I'm not making this up, so I just -- I get offended and I know I have many black friends [atlasien: yeah, right] who get offended when he stands in front of that black audience talking like he's from the hood, born and raised, and I can -- can identify with all of their issues. He can't!

MORGAN: Well, and guess what? It's working. It's working big-time.


Ooh, that whole conversation was so so wrong. These racist white people think they get to decide who's African-American and who isn't. I see an image of them guarding swimming pool entrances in 1960s Birmingham, turning away any too dark little kid, chuckling to themselves about how wise and powerful their decisions are. I love that description of the "African-American badge" too. I guess his idea is that real African-Americans have to have suffered discrimination and slavery, and then white people come along and give them a nice shiny badge for it.

Personally, I don't care whether Barack Obama describes himself as African-American or not. He could very well present a case that he's black, but not African-American. He chooses African-American, and his case for doing so also makes sense.

America's label game misses diversity of race

Obama was born in Hawaii and moved with his mother and Indonesian stepfather to Jakarta after his parents divorced. How does he define himself?

African-American.

"The reason that I've always been comfortable with that description is not a denial of my mother's side of the family," he told the New York Times.

"Rather, it's just a belief that the term African-American is by definition a hybrid term. African-Americans are a hybrid people. We're mingled with African culture and Native American culture and European culture."

He added: "If I was arrested for armed robbery and my mug shot was on the television screen, people wouldn't be debating if I was African-American or not. I'd be a black man going to jail. Now if that's true when bad things are happening, there's no reason why I shouldn't be proud of being a black man when good things are happening, too."


Obama shouldn't be forced to constantly justify himself and his identity. But he does it anyway, with good grace. I like the way he articulates his reasons for identifying himself as both black and African-American.

Asians are privileged, especially economically, in that we face much less job discrimination and criminal profiling than black people. But I've had to face so many other kinds of discrimination that I totally understand his reasoning in the last paragraph. That's why I call myself Asian and hapa, but not white. First of all, if I told white people I was white, they would make a little coughing noise and think I was crazy. Second, if I told Asian-American people I was white, they would think I hate myself. Third, since I've faced the bad issues Asian women face in America, I want to lay claim to all the good things that Asians have contributed to America. I'm proud of my white mother's side of the family, but I choose to be proud of them not in a racial way but in an ethnic way: as English and German settlers. These ancestors aren't all shining examples of humanity. I know some of them fought in the Civil War on the wrong side, and others were likely in the KKK. So I'm not proud of them in an unmeasured way, but most of them were just people trying to live their lives the best way they knew how.

I'm getting back to this Brian Sussman guy. Now here is the worst part. He is an adoptive father and according to one of the critical listeners he might have adopted black children.

From Spocko's Brain

--Now I know that Sussman has a whole patter about why he feels he can use this term (I get the impression that he has adopted children of mixed races, but I'm not sure) he clearly has a strong story to explain why he can say things like this whereas Morgan can't. But as my friend pointed out to me,

So what if he can? That's still a slur and racist, and *he's* not black. Hell, that would be derogatory if a black person said it about another black person, kind of like how it's derogatory for a black person to call another black person an "oreo," (black on the outside, white on the inside) or for a Native person to call another Native person an "apple" (red on the outside, white on the inside) . It's derogatory because it says negative things about *both* groups he's talking about, and he doesn't get to make that call, black adopted kids or not.


And always remember folks this commercially supported broadcast radio is brought to you by The Walt Disney Company! And ABC Radio! Advertisers should know what they are funding so they can make their own decision if they want to support this "Hot Talk".


I just can't believe this. It makes me mad on so many levels. Just on a selfish level, here I am, stressing about my possible transracial adoption, spending innumerable hours thinking through how to raise a black or white or ANY child with a healthy self-image, even wondering how to raise a biological child who looks white when I don't, debating when to be colorblind and just take it easy and when to bring up race, and here's this racist dork that someone let adopt black or multiracial kids. If this is true, I sincerely hope his children manage not to get too traumatized. But I really I hope it isn't true. Please, please please. I am going to email the blogger "Spocko's Brain" and see if he has more information later.

Sunday, January 07, 2007

Being Hapa

I've been outside my "racial environment" for 99.99% of my life. In any country I've ever lived in or visited, I stick out like a sore thumb. Most non-Asians in American assume I'm full Asian, then do a little double-take once they look at me closely. Sometimes they decide to do the obnoxious Asian country guessing game thing. In Asian countries, it's obvious what I am. Oddly enough, African-Americans (but only native Georgians) sometimes assume I'm Hispanic. I chalk it down to the fact that Hispanics and now Brazilians are relative newcomers to our state.

I can think of a few other hapas I've known. The first was a girl in Florida who was in my circle of college friends. Her father was in the military and her mother met him stationed in Japan. We got along but never clicked as friends. She eventually moved to California, and I moved to New York and then Atlanta. The second was a guy I met in a concert line in New York. His father was Chinese and his mother was white. I would never have known he wasn't white if he hadn’t told me. He had sandy hair, and his features were almost completely white. The third is a guy in Atlanta who's married to a close friend of my husband's. Like me, he's half-Japanese, looks much more Asian than white and speaks Spanish he learned in Mexico. He's interesting but has extremely weird conversational habits; his life, very unlike mine, totally revolves around skateboarding and Honda tuning.

There are only two places I'm aware of with people that look like me. There's a large group (Uighurs and some related) in the far northwest of China. Then there's a medium-sized group in Hawaii. I went on a weeklong visit to Hawaii about five years ago. At times I was surrounded by people who looked like me. It was amazing but terrifying. It was almost like a voice in my head going "Welcome home. This isn't home. Welcome home. This isn't home". Coming from a Florida background, I know how unfriendly tourist economies can be. That's the kind of treatment I was expecting. But from the body language other Hawaiians showed towards me, it was clear they didn't think of me as a tourist. I can't exactly explain it in physical terms. They didn't throw their arms around me, or even take much notice of me. Maybe it was in the way that they didn't take notice of me. I wasn't anyone special at all. Of course, this only lasted until I opened my mouth and they heard my very un-Hawaiian accent.

My visit to Hawaii was very disconcerting because it made me realize how much I was used to "sticking out": people assuming I'm a foreigner, asking me "where are you from" and refusing to take "Florida" for an answer, asking to touch my hair, at the most extreme even taking trophy photographs of me. Part of this is in my blood. Both my parents have a very high tolerance for being noticed, stared at or pointed out. My father spent a lot of his professional life in Africa. He and my mother have both traveled all over the world. They're used to being foreigners, and I was raised to believe that being foreign was nothing out of the ordinary. Still, both of them have hometown origins where the people looked more or less like them. I would have liked to have had that at some point. It's too late now; I really have no strong desire to move to Hawaii, although I'd love another visit.

I learned early on a great way to feel comfortable: just find a group that has a lots of different kinds of people. In any crowd that's all white or all Asian or all black I start to feel a bit nervous. When the crowd mixes up more, I relax. The same goes for foreign countries. I once had a fantastic summer living in Mexico City where I socialized with Mexicans from really diverse backgrounds as well as foreign students from Russia, Japan and Colombia. I've been very lucky to live a cosmopolitan life. I've had a lot of privileges that people coming from homogenous rural or isolated areas don't have.

I only learned I was "hapa" a few years ago. It's a Hawaiian word that's turning into a word for all mixed Asians. I love the word as much I hated the only other word I knew to describe me, "Eurasian". It sounds too much like "hey… yer Asian!" and it privileges "European" as if that were the standard to be deviated from. The only thing "hapa" sounds like to me is "happy". I've told my husband that I'm now a hapa, but haven’t told anyone else I know in real life. It just doesn't come up in normal conversation. "Haven’t seen you in a while, what's up? By the way, I've got a new name for my racial identity."

Maybe I should send them hapa cards!

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Adoption in Japan

My father was adopted in Japan. When he was adopted, Japan was a very different country. He grew up in a rural society that has now almost entirely disappeared. In between 1945 and today, Japan went through radical changes, much more radical than America during the same time. And this was on top of a previous century of radical changes. The only country I can think of that changed so much in the 20th century was Argentina. At one point in the early 20th century, one-third of the population of Argentina was foreign-born.

In Japan, the social engineering did not involve immigration; it was technological, familial, educational, economic, ecological.

The circumstances of my father's adoption are totally different than what takes place in Japan now. I've been researching it on and off for a while, and it's pretty depressing. Since I don't speak or read Japanese, I have to warn anyone who reads this that my perception might be misleading, so do your own research if at all possible. I can't rely on my father for information. He's decided that there is no adoption in Japan, whatsoever, period paragraph end. His logic is that there are so few children in Japan that it's impossible anyone would give one up.

Here are some basic differences between domestic adoption in America and in Japan.

1) Japan has an extremely low birth rate. For the large majority of the population, there is no religious or cultural proscription against birth control or abortion. This is one of the things that contribute to a low birth rate. Another is that Japan is in a "middle zone" in terms of population growth. In societies where children are labor commodities and support their parents, and women have few rights, the birthrate is going to be high. Once this economic dynamic changes -- children start costing money to raise and educate, and women gain a measure of reproductive freedom -- then the birth rate goes way down. This is where Japan is at right now. Spain and Italy are in a similar position.

Some of the Scandinavian countries have gone a step further and had success in increasing their birthrates, using generous maternity leaves and state subsidies. But in Japan, women have little incentive to have children. Sexism in the workplace is very strong. If a Japanese woman wants to have a career, a child is a major handicap. As long as she stays child- and husband-free she has one of the most materially enviable lifestyles in the world.

Japan is an aging country with few, very treasured children. Japanese are very conscious and fearful of the graying of their population. The alternative would be to keep the population at replacement level by allowing increased immigration. This brings us to number 2...

2) Japan is NOT a multicultural or multiracial society. There are minority groups like the Ainu and Korean-Japanese, but racism/ethnocentrism is strongly present against those who are not "real" ethnic Japanese. Racism is one reason why Japan will not allow increased immigration. Some of the children in the childcare system in Japan are multiracial, and some are the children of foreign workers, and these children are officially stateless. There would be major social obstacles in placement of these children in adoptive homes. See this ISSJ webpage for more context.

3) Japanese have an anti-adoption attitude. The new prime minister's wife is an infertile woman who has gone public about why she doesn't have a child. Apparently people don't talk about these things much, so her willingness to step forward was very radical. Unfortunately, she also gave voice to the common belief that adoptive parents cannot fully love their children.

From the China Daily:

Akie Abe's remarks to a magazine were remarkably frank for a prime minister's wife, reflecting her effort to show a more human side of her husband, Japan's youngest post-World War II premier.

Shinzo Abe, 52, has pledged to encourage Japanese to have more children to reverse a declining birthrate, triggering media speculation as to why he is childless himself.

In an interview with the monthly magazine Bungei Shunju, Akie Abe, 44, confessed she felt strong pressure to bear children because her husband is a third-generation politician.

"Coming from a household of politicians, there was of course a lot of pressure, including from local constituents. But now it has become difficult, in part because of my age, so people no longer tell me to keep at it," she said.

"At the early stage, I did go through fertility treatment. But I think that I should accept my fate that I am the wife of a politician who became prime minister, and that we did not have the gift of having children."

She said she considered adopting a child a rare occurrence in Japan other than within extended families and noted that adoption was "very common in the United States."

"But I wasn't able to go through with it mentally and I didn't have the confidence to raise a child, so it didn't become a reality."


4) Japanese are very good at ignoring problems. This is a pretty subjective statement. But for abandoned and abused Japanese children, there is a big problem, and everyone is busy ignoring it.

From a corporate foundation webpage:

Even though Japan is in the midst of a declining birthrate, every year more and more abused or neglected children are being placed children's homes. The number of facilities (555 as of 2005/12) to treat abused children is increasing nationwide, but chronic overcrowding persists with many needy children placed on waiting lists to receive care. In FY 2005 the social security budget was 84.2668 trillion yen out of which only a mere 3.8% went towards expenses related to children and family. Expenses related to care for the elderly took up 70.4% of the total budget. This is an enormous gap in priorities.


The flip side of the ability to ignore is the ability to create rapid change. America is known for its "can do" spirit but the Japanese can do even more. Once they fully set their mind to solve a problem or to change their society, they will accomplish their goals. Akie Abe's public mention of adoption is a tiny beginning.

So to put all these together, there are very few children born in Japan who are given up into the care of the state. Since Japan is so wealthy, children are rarely given up for reasons of poverty. Few children whose mothers did not want to conceive are born, because women have a fair amount of reproductive freedom and weak proscriptions against abortion.

An article was going around recently about a hospital in Japan that had installed a baby chute for women to drop off their infants. If this story was true, doesn't it mean that contrary to what I said, there is a lot of relinquishment going on?

TOKYO (Reuters Life!) - A Japanese hospital plans to set up the country's first "baby hatch" where mothers can drop off unwanted babies, who could then be offered for adoption.

Jikei Hospital in southern Japan said it plans to install what it is calling a "stork's cradle", consisting of a flap in an outside wall which opens on to a small incubated bed.

An alarm bell would ring within minutes after a baby was deposited so hospital staff could come and care for the infant.

"By installing the hatch, we want to rescue both parents and babies," said a hospital official. "Maybe there are some people who are suspicious about it, but we should not pretend not to see them and let them die. Babies are innocent."

The head of the hospital was inspired to set up the "baby hatch" after visiting Germany, where they have already been introduced. The hospital wants to set up the baby hatch by the end of this year after getting approval from local authorities.

Adoptions are relatively rare in Japan, while there is little resistance on religious grounds to abortions.


This is either a stupid, made-up story or a stupid hospital administrator falling victim to the "must have the latest dumbass gadget" syndrome which is endemic in Japan.

I once had a book of photographs from 1930s Japan. One was a very bizarre photo of a bunch of smiling young schoolboys naked except for dark goggles and speedos, clustered around a shiny metallic chamber. I asked my dad what on earth was going on in that photo. He explained that it was a UV chamber. They had them in Germany in the 1930s so that children would get more UV exposure and hence more Vitamin D. There was no medical reason at all for these chambers in Japan, since children there get very dark playing outside and there's much more sun than in Germany... but because the Germans had UV chambers, the Japanese had to have them too.

Anyway, there aren't many children, proportionally speaking, in the care of the state. But according to that foundation website, the number is growing. As the traditional extended family breaks down further and further, their numbers will grow even more.

Here's an account from a woman who adopted from one of the children's homes. It's from a publication called kanjiclinic.com:

Sho had been placed in the children's home by his birth mother when he was 3 months old. 25,000 children live in Japan's 527 state-run or subsidized children's homes. They are rarely discussed in public, and most are not available for adoption. The majority of Japanese who place their children in the permanent care of the state will not relinquish their parental rights. They would rather have their children remain in institutions, until the age of 18, than be adopted by strangers.

Sho's birth mother was an exception. She had recently agreed to allow his adoption, and the social worker was anxious to find a family for him immediately. After his second birthday, in just a few weeks, he would be uprooted from here and moved to a different institution, one for older children.

Of course, Sho was unaware of the enormous effect this encounter could potentially have on his future. Still, he sensed that something was in the air, and he was tense as he gazed at "Mama" and "Papa" for the first time. Clinging ever more tightly to the caregiver's neck, the poor little fellow burst into tears.


Here's a very sad passage from later in her account:

As my husband and I cuddled some of the other children at bedtime, Cha-chan told us that while the basic needs of all the children were met, there were simply not enough available laps and hands to give them a fully satisfying amount of affection. Most had no, or only rare, visitors.

Twice a year, she said, the director sent each legal guardian-- a parent or relative-- a photo documenting their child's growth. These were mailed out prior to New Year's and Bon, with a plea that the child be taken home overnight for those holidays, but few guardians came to get them.

Only Sho and one other child there were slated for adoption. Their guardians, unlike the great majority of others, had agreed to relinquish custody of the children so that they could be adopted. The others would be moved to an institution for older children when they turned 2.


Here's a description of the children from an internship program at UC Davis:

Since 1993, this program has offerd UC Davis students a unique opportunity to participate in an international, cultural and educational exchange. The children's homes accepting interns are long-established institutions with years of success preparing Japanese children for productive and successful lives. The homes are not quite orphanages, and not quite group homes; there is no direct English translation. Together with the Japanese staff and native college-student interns, UC Davis interns will share in the lives of school-age youngsters.
...

LIVING WITH THE CHILDREN:
The children sometimes behave badly because they have not been able to live with their own parents or maintain normal relationships with other adults from whom they might absorb normal social behavior. Accordingly, if such problems occur, the interns will be expected to point them out and try to convince the children to behave properly, even scolding them if necessary. This approach is the foundation on which to build a trusting relationship.

The principle elements of the intern's work will be helping out with the children's daily dressing, meals, schoolwork, plus any other duties necessary to maintain a supportive environment. A lot of time will also be devoted to entertaining and playing with the children.

With only 1 or 2 exceptions, the children at the institutions are both mentally and physically able to participate in normal activities. However, some children who appear to be normal and cheerful may in fact have experienced personal difficulties before coming to these institutions and will be suffering from severe emotional wounds.


My first reaction when learning about the childrens' homes was anger. How could the families of these children condemn them to such a life? How would these children ever complete the educational path which is so crucial to Japanese society and identity? If their families allowed them to be adopted, they'd at least have a chance not to live at the margins of society.

After I thought about it some more, I realized my anger was misplaced. I tried to put myself in their shoes. If I was the guardian of one of these children, I might think of adoption as the worst of all evils. "Adoptive parents can never fully love their children. If I allow them to be adopted, they would just be abused and treated like a servant. I have a lot of trust in government institutions. They will know what's best for us. They can raise them."

I don't think this is a very healthy attitude.

Many people argue the case that adoption in the U.S. -- and they mainly refer to infant, private adoption -- is viewed too positively. I've found that I basically agree with that. Adoption shouldn't be the best of all possible alternatives - the default choice. If someone doesn't want to parent, they shouldn't be forced; otherwise, the child belongs with their blood relatives over anyone else. I don't run into that "adoption uber alles" sentiment a lot in foster care system adoption perspectives, but I know it's out there, and it's kind of weird, especially since it's usually wrapped up in religion. When we did our adoption classes we had several exercises where we had to take the perspective of the social worker and decide who should stay where. It was pretty clear who belonged back with their parents, who should be adopted, who should stay in foster care and enter independent living. Of course real lives are much more complicated than condensed sample case histories, but the principle is the same: adoption is one of several possible solutions for the welfare of the child.

The problem in Japan is that adoption is almost written out of the picture. In my opinion, their domestic adoption is more messed up than their international adoption program, which is so expensive it disqualifies too many people, but overall seems logical. A tiny number of children (the last yearly figure I remember is 40) are adopted out of the country each year, and the rules require a strong connection to Japan. It's possible this rule might be slightly relaxed for the stateless or non-ethnic-Japanese children. One couple I read about qualified because they lived in Hawaii surrounded by a Japanese-American community, but most people qualify because they themselves are Japanese-American. I would qualify, if I could afford the massive fees (I've heard $40-$50,000 ) and if my father didn't have a blindfold fastened so firmly on his eyes. I would love to adopt a multiracial child from the system there, because I have a "there but for the grace of God go I" feeling when I think about growing up multiracial in Japan. I've faced a lot of racial problems here, but it's nothing compared to what it would have been like had my family stayed in Japan. There are families that stick with it, and I wish them all the best; with a lot of parental foresight and the right choice of school, the children will grow up happy. These kinds of families are eventually going to change Japan for the better. But a multiracial child growing up in a childrens' home... it really hurts me to think about it.

I hope that in future there is greater awareness in Japan about adoption, and a greater willingness to believe that waiting children can be loved by their adoptive parents. Like I said before, the Japanese can solve any problem they really want to solve, and once awareness begins, I predict a snowball effect, a massive information campaign and a complete change leading to increased domestic adoption and greater childcare support services.

I also think Japan should start a special international program for the adoption of stateless and multiracial children waiting in childrens' homes and subsidize a percentage of their legal adoption fees.

By the way, if you are a reader who knows anything more about this subject, I would greatly appreciate a comment or an email. If you disagree violently with anything I said, just let me know why.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

50 Experiences of Racially Mixed People

1996, Maria P. P. Root, Ph.D. Racial Experiences Questionnaire and 2003 In The Multiracial Child Resource Book. Seattle, WA: Mavin Foundation.

50 Experiences of Racially Mixed People
Maria P. P. Root

"The 50 questions or comments and experiences evolved from a questionnaire I developed for a study on biracial siblings I conducted from 1996 to 1997. These questions and comments provide an introduction to the way in which race consciousness is brought up directly, sideways, and from all sides for people of mixed heritage. These comments and questions, though not an exhaustive list, provide a window into how this country internalizes assumption about race, belonging, and identity. They socialize the mixed race person to understand as well as question race American style. It is a monoracial system; one race per person. Not everyone experiences these questions or comments the similarly. One person might enjoy being asked, "What are you?" whereas their sibling might dread and resent the question. This list provides a launching point for sharing, discussing, laughing, debriefing, and educating."

1. You have been told, "You have to choose; you can't be both." No
2. Your ethnicity was mistakenly identified. Yes
3. People assumed your race to be different by phone than in person. Yes
4. You are accused of not acting or wanting to be Latino, Asian, Black… No
5. You have been told, "Mixed race people are so beautiful or handsome." Yes

6. Strangers looked between you and your parent(s) to figure out if you were related. No
7. You have been told, "You don't look Native, Black, Latino…" Yes
8. You have been asked, "What are you?" Yes
9. People say things they might not otherwise say if they knew how you identified racially. No
10. You have been asked, "Where are you from?" Yes
11. You have repeatedly been the recipient of stares or longer than passing glances from strangers. Yes
12. You have been told, "You look exotic." Yes
13. Your choice of friends has been interpreted as your "selling out" or not being authentic. No
14. You have been accused of "acting or wanting to be white." No
15. Judgments of your racial authenticity have been based upon your boyfriend/s or girlfriend's (partner's) race. No
16. Comments are made about your hair or hairstyle, skin color, eye shape etc. Yes
17. You have been subjected to jokes about mixed race people. No
18. You have been told, "You think you're too good for your own kind." No
19. Grandparent(s) or relatives don't accept you because of your parents' interracial relationship. No
20. Your parents or relatives compete to "claim" you for their own racial or ethnic group. Sometimes
21. You have been told, "You have the best of both worlds." Yes
22. You have been asked about your racial or ethnic heritage as an object of curiosity. Yes
23. Upon meeting you, people seem confused by your last name. They do not think it "matches" you. Yes
24. People assume you are confused about your racial identity or have had a hard time figuring it out. Don't Know
25. People speak to you in foreign languages because of how they interpret your physical appearance. Yes
26. You have been told, "Society doesn't recognize mixed race." Not in America
27. You have been told, "You aren't really Black, Latino, Asian…" No
28. You have been mistaken for another person of mixed heritage who does not resemble you. Yes
29. You have been told you must be full of self-loathing or hatred because of how you racially identify yourself. No
30. You have been told, "You are a mistake." No
31. Different people perceive your race differently based upon the company you keep. Don't Know
32. The race people assign you varies in different parts of the U.S.A. Yes
33. You have difficulty filling out forms asking for a single race. Yes
34. You identify your race differently than others identify you. Yes
35. You are told, "You aren't like other Indians, Asians, Latinos…" Yes
36. Your siblings identify their race differently than you do yours. N/A
37. You have been called racial slurs of groups with which you do not share heritage. Yes
38. Friends suggest that you date someone based upon the race or ethnicity with which they think you should identify. No
39. Your parents identify your race differently than you identify. Yes
40. You are told, "You aren't Black, Latino, Asian…enough" No
41. Your mother was assumed to be your nanny or babysitter. No
42. A stranger assumes that your father is your "older boyfriend" or your mother is the "older woman." No
43. You were treated differently by relatives or your parents than a sibling on the basis of racial features. No
44. You were well liked by peers but were not asked for dates. Yes
45. You wish you were darker and try to get as much sun as possible. No
46. People assume your father was in the military. Yes
47. You have enrolled in Spanish language classes in order to develop the ability to say "Yes" to the question, "Do you speak the language?" and remove one of the blocks to authenticity. No
48. Your otherwise friends become more distant when they think associating with you will make their racial authenticity or popularity questionable. No
49. You have been knowingly approached and asked, "Your mother's white (black, Asian), huh?" Yes
50. You have tried to hide one or both parents from view of people who know you but are not your closest friends because you anticipate they will treat you differently. No

This was a great questionnaire to fill out for myself. It showed me how much I share with other multiracial people and also how much my experience may also be unique and separate from everyone else.

I look very Asian. Most non-Asian Americans look on me first as Asian and then on second glance think that I might be multiracial. I don't look quite Asian enough to be mistaken as full Asian by other Asians.

I have never had to struggle to be perceived as an authentic member of an ethnic group or race. I was always ruled out of group membership from the very beginning, so I never bothered trying very hard.

Even though most of my most visible racial features are like my father, I also closely resemble my mother. No one seeing the two of us together has ever thought we were not related.

The question about the military did indeed make me laugh. It's amazing how often I get that.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Getting Started 3+3

Hello! I hope this blog will be of interest to people in the adoption community. Ultimately it is really to exercise my brain a little bit while I am taking classes, preparing and thinking about our future placement. I have already been participating on some adoption boards and reading lots of adoption blogs. This has helped me learn incredibly valuable things and also helped me to discharge the nervous mental energy that I find building up during the adoption process.

I also want to use this blog to practice my writing skills. During my academic years I became fluent in a very ornate and formal style, so that I now have to force myself to use contractions. Nowadays I mostly write business memos and IMs. I really want to get back to communicating in a more natural, fluid and expressive style.

To get started out, here are three Asian thingies about myself and three adoption links I recommend.

1. I am an Angry Asian. Asian-Americans can basically be divided into Angry Asians and Mellow Asians. I received some pretty awful treatment from white people (and a few black and Hispanic people) when growing up. Partly because of this treatment I have a chip on my shoulder about a lot of things. Since I live in a very diverse place and have a small, "with-it" circle of friends, my racial issues rarely come up in day-to-day life, but are much more apparent when I communicate on the internet. Mellow Asians mostly grew up in places like Hawaii and don't feel the need to spend much time worrying about racial issues. The lucky bastards!

2. I don't usually call myself an Asian-American or a Japanese-American. I don't mind at all if other people call me that, or call themselves that. I will occasionally use the term, but only to distinguish myself from Asians who are not Americans. I just don't like the implication that I am only 50% American. When white people start calling themselves an unwieldy hyphenated name like Caucasian-American, that's when I will change my attitude.

3. I am a very untypical Japanese-American (there I go breaking the rule!). I have deep roots in America but not on the Japanese side. On my mother's side, our ancestors came over from England to Virginia in the 17th century. My father is a full Japanese citizen (he and my mother divorced when I was fairly young). Therefore, no one in my family had any connection to the concentration camps. My biological Japanese grandfather died on a battleship in the Pacific fighting against the American fleet; my maternal grandfather served in the army in West Virginia but was never sent overseas.


1. Soul Of Adoption is my favorite adoption forum. When I first started out, I began looking through Adoption.com. This is the board with the most traffic on the web. I lurked and found a lot of great posts, but something about the site was bothering me. I realized they had kicked off anyone who mentioned gay adoption. There were different complaints about too much censorship; plus, Adoption.com is part of a media venture and includes commercial links. Soulofadoption.com is less-trafficked, but still very busy, and designed to be inclusive of everyone. There are also many adoptees and parents of origin who post on there, and they present a very broad spectrum of experiences and beliefs about adoption. Two of my favorite boards there are the African-American and the Debate board. The African-American board is a combined board for African-American parents and parents of African-American children.

2. American Family is a blog I discovered very recently. The family is like my parents: Asian dad, white mom (although I hope they don't get divorced like mine!). They have a hapa child and are in the middle of adopting a girl from China. I look forward to reading about their progress.

3. My favorite foster care adoption blog is Big Mama Hollers. This woman has 39 children, wow! Her writing skills are so great that she actually explains how she can pull it all off. She is really that one in a million mother. She recently had some major surgery and her family is going through some tough emotional times, but I'm sure they will pull through.