Until I turned 8, that is.

At age 8 my father, who worked for a  Japanese trading firm, jumped on board the growing number of Japanese expatriates that worked abroad; my family found ourselves in Texas that year.

Within months I switched from drinking Yakult to drinking Capri-Sun and from watching Doraemon to things like “Arthur” and “Hey Arnold!” I attended a public school, picked up English as my second language, and made American friends of all races.

I am, what my motherland labels, a kikokushijo (帰国子女).

The increasingly globalized economy has forced many Japanese companies to send their workers abroad. Countries of destination range from anywhere in the world, such as neighboring Asian countries (like Singapore, where I lived for 2 years), America, and even Africa for some. And when these employees go abroad, what do they do with their families?

Bring them along, of course!

Children of these Japanese expatriate families thus gain the label of kikokushijo, or literally “repatriate children”. These Japanese children experience most or parts of their education abroad in international and local schools; some, if available, choose to attend Japanese schools in their localities. Regardless of what type of education they receive overseas, these kids are plucked out of their motherland and raised in a society completely foreign to them. In the US, a similar term, “third culture kids,” has also come about as a way to distinguish these children who spent significant time out of their parents’ culture.

Because of their unique and globalized upbringing, kikokushijo have gained somewhat of a particular image among the Japanese media and society–but despite few stereotypes that portray these kids as “special elites”, some kikokushijo find their motherland not as welcoming upon their return. That brings us to the question: who are the kikokushijo, really?

Kikokushijo In Media: Super-Children!

The Japanese media — especially in anime and manga alike — often use the kikokushijo label on major protagonists.

Perhaps one of the most famous kikokushijo of all time is the tennis prodigy Ryoma Echizen from Prince of Tennis, Konomi Takeshi’s best-selling manga with a cult following of fans all around the world. In the story, he’s set as a tennis prodigy who grew up in Los Angeles. He then moves back to Japan, tries out for his school’s tennis club, and becomes the number-one freshman rookie of his team, unleashing some mind-blowing tennis moves that are probably scientifically impossible to mankind.

Or perhaps some may recognize Taiga Kagami from recent popular series, Kuroko No Basuke. Like Ryoma, Taiga hails from Los Angeles and moves back to attend high school in Japan. And again like our favorite tennis prodigy, he joins his school’s basketball club as an eager freshman, talented with skills that he’s learned through playing ball in the States.

Some of you might recognize this familiar character from one particularly infamous anime — Asuka Langley Soryu from the Evangelion series is also considered a kikokushijo. Oh, and she happens to be part German, which just puts more emphasis on her “foreign” background as well.

We’re not crazy maniacs, I swear.

Somehow, the kikokushijo labeling finds itself in popular manga and anime– and it’s tacked onto protagonists who are often unusually talented in one particular activity, whether it is sports or manipulating giant, humanoid robots.

In short, kikokushijo are seen in the media somewhat like super-children with special talents. Of course, not every kikokushijo comes back to Japan with special abilities, though I guess I wouldn’t mind trying my hand at a robot or two.

“Saving” Kikokushijo

But snap back into reality– these kikokushijo are no super-freaks of nature. In fact, the Japanese society saw them in a much more negative light during the 1970s.

Japan, until recently, had a tendency to lean towards homogeneity, with a particular desire to keep their country relatively “Japanese”– and such was the case four decades ago, when returnee children were seen as “too individualistic”, “too different”, and “too Westernized”. In the eyes of the Japanese public, these children needed to be “saved”– they needed to be reintegrated back into Japanese culture. All foreignness had to be stripped away from these returnee children; the languages they’ve learned overseas, the ideas, norms and values they became accustomed to during their time abroad was seen as “unfit” for these kids to have if they were to return back into the Japanese society.

Perhaps this is the reason why the term kikokushijo was invented– in order to categorize the children for easy detection by the public, so that they could be salvaged from their doom of being “un-Japanese”.

Of course, such narrow-scope of views on returnee kids didn’t last very long. As the world became globalized and interaction with the international community increased during the 1980s economic boom, the Japanese society began to see these children as an important asset to the future of their country.

After all, many of these returnees came back with language skills and were comfortable interacting with different cultures– and Japan realized that it needed such assets to uphold the country’s presence in the international society as a global, modern country. Because these children often times came from well-to-do, educated families with high-income earning parents, the Japanese public began to see kikokushijo as belonging to a certain “elite” class. In the eyes of the society, kikokushijo were  children who had access to different opportunities abroad, especially in terms of gaining fluency in a foreign language.

One way Japan began to embrace their kikokushijo more can be seen through their education system. Japanese middle and high schools as well as colleges began to accommodate returnee children by instituting special category in their entrance exam procedure, dubbed as kikokushijo-waku (repatriated student category). Those who apply through the category are given special attention to their background living and studying abroad. The exams also takes into account the difference in educational systems that these returnees have been raised in, since some choose to attend international and local schools, while others stay within the Japanese educational system via Japanese schools in their localities.

Hostilities Still Remain

Shift in attitude towards these returnee kids doesn’t necessarily mean that the old stereotypes and prejudice went away. In fact, it’s very much still present.

Growing up as a kikokushijo myself, I’ve heard countless of horror stories involving fellow returnee kids being bullies and shunned at school, simply because they’re… well, different.

Blurt out a word of foreign language and you receive intense stares from the whole class. Talk about your experiences living abroad as frankly as possible, and you’re perceived as bragging. Bullies force these returnee kids to speak in a foreign language to “prove” that their life abroad is the honest truth, when a good chunk of kikokushijo do not learn a new language because they attended Japanese schools in their localities overseas.

Some teachers in local schools fail to help their class understand and welcome the returnee into their community. A friend of mine who returned to Japan during middle school once mentioned that her teacher simply shrugged off the situation as shikata ga nai, or “it can’t be helped”– that by living abroad we automatically become subject of bullying, and that it’s no surprise because we’re “different”.

I remember in 5th grade my parents, who predicted that they too will return to Japan sooner or later, discussed placing me in an international school so that I could avoid this grim fate of being yet another victim of bullying in a local school. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I did return to Japan for schooling, and find myself shuddering at the ominous thoughts and stories I’ve heard of the negativity kikokushijo face in their own motherland.

Bringing An End To Kikokushijo Dilemma?

Kikokushijo are becoming even more common in Japan, and it’s no surprise. With the ongoing globalization and Japan’s positive attitude towards being more open to the international community- be it cultural exchange, trade, and business- there is bound to be increase in the number of expatriate families being sent abroad.

Nowadays, the Japanese society is more understanding of these returnee kids than the past– there are certainly more schools that understand the needs of these returnee children, accommodate them, and give them a good experience coming back to their motherland. And certainly not all returnee children become bullied just because of their different background. Many of them settle down with no particular issue, make friends, and their life goes on as usual. But certain stereotypes do remain, which can lead to misunderstanding between returnee children and the local Japanese communities.

Preexisting stereotypes and prejudices are not easy to let go– and some will surely continue to see us in a strange manner. Contrary to popular forms of media, kikokushijo are ordinary Japanese children—just because they lived abroad doesn’t automatically make them any better at anything, be it tennis, basketball, or… operating huge robots.

Kikokushijo may be a different batch of kids within the Japanese youth, subject to pros and cons of being “different” in one way or another– but as Japan learns to actively interact globally, perhaps such dilemmas that these kids face when returning back to their motherland will die out.

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Bonus Wallpapers!

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My own experience has been between the two. Search the internet (and even this blog!) and you’d probably get tons of articles written by foreigners in Japan. But very few of them come from people who actually can blend in, and this in itself brings an entirely new and different set of issues.

The Good Stuff

Not standing out can be a very good thing sometimes. Many foreigners complain about the constant staring that they receive – if they speak English in public they get stared at. If they speak Japanese in public they get stared at. In the toilet doing their own business they get stared at. Some people embrace the attention – some do not.

In addition to this, seemingly harmless and often well-meaning Japanese remarks such as “oh you are so good at using chopsticks!” or “oh you can write kanji!” are perfectly fine – at first. After a few months in Japan however, these start grating on many people because it just signals to them how “foreign” they are in Japanese society.

For us however, we never do receive that kind of attention unless perhaps we open our mouths and speak a different language. And while I do get “do you use chopsticks where you come from?” or “oh you can write Kanji” (my race invented it dammit!), I most certainly do not get it as much as the majority of the other foreigners in Japan.

Another very true thing is that many Japanese get very self-conscious around foreigners because, quite simply, they simply do not know how to act around someone from a different cultural background. This is partly because the Japanese are very keen to avoid offending other people – however, when placed in a situation with someone visibly different and probably from a different country,  their offense-avoiding radar goes into overdrive. As East-Asians we don’t naturally put the Japanese “on guard” by default, sometimes because they think you’re Japanese, but also perhaps because you don’t look that different from them. Therefore, perhaps on a subconscious level I am not recognized as being that “different” too.

Furthermore, if you register yourself as a resident of Japan, you are even allowed to create a Japanese common name (tsuumei), or basically a Japanese alias for yourself. Nothing stops you from using it to apply for jobs, use at school or printing it on your name-card. Basically, if you make a tsuumei for yourself and can speak an at least near-native level of Japanese, there is nothing stopping you (except for the “nationality” box on forms… and grammar mistakes) from passing off as and living life as a typical Japanese person. This is in fact what many ethnic Koreans, especially those descended from families who came to Japan before the end of World War II, do in real life. Japan’s original peoples, the Ainu, had to do it too.

The Not-So-Good Stuff

Unfortunately, not standing out has its drawbacks too.

Take for example something which is utterly obvious to most foreigners in Japan – being a foreigner you get to take many liberties that the Japanese cannot themselves take. For example, you will be allowed to be much more direct, honest and critical about issues in a way that would invite bullying if you were Japanese. Can’t really understand how to divide the rubbish? It’s okay, after all you’re a gaijin. Some people do take this to an extreme though – there are some who, for example, buy the cheapest train ticket available and pretend to be lost when they get to the station they wanted to go to. The station staff often apparently just let them exit – after all, they are just a bunch of lost gaijin.

To give an extreme example, can you imagine three East Asians doing the same thing (not that they should)? It is clear that they would have much less success doing so than if they were visibly foreign. Similarly, in terms of being able to speak freely and other things, we don’t get that many “gaijin liberties” living in Japan.

There are many different reasons to this. As said earlier, because you look the same, people will subconsciously assume that you are the same. Secondly, one strand of logic, which isn’t actually wrong, goes: Hey you’re Asian. Shouldn’t you know how Asia works with all the rules and politeness?

Exoticism

There’s a subtler dimension to this though. This appeared on one of my friend’s Facebook wall one day.

“Was with a group of white friends last night. Japanese guy approaches, introduces himself, talks to all the white guys, looks at me, ignores, walks away. Maybe it’s time I put on makeup to make my eyes bigger and nose taller…”

Perhaps said Japanese guy mistook him for another Japanese person but the point is clear: There are actually lots of Japanese people who want to make friends with foreigners. Often, this is because they really do want to know more about the outside world or really just because they want to be friends. However, sometimes it’s just because foreigners are “exotic.” Thus, it’s no surprise then that they gravitate towards the more “exotic” looking ones over the Asian ones.

This is also expressed in other ways. For example, many of my friends who are looking to teach English say that private English schools and people looking for private English tutors prefer to hire non-Asians over visibly Asian people – even if said Asian person is a native speaker of English.

How To Deal With It

The above does not mean that Asians cannot make themselves stand out though. As said earlier, get a weird haircut or a tattoo or speak loudly in a different language (especially English) and voila – you’ve announced to anyone that you’re different. Likewise, be extremely extroverted, frank and/or rude in a stereotypically gaijin way and you’d be treated like a full-fledged gaijin at least by the people who have known you for a while.

The extremely odd thing, and the counter to the point said above about how being Asian allows you to lower the guard of the Japanese that you first meet, is that sometimes, you have to go through this “gaijin coming out” process. If you can’t speak fluent Japanese, this is often after the Japanese person realizes that your Japanese is a bit off and asks you where you are from. If you can speak fluent Japanese, this is often after the Japanese person has had a perfectly normal conversation with you and asks where in Japan you are from, your name or about your high school.

You then tell them that you’re from this-and-this country and the conversation usually simply continues, after the customary 日本語上手ですね (Your Japanese is so good!). Occasionally there is this sense of awkwardness – then you know that the offense-avoidance radar is getting scrambled. And very occasionally, as described by a friend of a friend: “you feel that a wall comes up and that the conversation stops.”

As you can see, very coming out-ish.

It’s Not About Which Is Easier

It really is not. Neither is it about who has the advantage or who has the disadvantage – because we all have our different advantages and disadvantages. Some people would much rather have the freedom that comes with being obviously different but then to some people being stared at by nearly everyone wherever one goes is extremely stressful.

What is true is that each situation has its different challenges and they often require different approaches to handle them. Some use the opportunity to lie low and under the radar; others make the extra effort to stand out.

But then again, everything has its own challenges. Being Japanese in Japan definitely has its challenges too. So, all else being said, all there is to do is to recognize your own situation, and choose your method of life.

Now, when I say “overwhelmed” with English words, I don’t just mean there are a lot of them. I mean they are everywhere in Japan- staring you down and mocking you every way you turn. You can’t hide. They’re watching you.

At first, this fact was easy for me to just accept, even if it wasn’t what I expected Japanese to be (Free English words? score!), and it’s not especially apparent to residents of Japan who are surrounded by it everyday.

But, have you ever wondered why there are so many English words lurking about in Japan like a bunch of drunk party crashers?I mean, who invited them there anyway when Japan has a perfectly good language of its own? I’ll tell you why. The motivation for absorbing so many words from other languages can be broken down into four categories: compensation, upgrading, obscuring, and humor.

Compensation and Modernization

“Compensation” is probably the most obvious reason for stealing (I mean borrowing) words from foreign languages. In terms of linguistics, compensation has to do with absorption of foreign loanwords into the areas of a language where vocabulary is not yet developed or does not yet already exist. Since languages start off with an abundance of vocabulary in some fields, and a lack of vocabulary in others (see Part 1), it’s only natural that with language contact and the introduction of new cultural concepts, things get traded.

After Japan’s isolation period ended in 1868 and the doors to trade with the West were finally (forced) open, Japan had a lot of “catching-up” to do. With the trading of new goods from aboard, a whole heap of Western and technical terminology breached the floodgates. Then, with the American occupation during the years following WWII, Japan was heavily influenced by the ‘Murican forces – Japan was going to learn the word for cheeseburger whether they liked it or not! Of course, this introduced a whole slew of other words and ideas to the language that had never been present before. One of them was probably type 2 diabetes.

Okay, so it’s pretty obvious that English loanwords have often compensated for gaps in the Japanese vocabulary (spoon, fork, knife) and vice versa (sushi, tsunami, rickshaw). But, what about the cases in which a foreign word is adopted where a perfectly good native Japanese word already exists? This is where things get interesting – and complicated.

As you may have noticed, the rate at which Japanese has absorbed loanwords has resulted in a number of synonyms in the language, making it all the more frustrating for learners. I realize English is even worse, but seriously, does there have to be 6 words in the dictionary for everyone one I look up (Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, catch a tiger by his toe?). Yes, it does seem ridiculous, but there are reasons for everything.

Let me Upgrade You

Just as Kango, or words of Chinese origin, can have a classical, academic effect in the Japanese language (see Part 1), Western-based terms, especially from English, have effects of their own. One of these effects is social upgrading.

Due to a mess of political and cultural influences over the years, the English language is often regarded with a sense of elitism and prestige in Japan (though, sometimes it’s the opposite). Therefore, upgrading in this case refers to the social benefits received by using English loanwords in Japanese. In other words, using English vocabulary is a way of building one’s social image and making others say “Oh you fancy, huh?”

I got street cred, yo.

One example of this is using technical English terminology to sound as if you know something special and high-level. It’s sort of the same thing old Victorian era men did when they threw in random French words as if everyone knew French. I suppose since everyone is graded on their English skills in school, it’s almost like being really good at a subject like math in the US… sort of.

If it’s true that English carries an air of prestige, then it’s only natural that advertising companies would eat this stuff up (they have to sell you stuff so you can be cool, of course). Countless companies in Japan have created English advertising campaigns in an attempt to make their products look high-class, or “swag” as you kids say. And since commercials have such an influential force over the very flexible minds of young whippersnappers, English has become the coolest of the cool (it’s just so ironic).

Consequently, more and more English words have flooded the Japanese pop culture scene in recent years. However, because English is obviously not the native language of Japan, this has resulted in some pretty hilarious and downright confusing situations.

Although social upgrading is not the primary motivation for adopting English loanwords, it is especially associated with communication between youth and in the commercial realm.

Obscuring the Facts

English loanwords are not absorbed solely for fashion purposes. When I asked my Japanese friend Yuri how she felt when hearing English loanwords, she said:

“English words make everything sound blurry and vague.”

It happens in every language; foreign words are used to cover-up unpleasant or taboo ideas. Using a foreign word in place of a native one has the effect of obscuring the meaning, therefore blunting the force of said word. So, just as I can yell “scheiße!” in an American grocery store surrounded by elderly women without turning too many heads, people in Japan could potentially get away with advertising a big ‘ol F-bomb on their knickers.

That’s one classy granny. Now, an older woman in a “fart” shirt might seem innocent enough – just another helpless victim of marketing – but there are times when loanwords are used for less reputable purposes.

Rebel Yell

Angsty teenagers and rebels everywhere have their own way of sticking it the man, and language is usually a part of that. Japanese people who fit into this “rebellious” category often try to put themselves out of the mainstream by using language opaque to outsiders, and what better way to do that then to confuse everyone with English?

Using English as a rebellious language works in two ways: 1) instead of using it in a positive context, English words are usually selected to refer to negative ideas, and 2) the English language is sometimes mangled and warped to fit a particular group, separating it completely from standard usage.

For example, トラブる or トラブする means to make trouble, ペーパー (paper) means counterfeit money, and アド (address) refers to a hidden location. Graffiti written in romanized characters can also be found spewed all over the cities, giving the same effect of obscurity. Much of this has to do with creating in-groups and keeping social distance from the “majority.” Like man, if you don’t know yo street language, you be dissin’ yo homies. Word.

My English subtitles are so street, man.

Don’t Feel Guilty

Another effect English loanwords have is the diminishing of guilt associated with taboo subjects by creating euphemisms or codes. An interesting example is DCブランド. The original meaning of this phrase is “discount on name brand goods,” but it’s come to refer to students whose grades are primarily low Cs and Ds. Oh, the scandal! Money lending companies also like to take advantage of the vagueness of English words. “Money loan? Oh, that doesn’t sound so bad.”

Another example of this would be the words “hug” and “kiss” in Japanese. Have you ever wondered why English loanwords are used in these situations when obviously hugs and kisses weren’t imported from the UK or America (or were they)? Of course, these words do exist in Japanese, but over time their English counterparts have replaced them as common use words. According to my friend Yuri:

“If someone says せっぷん (kiss) or ほうよう (hug) in Japanese, I think everyone would be like, ‘Huh?! What happened?!’”

Blasphemy!!!

So, the Japanese words for hug and kiss sound very heavy and serious, while their English counterparts sound less like a dramatic scene in a K-drama and more like a good pat on the back. Good to know. If you think about English, “taboo” words are disguised all the time, too – especially by widely giggling junior high students. Giggity!

Be Polite!

Obscuring the truth is not always a bad thing. I mean, do you really have to tell your girlfriend that in fact, yes, her butt does look ginormous in those pants? In Japanese, using the English counterparts to native terms can sometimes be polite. For example, if you want to say copulate in Japanese, using “エッチ (ecchi, or H)” is a nicer way to do so, and saying “トイレ (toire)” instead of “便所 (benjo)” is always a good choice if you want to save your poor grandmother’s ears from your blasphemous mouth.

My granddaughter says what on Facebook now?

My friend Yuri gave a great example of this concept, too:

“When I don’t like something I can just say: ‘この部品はスタンダード (standard) から外れているかな’ (kono buhin wa sutandaado kara hazureteiru kana, “I wonder if this part is lacking something…“)

“Standard,” huh? Sounds pretty vague to me. During the interview she went on to describe how even her sociology textbook is filled with indirect English terms, used to avoid being overly harsh on touchy subjects. One of the chapter titles in her sociology textbook was: ネガティブなまなざしを感じ取るースティグマ化 (negatibu na manazashi wo kanjitoru – sutigumaka, Looking at negative perceptions – a changing stigma). If you’ll notice, the words “negative,” and “stigma” are both in English. If you try looking over some Japanese material, you might notice this trend.

Have Some Humor

The last use of English loanwords in Japanese I will touch briefly on is humor. Although it can be difficult to understand humor in other cultures, making fun of other languages is always a classic. However, since English is studied by all students in Japan, it’s a special case. Comedians love to twist the language and make it sound even stupider. For example, one comedian gets laughs by attaching the Japanese honorific “o” to plain loanwords like “juice.” Apparently the ridiculousness of the whole thing is a real gut-buster (I don’t get it).

The use of loanwords in Japanese is very complicated, and this is no way an exhaustive list of uses. However, getting a feel for the flavor English loanwords have in the language is a great way to better understand Japanese, especially when it comes to all those synonyms (and maybe even some Japanese humor). Although this “Westernization” of the Japanese language has been strongly criticized in recent years, all societies have their own ways of expressing social issues through language, and I happen to find the case of English loanwords in Japanese especially mind blowing. Have any thoughts on the subject? Hit me up in the comments section below.

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Sources:
Language Contact in Japan: a Sociolinguistic History

Read All the Posts in This Series:
Japanese, The Borrower Language Part 1: Where the Japanese Language Came From
Japanese, The Borrower Language Part 2: Twisting Words
Japanese, The Borrower Language Part 3: Why They Do It