Where #ImFrom: Struggle for satisfaction
By Armand Cuevas
In Japan, more so than in America, I am reminded that I am not white.
The question of “Where are you from?” in a place as diverse as California was almost always innocuously aimed at your hometown — the place you grew up — instead of being an indirect way of asking about your ethnicity.
When I first moved to the suburbs of Tokyo to be an English teacher, the question became one I answered almost daily. If I interact with somebody new, my country of origin is brought into question.
When I say that I am American, half the time I get the following questions:
“What are your parents?”
“Where are your parents from?”
“Is your father American?”
At first, I struggled to answer these questions, in part because my Japanese is subpar. Now, I am quick at knowing how to answer.
My parents were both born and raised in the Philippines, got married and moved to America, where I was born and raised. All of us have American citizenship and we identify as Filipino Americans.
Japan is one of the most homogenous countries in the world, so I understand why I’m asked that question. I visibly stand out as someone of Filipino descent, and the country has a known history of insularism, so seeing non-Japanese people is a novel experience for many.
I’ve noticed the nuances of vocabulary between the two languages. In English, you simply combine the identifiers, sometimes with a hyphen. However, in Japanese, when I say I am Filipino American, I use the phrase “firipinkei amerikajin,” which can be more directly translated to “American of Filipino descent.” There is a subtle implication that being both Filipino and American is a bit anomalous.
It is hard to deny that I and other Asian Americans living in Japan are often asked the follow-up questions that dig deeper into our ancestry and ethnicity, as if “America” isn’t a satisfactory answer. Meanwhile, our white American colleagues are not asked this question since it’s a given that you’re white and American. The curiosity, intrigue — whatever you want to call it — stops there.
This is part of a series called #ImFrom, where members of the AJ+ community share personal stories about the question, “Where are you from?”
