Critical Pedagogy Fail

I taught my first multiethnic student halfway through my English teaching stint in Japan. The arrival of the cherry blossoms meant a new school year. I was scheduled to teach an intermediate class with two middle school students.

Before I met Yuki and Naomi, my coworker told me one of the girls was mixed Chinese/Japanese. “Just be careful,” she advised, “it’s a sensitive subject for her. We don’t want any teasing.”

I promised to be abnormally vigilant. I was a professional educator, after all, and mixed race. There was no one better for the job. The aspiring social justice warrior in me consciously decided not to ask which of the girls was mixed in order to prevent bias. Ignorance would ensure a safe classroom environment.

From the first minute of the first day of class, I knew Yuki was mixed. My mixed race radar went off and I couldn’t ignore my instincts. Assuming we were alike in our struggle with identity, I went out of my way to chat with Yuki before and after class. Language barriers wouldn’t prevent me from bestowing my sage-like advice. I wanted her to be proud of her mixed heritage. Naomi was cool too.

Yuki and Naomi were both polite and well-behaved, meaning they were exceedingly quiet and never spoke more than required. Over the next several months, I approached questions about identity and family with the utmost care. I asked both girls the same sets of questions so no one felt left out. They were both Japanese and I made sure they knew it.

One evening a few weeks before I moved back to the US, Naomi approached me in the lobby and asked about my family. I told her my father and grandparents were Chinese.

“Oh!” she shouted with a giddy smile, “mine too!”

Oh, shit.

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