#yes the title is cringe but i am cringy and free

[eatprayworm]

it’s a love story baby just say yes // amagai/suzaki in high&low the worst x

after watching the movie multiple times, i feel confident in this conclusion:  high&low the worst x is a love story. it’s a movie all about the power of friendship, the importance of love, and how that love between individuals & groups saves the day. as a series, high&low blurs the line between romance and friendship, and this movie is one of its most blatant examples; whether you want to call it platonic or romantic, in the end, it's love. so i’m here to talk about how the heart of the movie is amagai & suzaki’s love story. let’s get started!

beginning: the sky

the movie begins with a shot of the sky, from the rooftops - which we later learn is the metaphorical top view that amagai and suzaki have sought since childhood. so from the very start, we're presented with their end goal in mind. the movie wants you to know that this is where it all begins, with two boys' desire to see the sky.

“from the moment people are born, it’s all been decided - whether you get to look down on others, or have to look up at others.”

the camera then pans down as amagai shares his black&white philosophy on humans, and it’s pretty standard antagonistic talk. you’re either on top or the bottom, a ruler or a servant, and it’s very clear that he sees himself as the first of these. we then watch amagai and suzaki storm the school, amassing a group of followers from senomon and other schools, leading to the group all standing outside the school. it's a show of power and solidarity.

but when the group starts moving forward, suzaki stays behind, watching amagai and his gang leave. the illusion of a powerful union has been fractured. eventually suzaki is all alone in the courtyard, and he pensively turns his gaze to the sky. 

thus, the film's introduction has set up the major conflict in the film: not between senomon and oya high, but between amagai and suzaki. amagai leads his alliance, but suzaki stays behind - they are not walking together on this journey, at least not emotionally. rather than walking beside amagai, suzaki ponders the sky, the representation of their childhood dream. 

amagai prowls into a violent future, suzaki holds onto their past. the stage is set.

the view

let’s start with amagai and suzaki’s childhood. the two have known each other since they were small boys, and we're shown a scene of suzaki moping after he was bullied. amagai shows up and says he took a bat (lmao) and used it to beat up suzaki’s bullies. he also brings suzaki soda to cheer him up. suzaki vows to one day be strong enough to protect amagai from harm, and together they promise to take in the view from the top together. they're all smiles and laughter, wide-eyed innocence.

this is the foundation of their relationship:  companionship and a shared dream. just two boys against the world because they are friends, and that’s what friends do.

the loyal dog, a torn heart

in the present, their relationship looks very, very different.

gone is the sweet-smiled amagai who dotes on suzaki; gone is the companionship, the understanding that they’re equals. throughout the movie, suzaki acts as amagai’s attack dog instead. all amagai has to do is lift his finger or nod his head, and suzaki immediately acts accordingly without hesitation, doing some pretty awful things in amagai’s name. more than once, amagai yells at suzaki to go do his job, because that’s how he sees suzaki - not as a friend, but just another minion (except not entirely, which we discuss later).  amagai doesn’t smile at him, doesn’t laugh like a friend would. he only acknowledges suzaki’s presence when he has an order for him. suzaki’s expression is always closed off during these moments; he shows neither joy nor disdain at doing his job - and he always, always does his job.

essentially, they have gone from childhood friends to employer/subordinate, or handler/dog. it’s bleak for them.

however, as the opening scene teased, there is a disconnect between amagai and suzaki. we see this in an early scene when amagai promises his minions that they’ll see the top if they stick with him. suzaki turns to give amagai a sideways glance. the muscles in his cheek twitch. his eyes harden. he’s upset.

amagai is promising their childhood dream to people who don’t give a single fuck about amagai as a person; they're only here because suzaki beat them into submission and amagai threw money their way. that dream of seeing the top? that belonged to them. 

suzaki is relegated to bodyguard attack dog while amagai doles out their dream, their childhood love, to others. this is the crux of their conflict. amagai only cares about the victory, not whoever stands by his side and helps make it possible. he’s cast aside their past, their love, while suzaki desperately clings to it.

interestingly, suzaki doesn’t speak up about this. that’s kind of a theme. 

amagai acts with a cold, brutal violence that suzaki clearly dislikes - he sends amagai furtive glaces whenever amagai displays unsavory behavior. for instance, suzaki beat tsukasa in a fair fight, and when tsukasa was already down for the count, amagai starts beating tsukasa with a pipe. amagai then snaps at suzaki to “stop wasting time on this chump”, to which suzaki levels another infamous disapproving side eye to his old friend. that wasn't necessary, his eyes say. stop acting like this.

again, he disagrees with amagai’s methods, and again, he stays silent. he is loyal, oh so loyal, but that does not equate to condoning what amagai does. why doesn’t he speak up? it could be any number of reasons. he doesn’t want to upset amagai. he’s clinging to the person amagai used to be. i talk more about this here. 

love makes him stay. love keeps him quiet. this clearly causes him distress, but suzaki suffers in silence. better to stay quiet than lose amagai. he’s all suzaki wants at the end of the day.

the warped heir, a childhood dream: of limos and schools

in front of the other guys, amagai treats suzaki as nothing more than a pawn. but when he’s alone or only with suzaki, his body language and tone tell a very different story.

first, we find out that surprise, suzaki’s dad is actually amagai’s chaffeur! the limo is important because not only does it represent the power imbalance between suzaki and amagai (discussed later), but it also represents their emotionally distant relationship. suzaki is left on the curb as amagai gets in the limo and suzaki’s dad drives him away, and suzaki watches them go in silence. there is a clear divide here: suzaki is not welcomed in amagai’s private life, his personal space. suzaki is always on the outside, looking in on amagai who continues to shut him out.

inside the privacy of the limo, amagai’s features soften. suzaki’s dad asks amagai if suzaki has been useful to him, homing in on the idea that suzaki is a tool to be used as opposed to a friend. the normally bratty, loud amagai is silent, half-cast in shadow, half in the light. suzaki is not the only one who is rendered into contemplative silence by the reminder of their childhood, their relationship.

we see a flashback of amagai’s first day at senomon. he snaps at suzaki’s dad for making a comment about amagai transferring here, since it’s implied that amagai transferred because of delinquency as opposed to a choice. suzaki’s dad then says that he transferred suzaki to senomon to be with amagai. an important reveal: for better or worse, suzaki's dad has essentially sold his son to please amagai and his family. but IS amagai pleased?

amagai lifts his head, expression softer, uncertain. this news clearly means something to him based on the mixed emotions he shows, but we don't know what.

just like that, the two former best friends see each other face to face for the first time in almost a decade.

amagai keeps his expression closed off, while suzaki looks remarkably lighter than he does in the present. he seems a little uncertain, but there’s a little quirk to his lips, something hopeful. he expects amagai to greet him, to like him just like he used to. surely they’re going to be friends, just like old times. 

but amagai says nothing more and walks into the school. suzaki, as always, follows.

other students remark on how the legendary suzaki is attending their school. amagai glances their way - perhaps he did not know of his old friend’s reputation as the king of his former school. amagai sniffs out an opportunity. it’s already established that he was a troublemaker, hence the school transfers, but now he has the key to staying in power uncontested. again, amagai is focused on the end goal of being on top and in power. he doesn't focus on the human element, the emotional aspect, that it takes for him to get there. humans are to be used, not loved, and he's found the perfect boy to use.

suzaki, on the other hand, doesn’t care about the others gossiping about him. he keeps his eyes on amagai because that’s all he cares about. so when amagai tells suzaki that they’re going to take over the school, suzaki immediately falls in line and agrees. he’s finally reunited with his best friend, the only person here suzaki cares about. of course he is going to say yes. we then see suzaki start to beat people up in the name of amagai. the new status quo has been set.

back in the present, suzaki’s dad says that amagai makes suzaki very happy.  but the thing is, suzaki ISN'T very happy. he's ridiculously loyal and in love, but the way his jaw started twitching when amagai promised their childhood dream to some randos wasn't the gesture of a man who's happy with this scenario. he’s happy to be with amagai, sure, but to say he’s super happy in general is ignorant of suzaki’s emotional turmoil. suzaki can’t be truly happy until amagai accepts his devotion for what it is: love.

like every other comment the dad makes about suzaki, amagai says nothing. he stays quiet, unwilling to make eye contact. here, sealed away in a limo, he is no king. he’s just a boy thinking about his old friend, the one who means more to him than he lets on.

the warped heir, a childhood dream pt. 2: of vulnerabilities and sodas

fujio and tsukasa are set up as the foils of amagai and suzaki. fujio and tsukasa deeply love and respect each other, and their love (and love for their schoolmates) shines through the whole movie. so naturally, once amagai and tsukasa speak, we’re given insight into the amagai+suzaki conflict.

amagai taunts tsukasa for having friends because strong people don’t need those, and tsukasa, bloody and beaten up, just laughs and touches on the biggest nerve he could: a reminder that amagai is someone unloved.

amagai visibly shakes in rage and starts kicking the shit out of tsukasa in return. he’s so angry because he knows tsukasa is right. no one cares about amagai kohei except for the money in his pockets.

of course, that isn’t actually true.

the camera pans to suzaki, sadly staring at the ground as amagai unleashes his cruelty. 

suzaki, who loves amagai.

suzaki, who would rescue amagai in a heartbeat without interest in repayment because that’s what friends do. 

suzaki, who is waiting for amagai to look at him and really see him.

afterwards, suzaki is left alone with a can of soda (the same he and amagai drank as kids) and another memory. in this flashback, he catches amagai bragging to his minions how his dad saved suzaki’s dad from bankruptcy and thus made suzaki’s family indebted to his. a confirmation of what was alluded to earlier in the limo, that there is a power imbalance between their families, one that's trickled down to the sons. he hears amagai calling suzaki his tool since childhood. suzaki is visibly in his feelings about this.

when the minions leave, suzaki reveals himself. it’s just him and amagai now.

the boisterous amagai has settled down, looking softer and calmer now that it’s just him and suzaki. this is intentional; ryoki aka amagai’s actor has stated that because suzaki is different, that he’s special to amagai, that amagai is a little different around him. suzaki cracks the mask of smug confidence that amagai wears, revealing the boy within.

suzaki gives amagai a soda, the same from their childhood, the same he’s reflecting on in the present. it is implied that amagai gave suzaki money for the drinks, and he tells suzaki to keep the change - because he thinks suzaki cares about the money, like he was somehow doing suzaki a kindness by telling him to keep the rest. when instead, the soda is the real gift. it represents their childhood, when amagai beat up suzaki's bullies and then bought snacks for him to cheer him up. the soda aka their bond is what matters, not the money. but amagai refuses to see that.

and then, something amazing happens. for the first time this movie, suzaki confronts amagai. he seizes the moment to question amagai’s declaration that he’s only a pawn. surely that can’t be right? yes, amagai orders him around, but they’re still friends at the end of the day, right?

amagai immediately turns away and doesn’t look at suzaki. it’s the same reaction he had when suzaki’s dad brings up amagai’s relationship with suzaki - he cannot confront this vulnerability face-on.  suzaki makes him too honest, too human.

without looking at suzaki, amagai recites that everyone who works for him just wants his money, including suzaki. it doesn't sound like an original thought; it sounds like he’s reading off a script. someone taught him, either directly or by experience, that this is the way of the world. he's a walking cash register. it's all he has to offer.

suzaki disagrees. amagai briefly looks at suzaki again when suzaki protests and snaps that he can't trust friends. and then amagai looks away from suzaki, sighs, and softly says that all he needs is tools. it's like he has to remind himself of this mantra because suzaki's mere presence is a threat to this conviction. the part of him that’s still that little boy with a baseball bat and a soda can wants to believe suzaki, wants to reach out and take the hand that suzaki is extending. but he can’t; he won’t. because to do so would be weakness, and he cannot afford to be weak and to put trust in someone else.

the part of him that’s damaged from past experiences doesn’t allow him to believe that suzaki is being genuine to him. whatever happened to amagai to make him this cruel, violent, untrusting being remains in power, at least for now.

suzaki’s love is rejected. and so, the conflict continues.

childhood rediscovered

the denouement of their conflict begins with suzaki reflecting on the soda once again. the big war between the schools has begun downstairs. amagai storms in, barking orders as usual, and suzaki places the soda can down with a loud thunk. the childhood dream is set aside. back to their new reality. amagai flexes his power by demanding that suzaki does his job - as if that was even a question. suzaki can and will do just about anything for amagai.

yet, suzaki hesitates in that moment. not because he's considering disobeying amagai, but because he's so frustrated that amagai would need to say that in the first place. when has he ever not done his job? why can't amagai see that suzaki loves him? he's hurting in silence once more. but he's a good dog and after a moment of painful seething, he does what he's told: beat people in amagai's name.

and suzaki does. he fights, and fights, and fights. not for senomon, not for himself, but for amagai. this is how he loves - through endless devotion. meanwhile, amagai stays on the second floor of the gym, safe and up high. he remarks how those fighting below are idiots, once again showing that he thinks he’s above them - and he literally is, in this case. there are only two kinds of humans, after all, and amagai is the kind that’s above the rest.

until he isn’t.

then amagai and tsukasa, who started brawling, fall from the second floor onto the first. suddenly, amagai is no longer on top, the ruling class. now he’s in the danger zone, at the same level as everyone else. so what does he do? 

he screams for suzaki, who comes when called.

oya, housen, and suzuran take over the gym, crushing amagai’s alliance. once the allied schools see they’re not going to win this battle, they leave. amagai screams at them, demanding they do their job, as he has done many times before with suzaki. but these men are not suzaki. they have no loyalty to amagai beyond his wallet. they fought, they got money - no point in sticking around when they’re obviously going to lose. 

but there’s one person who does, and always has, cared about amagai. the one who will never leave his side. and so suzaki literally limps over, placing himself bodily between amagai and the other gangs. he defiantly lifts his chin, dares them to try it. they have to go through him if they want amagai. 

as long as suzaki draws breath, he will always stay with amagai.

fujio and suzaki fight one on one to determine the victor in the big school brawl, with all the other gangs watching. none are watching quite as closely, however, as amagai. as a bloody and bruised suzaki fights fujio to the point that he literally crawls to him to keep the fight going, amagai watches in a state of devastated disbelief. it’s the most emotion he’s shown this whole movie; the mask has completely shattered at the sight of suzaki's devotion. at one point, he murmurs suzaki’s name with a kind of shocked reverence. gone is the tool he ordered around like a master bringing his dog to heel; all that's left is the childhood friend that amagai tried so hard to keep at arm's length.

the fight and shots of an emotional amagai are interspersed with flashbacks to the childhood scene I described at the start. amagai reflects on when he beat up suzaki's bullies, because that's what friends do, and how he promised him that they'd reach the top together. suzaki swore as a child that he'd grow stronger to protect amagai, and sure enough, he has.

amagai is watching suzaki fulfill his childhood promise, even at great cost to himself. suzaki's love is a selfless one.

an emotional song with English lyrics like "stand by you" is playing in the background of this fight, just in case we didn't pick up that this is a romantic moment where the antagonist realizes that he's been loved this entire time. to further drive in that point, we get a scene of tsukasa (suzaki's foil) commenting on the nature of amagai and suzaki's relationship. he verbalizes what we've known all along, and what amagai is just now realizing: that suzaki values amagai deeply and above all else. 

“man... why is suzaki fighting for that jerk?” “to suzaki... he’s more than that.”

that’s why he bleeds. that’s why he breathes. not because amagai is his leader. but because amagai is his love.

humanity 

when suzaki loses, amagai falls back into a familiar coping mechanism: anger and violence. but this time, he takes it a step further. he rushes forward with a knife, intending to stab fujio in the gut. amagai has done some pretty deplorable things before, but nothing as severe and permanent as a homicide attempt. he's barreling down a dark road, one he might not be able to come back from if he succeeds.

but he fails.

suzaki grabs the knife by the blade, saving fujio, and saving amagai from himself.

amagai is horrified. he never wanted to hurt suzaki. but hurt him he has. suzaki has taken amagai's verbal abuse, he's suffered in silence when amagai made poor choices, and here too he takes the physical brunt of amagai's violence. 

he stops amagai from becoming the worst version of himself; he is, and always has been, amagai's tether to humanity.

“what is your problem? you know you shouldn’t use that kind of thing!”

for the second time this movie, suzaki confronts amagai. on his knees with blood dripping from his hand, he finally speaks against amagai’s behavior. for all that he has taken amagai’s violence in stride, there are some lines that simply cannot be crossed. for suzaki, that is murder - a complete loss of humanity. he will not allow his friend to do that.

he clings to amagai's shirt and says that he's always stayed with amagai because of their dream together. it's essentially a love confession: I'm here because I love you. amagai is silent, looking down at his old friend at shock. when amagai says nothing and remains standing above him, suzaki mournfully remarks that amagai has forgotten their childhood, hasn't he? 

but amagai hasn't forgotten. throughout the movie we see him reflecting on their past and relationship. he remembers, but he never allowed himself to feel it. only now, when faced with a battered suzaki who risked his life to protect amagai, not out of duty but out love, does he allow himself to feel and accept the love that they’ve had since childhood.

amagai’s decision to accept suzaki’s love is not an act of weakness, as he proclaimed earlier, but of humanity. to love is to be human, after all. suzaki saved amagai's humanity by stopping the knife, and he restores it again by loving him unconditionally. suzaki's love is redemptive, strengthening.

and now that amagai truly sees suzaki's love, amagai's whole world has tilted on its axis. he views the sky, his goal, in a different light. at the start of the movie, he believed that the humans on top would reach the sky and look down on the rest of the population. but now he realizes that humans aren't so hierarchal; everyone is beneath the same sky, after all. the toxic mentality he held about humans at the start has been broken by, you guessed it, suzaki's love. 

fujio makes a comment about how senomon may have lost today, but that doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things because senomon has friends who fight for each other. cue suzaki slowly turning to look up at amagai, a silent question. 

as amagai grapples with this discovery, suzaki throws all caution to the wind and asks a question that might as well be a public marriage proposal. this is what the movie has been leading up to this whole time: not a fight between schools, but the rekindling of a friendship. 

suzaki has fulfilled his childhood promise to stay by amagai and grow strong enough to protect him. it’s now amagai’s turn to fulfill his childhood promise to stay with suzaki and see the top with him.

“hey... let’s start over again. will you be my friend? ko-chan?”

it's a love story, amagai, just say yes!!! but because they still have an audience, amagai struggles with being vulnerable, so he makes a dismissive comment in response. suzaki is visibly shattered. but amagai takes a page out of fujio's book (foils!) and drops the tsundere act long enough to crouch down to suzaki's level. he no longer positions himself above suzaki, but meets him at his level, as equals, and declares that he and ryo are in this together. amagai no longer views the desire to get to the top through a narrow lens. he brings suzaki back into the fold; he calls him by his first name, intimate and sweet. he accepts his love and loves him back.

suzaki is stunned and crying, finally hearing the words he's wanted to hear all this time. i'm here, i love you. even when amagai scolds him for crying, he's not actually angry, and he even wipes away his tears for him. after all, amagai spent the entire fight on the verge of tears himself.

the broken friendship has been repaired, and the conflict has been resolved. love saves the day once again.

i like the view right now

their story ends by circling back to the beginning: the infamous sky. everyone else has left the gym except for amagai and suzaki. amagai grouses that they can't even see the sky from here. suzaki doesn't seem bothered by this, though. after all, he's together with amagai, and that's what's most important. he tells amagai as much by once again asking him if they can start over as friends. amagai turns to look at suzaki, and while he doesn't reply with words, he breaks into a grin and starts laughing - the first time he's smiled for real in the film. his joy is contagious, and suzaki grins and laughs too.

“you and i... let’s start over again.” 

they can't see the sky, but that's alright. for the first time since childhood, they're finally seeing each other.

at the very end, the last barrier in their relationship comes down. amagai enters the limo and suzaki stands by, as always. but this time, amagai beckons suzaki to join him with a smile. amagai has finally allowed suzaki into his private life, his physical and emotional space, and not as a tool, but as his beloved friend.

perhaps their story will continue in another movie, or perhaps not. either way, their future is hopeful. everything may not be suddenly sunshine and roses right away, as they have a lot to work through, but high&low characters forgive easily and relationships gradually heal. i think they'll be alright. they have love on their side, after all.

[withloveishi]

Why Oriental-Flavored Top Ramen Scares Me (A Japanese-American’s View of Weebs)

Right out of the gate, this is no hit piece on weebs. I’m not trying to bully or belittle any particular person. This post (like all of my posts) is not intended to elicit pity or put weebs in their place. In fact, at the end of it all, I sort of admire weebs for embracing a lifestyle that gets frequently bullied and made fun of. As cringe as they are, most of them are normal people that have an obsession with something, just like all of us. This is (not) simply my view on the effect weeb culture has had on me (a culturally confused kid) throughout my life.

As an explanation for the title, I call anyone who does not ethnically identify with that ethnicity, but is obsessed with the culture of that ethnicity “Oriental Flavored Top Ramen”. Sounds extremely Asian, looks sorta off, and at the end of the day, tastes like some wet noodles in lukewarm yellow salt water. I wanted to find a sort of umbrella term for this group of people that wasn’t so specific to just Japanese culture, that could be applied to any other culture, but I don't know how much I succeeded.

I guess this post has been a long time coming. I’ve always expressed an odd opinion (let’s go with that) towards the the weeb community. And most of the time, it’s not that I’m disgusted, or don’t think they should exist. It’s that I feel threatened.

Now you must be asking yourself, what about weebs are threatening? Really at the end of it all, it’s just slightly cringe people who enjoy Japanese culture a lot. But that’s exactly my problem: they enjoy Japanese culture… more than me… an actual Japanese person.

Before anyone tries to reassure me that I will always be Japanese because that’s my blood or whatever, just hear me out. My ethnicity and culture have always been a bumpy road for me, either keeping them at arm's length or embracing it so hard people start thinking I’m a weeb. And as much as I want to end this post on some sort of morally fulfilling note, I can’t do that. I don't even have my own shit figured out. But I will do my best to explain my perspective and show what I’ve done to become this fucked up (because that’s not apparently clear to people already).

So where were we. Oh yeah, why weebs scare me. All of my cultural and ethnic insecurity sort of roots from the beginning. I was never brought up on a really solid Japanese basis. My mom (who’s Filipino) and dad both spoke english to me, we grew up in the middle of a predominantly white and affluent community, and never really bothered to learn Japanese from anyone in my family to the point where I could carry a fluent conversation. According to some of my friends, I grew up being a white-washed asian. However, growing up, I didn’t understand that one could be more or less Asian than another Asian person. It was a simpler time. On the more cultural side, I never watched anime or listed to J-Pop in my free time. I grew up watching things like Spongebob and listened to Avril Lavigne (because yes, I was that white washed). Being in elementary school, no one gave a shit, so naturally, I didn’t give a shit. No one ever called me out on my Asianess. I was never the token Asian who suddenly became the encyclopedia for all things Japanese, or was the translator for that one Japanese line that popped up on a stolen stock image by the teacher (yes all these things happened). I could just be that asshole in the room who flipped her hot pencils paper over really loudly to let everyone know that she was done (even though literally no one asked). I didn’t really start feeling really shit about my cultural identity until high school.

Unfortunately, my high school experience consisted of a slew of white people trying to one up me in my Japaneseness (is this a word?). It started with my freshman year world history teacher asking me what kind of tigers were the most predominant in Japan in the 20’s, then telling me that my ancestors did the rape of Nanking, followed by a race presentation by two white students about how to handle confrontations about race properly, most epically concluded by my junior year U.S. history teacher who tried to teach Japanese to me, school me on the basic principles of Shinto religion, and made a race joke about Japanese internment. Yes, all these things happened. And if you think I’m just pointing out small jokes my teachers were trying to make, let me be frank: I’m not.

While these instances of race in classroom did shake me up a little, nothing ever proved to me that any of these people were more Japanese than me. Therefore, I shrugged them off as what I call “assholes”. However, as these incidents began occurring more frequently, there was also an emergence of a group I had never noticed before. They called themselves “weebs”.

NOTE: It sorta sounds like I’m taking about “weebs” as a population of observational Japanese snow monkeys, but I just don't want to refer to one person, because everyone made me feel a different way.

At first, I was just like “Ah, it’s a little cringy but otherwise, pretty harmless”. I didn’t mind hanging around them or talking to them. But as I got to know more and more weebs, I started to really feel uncomfortable. At first, I just thought it was the overwhelming amounts of cringe hitting me at a high velocity, but overtime, it became more than just uncomfortable.

Remember when I was talking about how the Japanese culture was never really enforced on me as a child? How I grew up a “white-washed asian”? Well, weebs were like the complete opposite. They weren’t born into this culture, but were for some reason obsessed with the Japanese culture. It was like they wanted to be more Japanese than me. They weren’t born into a culture where anime and Jpop were the gravitational leisure activities, yet they still embraced it like I was expected to. I began to feel threatened by them culturally. Every rational neuron in my brain was slowly discrediting me a real Japanese American. My reasoning for this went something like, “They probably know more about Japanese culture than me, speak and write more Japanese than me, and want to know more than I do”. And the more and more I thought about this, the more it made sense to me. I mean if we really think about it, I look (pretty) Japanese, but now barely speak the language and hate watching most anime and reading manga. A weeb, on the other hand, looks nothing like a Japanese person, yet, is dying to learn Japanese fluently, wants to live in Japan, and probably has watched every episode of Naruto and Jojo. This thought freaked me out, but essentially left me feeling two ways:

Angry because of all the bullshit I had endured throughout high school from teachers because I looked Japanese. Weebs, even though more knowledgeable than me on everything Japanese, were never asked what fucking tigers existed in Japan in the 20’s, were never taught how to speak improper Japanese from a gross white man; basically never had to endure the stupid bullshit racism I endured my entire entire high school career and be embarrassed in front of the class, all because they never looked Japanese. There was always this joking expectation, especially in high school, that because I was Japanese, I had to out-Japanese anyone else. For example, if someone had watched the latest episode of Naruto I had to have already watched it. While it sounds ridiculous in retrospect, living and experiencing it felt quite different.  

On the other hand, confused, because I now had no stake over my own identity.  Could I even call myself Japanese American, even though it was only my skin that really was the only thing Japanese about me. With a lot of my American-born Chinese (ABC) or Korean-American friends, they grew up speaking their parents language, becoming fluent in it, as well as celebrating all the traditional holidays their parents celebrated back home. They were the ones that called me white-washed.

It was truly an unnerving time in my life, and I’m still sort of living in it. I’m not really quite sure where I fit in. Yes, I call myself Japanese-American (hence, the title of this blog post), purely on the basis of my heritage, and my skin. However, all the filler information that we use to really validate someone as a “real Asian” is still up for debate in my mind. Even in college, there’s still this dissatisfaction with how much I haven’t embraced my Japanese cultural identity. After living with this expectation over my head, I don’t know how to break out of it fully. Whenever people confront me about my cultural identity in college, I become insecure and defensive, because I’m too scared to confront it in front of people with expectations of who I am. I don’t think I’ll ever come to terms with my ethnicity. I’ll always be in this constant push and pull with myself over what really validates me a Japanese-American. If I learned to speak the language confidently, or watched more anime, would that make me more closely Japanese, or would that be a pathetic attempt to prove my worth as a person of Japanese culture. Where does the “You must be this Asian to enter” line exist on the spectrum of race? Is there even one?

I guess all I need to do is become good at math, learn Japanese fluently, pass the level 1 Kanji test, live in Japan, and force myself to watch every episode of Naruto and Jojo. Because once I do, it’s over for you weebs.