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by Ai Maples
Two geisha performing in Gion. |
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The True Confessions of a repentant former racist Japanese housewife
From my early childhood right on until I graduated from the
university, I have lived in a family dominated by racism. But
the more I began socializing with non-family members and their
friends, listened to their views and witnessed their fraternizing
with people of other races, I began struggling with my
conscience. Gradually I began to realize that racism and
discrimination against people needing jobs and housing merely
because of their skin color and nationality was morally and
ethically wrong.
But to get this albatross off my chest, I just didn't know
where to go and to whom I could turn to. Then I found the answer
on the editorial pages of BLACKS N'ASIA Magazine. It gave me an
opportunity to unload my burden by feeling encouraged to write
this article about the evils of racism practiced by mine and many
other Japanese families. They discriminate against people of
African descent merely because of their skin color although these
people have done no harm to them. They have also failed to speak
to, befriend, socialize with or understand them.
I've deeply reflected on my past unprovoked racist
transgressions. I adamantly feel that many of us Japanese women
need to see ourselves minus the skin whitening lotions for what
we really are -nonwhites. A litany of our sins are that most of
us are unsophisticated, gossipy, bitchy bubbleheads who are
aggressive and combative racists. And definitely a total
disgrace to motherhood when we ignore the negative message given
to our young children by the media. Their skin color is not the
problem! We need absolution.
Because of us many of our pampered daughters in particular
are immature, lazy at school and can't hold down a job or their
tongues in public. They show very little human concern for
others.
In my innocent childhood and not knowing any better, I
ignored all the negative images that were presented to me through
various materials. I even loved my little Dokochan doll (a doll
representing a black child, called Winkie in the U.S., which
became very popular in Japan in 1960). I thought it was the
cutest little thing with its big lips, wide eyes, and grass
skirt.
The missionary in my area taught us some strange things
about Blacks then. White English teachers were horrible too.
They taught us that it was proper to discriminate against Blacks.
The white military officers told my father that Blacks were
monkeys in uniform. Now I hate having been part of those things.
Can you imagine that many Japanese women willingly pay 5,000
or 10,000 yen for 3 months supply of skin whitening lotion and
continue to do so? And the only change is to their vanity.
I used to be a part of the hypocritically smiling, tooth-
picking kimono-clad and western clothe-wearing housewives who
chain-smoked and blew smoke into their children's faces. I had
so little self-esteem that I discriminated against anyone who was
different from myself. Blacks, in my eyes, were as different as
could be.
Gradually, I had conversations with many people. I felt
deep down inside of me that I have been sinning against God and
against Black people. I wondered how I could make amends. I'd
crawl on my hands and knees to the very first African-American
man in sight and kiss his feet if I thought it could cleanse my
soul because of the discomfort I've caused others. I wouldn't
care even if he was fat, ugly and greasy-looking. I'd even
willing attend a course in respect and racial awareness which I
read about in this magazine. I was told that all of us Japanese
must accept the fact that Africans invaded Japan 60,000 years
ago and that through inter-mixing with our ancestors, strains of
African blood flows through some of our veins and we take on some
of their physical characteristics because we are part of the
African race.
After all, Africa is the cradle of all humanity.
Futhermore, if only we could get a peek into many of the imperial
burial mounds scattered thoughout our country, we'd discover that
they contain African, Chinese and Korean artifacts which prove
from where our history and culture come from. Why hide the
truth?
Since I'm confessing, I must admit that I'm no angel and for
a long time have wished for someone more exotic than my
philandering no good husband. I've sought greener pastures. And
as a result I've tasted yellow sugar, white sugar, and brown
sugar. And I've discovered brown sugar to be the sweetest sugar
of all.
Once I began associating with African-Americans at social
functions, I discovered how kind, gentle and caring they were to
me. I saw how considerate they can be. I also realized that
they are not lazy as whites and the Japanese media have falsely
claimed them to be. I've met many talented and capable
administrators, doctors, teachers and men in various high power
positions. I don't picture them as mostly entertainers or
sportsmen anymore. My eyes have been opened wider than they have
ever been. This is why I consider myself to be a repentant
former racist Japanese housewife. We females in particular need
a sense of perpetual atonement to reflect on the outrageous
inhuman racist behavior we perpetuated against people who have
never harbored ill-will against us.
African-Americans are a part of us. They are our true
friends and I say this from the many happy experiences I've
encountered through my new brown sugar husband who's taught me a
new way of life. We are closer than two lips. He always
brightens my horizon and teaches me the true meaning and joys of
life which I've never known before I met him. My only regret is
that I never tasted 'brown sugar' sooner, but now life can't be
any sweeter.
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