Hiro Fujita: Third Culture Kid

By the time he graduated from college, Hiro Fujita had attended nine different schools and lived in Denmark, Japan, Bangladesh, Canada, and the US. Through his global upbringing, he’s experienced what it’s like to be in the majority in a homogenous environment, as well as what it’s like to be in the minority. I spoke with Hiro about how his environment impacted the evolution of his Japanese identity, how he views the concept of “home”, and what he’s learned from living in different parts of the world. 

Photo courtesy of Hiro Fujita

Photo courtesy of Hiro Fujita

Rebecca: Can you start by orienting me to the different places you lived while growing up? 

Hiro: My dad was an ambassador for Japan’s government, so I’ve moved around a lot. Sometimes we only received a couple of weeks of advance notice and our lives would change overnight. I was born in Copenhagen, Denmark, and when I was four, we moved to Tokyo. 

After that, my family was going to move to either Nepal or Bangladesh. At one point, we were 90% certain that we would be moving to Nepal. We prepared to move there, and my parents bought tourist books about Nepal, but at the last minute, everything changed. A month later, we were on a plane to Bangladesh.

We were there for about four years, and then in fifth grade, I was told we were moving to Vancouver. I was fascinated because a lot of the media I saw while growing up had been centered around North America. I had always wondered what it would be like to live there.

I lived in Vancouver for three years, and I loved it. When I was in eighth grade, we moved to Anchorage, Alaska. That was one of the most impactful periods of my life, and my family spent about four years there. In my senior year of high school, my parents decided to move back to Japan, but I stayed in Alaska.  I lived with host parents for my senior year.

Rebecca: When you were in Japan, did you feel like your family was more Westernized or traditional? 

Hiro: My mom was born in Japan and lived there until middle school, but she actually attended high school and college in the US. I’ve noticed she generally has more liberal perspectives compared to my more conservative dad. 

Because I didn’t spend too much time in Japan, I didn’t have a chance to learn all of the formalities. Now, when I go back to Japan, my Japanese reflects almost a direct translation from English. I’m still trying to understand the nuances and formality of the language, because I’m so comfortable with how casually people in North America speak with one another. When I speak Japanese, people realize that I’m not from Japan, and the way I speak and present myself can come off as rude.

My parents’ stance on education was different from that of traditional Japanese families. My cousins had to go to cram school on the weekends and after school, where they had more intense studying sessions. While my family did value and prioritize education, I got away with going to Kumon, which was a lot easier than cram school.

My international school in Japan tried to replicate the curriculum taught at US schools. My parents would also talk with other parents to see what their kids were up to. Other parents would encourage their kids to be well-rounded and play sports, for example, so my parents encouraged the same for me. 

Rebecca: After leaving Japan, were your parents able to preserve Japanese traditions and language in your household? 

Hiro: For the first couple years, we did a good job of meeting other Japanese people and celebrating holidays with them. There was a Japanese school that people went to and a really small Japanese community, but I never attended the school. As the years went by, we strayed further and further away from the Japanese community and traditions. We wouldn’t always celebrate Japanese New Year and my Japanese started getting worse, while my English got better. I started to speak with my mom and sister in English, but I always spoke Japanese with my dad.

These days, my family is split across three countries, and it has gotten more and more difficult to keep these traditions alive within my family. However, it is always a fun time when I do get the chance to visit my family in Japan (usually once a year). Each time I go back, I become more fascinated with Japanese culture.

Rebecca: How did your experiences in North American compare to your experiences living in Asia? 

Hiro: In Vancouver, there were opportunities to meet other Japanese people. But when I moved to Anchorage, there was very little diversity. That's when I started to understand what it means to be a minority. I had previously only gone to private schools and international schools, but in Anchorage, my high school had people from all walks of life. Some people were really wealthy, and then some people lived in trailer parks with parents who were facing drug abuse.

I heard racial slurs daily, and they weren’t directed just toward Asians. As a minority, you generally faced racism. Seeing it happen to people every day, I started to be more aware of what it means to be a minority in America and not to take things too personally. Violence at this school was quite intense, with frequent fights and some students even bringing weapons to school. As a spectator, this experience exposed me to life’s realities and is something that I truly value because it allowed me to meet people that were very different from me. It opened my eyes to the struggles that people face based on their socioeconomic backgrounds and how that manifests in their behavior.

Rebecca: After your senior year of high school, you started having more choice about where you would live. With this new agency, how did you decide where you wanted to go to college?

Hiro: When I was growing up, my parents had traditional Asian values and wanted me to get good grades, go to a good school, etc. but they didn’t enforce them as much. When I started putting together my list of colleges to apply for, my parents had certain expectations, some of which were set by their parents. My grandfather had been an economics professor at UCLA, my mom had gone to Princeton, and my sister went to Columbia and is at Harvard now. There was an expectation for me to go down that route. 

I didn’t know what degree I wanted, but I was good at math and thought engineering would be a good fit. I applied to engineering programs all over the country in the US, and ended up deciding between UCSD, NYU, and Cal Poly San Luis Obispo. I chose Cal Poly, because I wanted to experience living in a small college town. When I told my parents, they were shocked and slightly angry with my decision. They wanted me to go to UCSD for the brand name and they looked down on Cal Poly, because they had never heard of it. Despite their reaction, going to Cal Poly felt right and I am really glad I did it.  

College was tough and a period of self-discovery. For example, I almost dropped out of my engineering program, because I realized I wasn’t passionate about it. When I told my parents, they immediately recommended that I follow my dad's career path. I had no interest in this, and fortunately, things have progressed quite well since graduating.

Rebecca: Was diversity a factor in your college choice? 

Hiro: I had assumed that because my school was in California, it would be diverse. I never realized how secluded the town was until I got there. That first year was tough and I thought a lot about transferring to a different school in a larger city.

As each year went by, things started to feel a bit more manageable as I developed a closer group of friends. Priorities also start to shift as you get closer to graduating, with a bigger focus on internships, jobs, etc. Looking back, I am glad that I went to Cal Poly, because of the people I met and the memories I made.

Rebecca: How has the way you feel about your Asian identity changed based on where you’re living? 

Hiro: When I was in Japan and Bangladesh, I was really proud to be Japanese. My school in Bangladesh was probably the most diverse school I've been to, because it was an international school. I'm still really good friends with some of my elementary school friends there, because we have similar upbringings. My school made sure we were always representing our country. There were events such as International Day, where we would dress up and represent our cultures. 

Vancouver has a lot of Asians and my school was ~70% Asians, so I never questioned my identity there. It wasn't until I moved to Alaska where I understood what it’s like to be a minority. This sense of awareness developed further when I moved to San Luis Obispo for college. When I first enrolled, it was ~90% Caucasian. It was almost a buildup of that experience in Alaska, because there's an obvious disparity between different groups. People would segregate by race because they were more comfortable that way. I realized that a lot of racism stems from a lack of exposure and awareness. 

Rebecca: How has living in San Francisco and Toronto changed the way you view your Asian identity? 

Hiro: After I graduated college, I stopped caring as much about what people think and it also seems like everyone matures a bit in their 20s. San Francisco and Toronto are multicultural and diverse cities, which helped me recognize the privilege we have to be Asian. The great thing about large cities is that they have opportunities to celebrate cultural events where Asians and non-Asians get together. 

Rebecca: When you were a kid, how did you feel about moving around so much? 

Hiro: When people hear about my childhood, they get the impression that it was glamorous and that life was amazing. But from first grade to university, I attended nine schools and it’s difficult always being the new kid. It never gets easier, because you're always trying to fit in and meet new people. Fortunately, I was able to make good friends in each of the places I lived. As a kid, I was pretty angry about moving so much and I was jealous of my friends who could stay in one place. I feel like I missed out on having this sense of home. However, this has taught me to be resilient and flexible during times of change, something that has helped me significantly throughout my career. 

I told myself that after I graduated, I’d be done traveling and I would stay in one place. All throughout college, I was really set on that, but interestingly enough I’ve started to shift my mindset. I’ve developed a strong desire to continue exploring as much as I can. A huge part of this is because of the limitations we’ve experienced throughout the pandemic.

These days, I’m in control of where I go, whereas when I was younger, I had no choice. I don’t know where I’ll be in the next five or even the next two years, but I do have a bucket list of certain cities that I want to live and work in.

Rebecca: Is there any place you consider “home”? 

Hiro: I’ve realized that I might not ever have that feeling of “home” or have a central point where I can go and feel like I belong or am the most comfortable. Because I moved around so much, I've had to adapt every couple of years, and right now home is wherever I'm currently at. It's probably going to continue to be like that until I retire, wherever that may be. I might always struggle with figuring out where I truly identify myself with, but that’s okay.

Rebecca: What are some lessons you’ve learned from living in so many different places? 

Hiro: I’ve realized how small the world really is. When I was living in Japan, I was friends with a boy named Eugene. After I moved to Vancouver, I was running track and there was a track meet with 300-400 people participating. I made eye contact with someone from a rival school who was in my heat, and it turned out to be Eugene! 

Another time I was flying out of Narita Airport in Japan during college. My family took me to the airport and we looked for a place to have lunch. There are probably ~150 restaurants all scattered around the airport. We randomly picked a place and as we sat down, I looked next to me, and my friend from Cal Poly was sitting next to us!

On a more serious note, living in Bangladesh has made me grateful for things that I would’ve otherwise taken for granted, such as safety. I’m so thankful that I can go outside on a walk or to a park because that’s something that a lot of people in Bangladesh can’t do. When I was there, terrorism wasn’t too prominent, but about 10 years after I left, ISIS starting expanding there. About four years ago, one of my close friends (who is Bengali) was back at his parents’ house in Bangladesh on winter break from Emory. One night he went to dinner with a friend, and unfortunately, there was a terrorist attack at the restaurant. Everyone there was murdered. 

That was probably one of the most significant events in my life. We hear about terrorism in the news and even if we don’t hear about it as much now, it’s still very relevant. Sometimes it's just a matter of where you are and being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Events like that make me realize that there's a lot that we should be grateful for and not take for granted. 

Lastly, I realize how lucky I am to have had the experience of seeing so much of the world starting from a young age. I encourage everyone to see more of the world, as it helps us better understand different perspectives. Visit places because you’re personally interested in them - not just because society, friends, or social media tell you to visit them. I promise that your perspective will evolve in incredible ways by seeing and experiencing the world in non-traditional manners. 

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