Monthly Archives: June 2013

From Ashes to Rage

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Jaya Yadav
LADY SHRI RAM COLLEGE FOR WOMEN, NEW DELHI, INDIA

The flames soar
Ashes float into space
Hear the oceans roar
This is love’s rage

It’s deep, it’s brutal
It’s tsunamic, suicidal

The sun blazes red
The sky turns blue
The anger burns the dead
As I don’t say I love you

So I sit and write
You sit and wait
Till the sun’s out of sight
I say your name into hollow space

We’re separated by a twist of fate
I can’t even say it’s too late

This too shall pass
Like the star that shines before it burns
My love will last
Far beyond the pages as you turn

So we part like the red sea without a staff
No goodbyes were needed, we’ve come too far

I can’t turn around for one last gaze
Love just turned out to be maze

I can’t turn around for one last look
It shows me the path you took

I won’t wait for someone who would never return
And my last wish is only for you to learn

It’s painful, painless
In faith I confess
As the universe conspires
Against all my desires

I wouldn’t step onto a pyre1
My love isn’t for hire

So I guess this is where I bid adieu
Without saying I might’ve never loved you.

1 Refers to the ancient Hindu practice of sati, where a widowed Hindu woman would immolate herself on her husband’s pyre. It has been outlawed since 1829.

At the Junctures

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Yumi Shimizu
OCHANOMIZU UNIVERSITY, TOKYO, JAPAN

Although Iwaki city is a small town, Iwaki City Library is a clean and modern facility. Numerous fascinating books fill two floors of the commercial building in front of Iwaki Station. When I was a high school student, I usually went to the city library twice a month to read novels. I really loved reading, and any novel would make me happy. One day, however, I found myself standing in front of the bookshelves for law books. I skimmed several puzzling books for minutes and finally found the book that I was looking for. I wanted to learn how to legally change my family name.

When I was a high school student, I thought justice and fairness were the most important things for humans. I thought that human beings can be the strongest when they are clean and just. While seeking the way to be a righteous human being, I thought that all I needed to do was show myself truthfully. As soon as I got this idea, I went to the city library because I decided that I needed to know how to get back my real name.

My parents arrived in Japan more than 20 years ago from their home country, South Korea. They came to Japan to get a better life. My father studied hard in Kyoto University graduate school, and my mother supported him. They were poor, but they had extreme youthful enthusiasm. Later on, my father got a job in a Japanese company and they started living in Japan permanently. When my sister entered preschool, my parents changed our family name, and we became naturalized Japanese citizens in 2001.

By having a normal Japanese name and Japanese nationality, I did not feel any different from the other children. On my first day of preschool, my mother, looking at me meanfully told me to be proud of being a Korean. At preschool, I was a normal kid. I enjoyed playing with the other kids every day. At that time, I understood neither the meaning nor the reason for her words.

At that time, being a Korean became a greater advantage than a disadvantage for me. I was a “special international person” in the small countryside town of Iwaki. I got several prizes when I wrote essays about my unique experiences as a Korean living in Japan. But sometimes classmates or neighbors laughed and taunted me saying, “Koreans eat bugs” or “Koreans smell bad because they eat kimchee.” At the same time, some Korean kids in Korea hated me because I was from Japan.

However, these adverse circumstances helped me become all the more special. Since I ate neither bugs nor kimchee, these words did not humiliate me at all. I was even as proud of myself as Sara Crewe was in A Little Princess by undergoing a “great” hardship. Having this unique advantage, I gradually became an outstanding student. I always got good grades at school, I played the piano in the music festival, I sang in the school chorus, I swam as a representative student, and I continuously got prizes for essays and drawing. Then I became superior not only because of my background, but also because of my achievements.

After I entered high school, searching the way to get back my real family name became my challenge as Sara Crewe. I believed it was another hardship that I had to overcome. I read several law-related books and found out that changing a family name is not a simple thing. It is a complicated process to accomplish and so I soon gave up. The important thing was, I thought, being special by taking some action that normal high school students in Japan would not do. However, at that time, I did not realize that I was the frog in the well that does not know the ocean.

Eventually I forgot about changing my name. I studied as hard as the other students, because the time for university entrance examination came. I wanted to be a lawyer and so I prepared to enter a law university. However, entering any law department in Japan is not easy. To be honest, my grades were not high enough to enter a public school’s law department. At that point, my high school homeroom teacher suggested that I submit an essay for an Admissions Office (AO) entrance examination. Since everyone is able to challenge the AO entrance examination, there was a possibility even for me. I jumped to get the chance and started writing the application form. At first, I just wrote about my passion to be a lawyer. However, the teacher who checked my application suggested that I write about my background instead. He said that such a unique background could be a big advantage for me. Since I knew this very well from my past experiences, I rewrote my application. Again, I wrote about how I overcame my hardship of being a Korean living in Japan. I also wrote about how strongly I want to help Korean people living in Japan by becoming a lawyer. The essay looked great to me.

After submitting my application for the AO test, I began to prepare for the interview which comes after the paper examinations. I needed to know more about Koreans and Japanese to answer the examiners’ possible questions about my motives. I started researching about law cases related to Koreans in Japan on the Internet. I surfed several sites, and I found some words. The more I surfed, the more I found. I could not believe my own eyes, and I felt like I sank into a bottomless swamp of hatred. There were a lot of words from Japanese people toward Koreans that I had never heard before. It seems they hate, despise, and loathe Koreans from the bottom of their hearts. I began to feel that I should not read them, but I could not stop myself from scrolling the screen. I clicked one link after another. Some people said that they would print any anti-Koreans handouts for free. Others said Koreans were planning to take over the Japanese government. I even learned that there were published comic books about why Koreans are hateful for Japanese people. My brain became numb as I read them. I finally shut down the computer after several hours. I did not want to think about anything.

Several days later, I checked the result of my AO examination, and I found out that I had failed the written examination. I thought that my score must have been not high enough. But, at the same time, I could not help but think that my background as a Korean could be the reason why I failed. I wondered if it was possible, because I now knew that there were numerous people in Japan who hate Koreans just for being Korean. I could not think properly, and many images came and went in my mind’s eye. My memory laughed and taunted me saying, “Koreans eat bugs” or “Koreans smell bad because they eat kimchee.” I became afraid of Japanese people and I was afraid of being a Korean.

At that time, I finally understood the meaning of my mother’s words when I entered preschool: Be proud of being a Korean because there is nothing wrong with being Korean. My brain echoed her words again and again. Until that moment, I had thought that nobody could look down on me as long as I was a good girl. I learned that I am too small to change the world. Some people would judge me as a “Korean” before knowing how good I am at studying, at swimming, and at playing the piano. And I learned that such people might also be in Iwaki, my hometown.

I stopped doing anything and I just slept all day long. I put on my school uniform in the morning, but I kept on sleeping during the day. During the university examination period, we can go to school freely or not. I did not go to school, although I had already sent my applications to two other public universities. I could not think of anything and I was always sleepy. I felt like I could sleep forever. Since I did not study at all for a month, I failed the second entrance examination. I took the last examination and luckily I passed it. That was an essay exam, and I was good at writing essays. It was fortunate that the theme of the exam was “the Concept of Time” and not “Your Background.” During the previous two months I felt spiritless. I did not feel any emotion but fear. I always slept on my bed just below a window. From the window, warm sunshine wrapped me softly and I felt safest while in my room.

Shortly after that, I started thinking about how to be a part of Japanese society. I appreciated that my parents gave me Japanese nationality and a Japanese name then. I can be Japanese as long as I do not confess that I am a Korean by blood. Being Japanese was not difficult for me. It was even easier than being Korean. I know Japanese people and Japanese customs very well. I was very satisfied with this simple solution. If I am a normal Japanese, no Japanese person can hurt me. I thought that I could even confess to people that I am a Korean after I fully show them that I am a real Japanese-friendly Korean. Maybe some Japanese people would come to think that Koreans are not as bad as they thought by seeming me as an example. Thus, I began to feel that I did not have to be afraid of Japanese people and I had got a tranquil life in Japan as a university student.

However, of course, nobody can predict the future. The Tohoku Earthquake hit my hometown and Tokyo abruptly at 2:46 p.m. on March 11, 2011. What made it even worse was the disaster that occurred when the Fukushima nuclear power plants exploded. My hometown is only thirty kilometers away from that power plant. Like other foreigners, my parents wanted me and my younger brother to evacuate from Japan. This was so soon after my efforts to become a good Japanese. But now, I had to be a foreigner. I resisted my parents’ suggestion with all my power. What would Japanese people think of me if I departed Japan in this emergency? It would just testify that I am a Korean and a foreigner. I needed to remain in Japan and help my friends and my hometown. At the same time, however, I knew that my hope would force my father to keep working in Fukushima. I really respected my father from the bottom of my heart, and I did not want him to be in danger. I also understood that their suggestion was for our sakes. In front of my mother’s tearful entreaty, I could not resist anymore. I finally evacuated from Japan and I left my Japanese friends behind.

For a month, I did not do anything because I did not have anything to do. I stayed in my aunt’s home in Korea with my younger brother. I spent time playing with my little cousins. I continued checking the Japanese news every day. One day I read an article about a Korean student in Sendai. He helped Japanese people with the rescue efforts and put off his plan to return to Korea. I screamed in my heart. “It should be me! I should be the person that all the Japanese people would appreciate!” I knew that there was nothing I could do anymore. I ran away from Japan but he stayed. For me, that was the only and miserable fact.

After a month, my parents arranged for my brother and me to go to the Philippines to study English. It is cheaper to study in the Philippines than in the US, and our older cousin lives there. By that point, I had already decided not to regret the past. Since I cannot change the past, I wanted to make my future better with all my best efforts.

In the Philippines, my brother and I lived in a dormitory for Koreans. A lot of Koreans go to the Philippines these days to study English. By having a clear purpose, which was to study as hard as possible, my mind was serene and cool. But then I realized that that was the first time for me to live with other Koreans. There were several students who disliked us because we came from Japan. One student reproached me by saying I should return Dokdo Island to them. Another student blamed me for the historical problems, including the comfort women of WWII, between Japan and Korea. Their actions were unreasonable to me, but I was cool enough to ignore them after experiencing the Tohoku Earthquake.

What also made me surprised was that some Koreans were really kind toward me. They recognized my blood and treated me as one of them. I was confused, but at the same time, I felt something warm in my mind. I discovered that I had another home country. Until then, I had believed that everything related to Korea was troublesome for me because of my also being Japanese. I did not know the good characteristics of Koreans until then. In the Philippines, I found out many things about Koreans for the first time. I learned that although Koreans are often cold to strangers, they are extremely kind to their friends. They always spent their time listening to me whenever I remembered the dreadful scenes of the earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear power plant accident. They always listen to their friends if they have any problems. There was a new hope in my mind that evolved by spending time with them. I found that I do not have to cling to Japan if I cannot live well in Japan. That hope was unbelievably bright and warm for me.

In the Philippines, I got another gift for nothing. It was my new name. I could use any English name at the language school, and I chose Lily Cho. Lily was suggested to me by my respectful mother, and Cho is my Korean family name. I chose Cho not because I wanted to get back my real name this time, but because it was easier for teachers to remember than my Japanese family name, Shimizu. With this new name, I introduced myself to the people around me. It was like drawing a new picture on a brand new sheet of white paper. They know Lily Cho as they see what I do. Deception will not work on them, but at the same time they do not have any preconception about me from my background. None of the people there know about my hometown, my university, my name in Japan, or my position in Japan. They just know me by how hard I study English, by how I communicate with others, and by what I speak and write.

After a year passed, I did not persist in many things, such as legally changing my real name, dealing with people’s prejudice, or dealing with the history between Japan and Korea. Some people really liked me in the Philippines, and I learned that I could live not for every person in the world, but for the several people who love me for being me. I learned that I do not have to worry about my responsibility as a Japanese or Korean too much from one of my Filipina friends. She told me we should be busy enough to think about things in the present.

After the one year moratorium, I decided to go back to Japan. Everyone in my family, besides me, moved to Germany with their acquaintances’ help. But I wanted to retry my life in Japan. I learned that I do not have to worry about others or countries too much as long as the people in front of me are kind. I discovered that suspicion produces nothing but fear. This time, I want to live my life without fear in Japan. I want to be strong enough to accept others’ kindness without doubting it. I want to help people and I want to laugh not because I need to, but because I want to. I just want to be able to say that I love both Japan and Korea from the bottom of my heart sometime in the near future.

After the ‘Happily ever after’

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Shambhavi Tripathi
LADY SHRI RAM COLLEGE FOR WOMEN, NEW DELHI, INDIA

“It’s not that I do not love you. it’s that I love you a little too much. You’re such a special person. you deserve someone who can take you to the Moon. I will bear out the pangs of separation only because I know it’s better for you in the long run.”

I am unable to mention the speaker of these lines, probably because they’ve been used so often that it’s impossible to pin down where it all began. It could’ve been Prince Charming from Cinderella once he realized that she wasn’t all rosy lips and sunshine locks. But then again, who cared about the aftermath as long as the story ended with them setting off into this overrated ‘happily ever after’?

We breed in this almost diabetic, sweet view of love, love that is untarnished, unconceited, selfless and in most cases, an end in itself. We may forget our ABC’s but who forgets that first crush that sets you pulsating and colors up your world, or when you first learn to blush, steal shy glances with him and spend endless moments comparing him to that Mills and Boon character you’ve secured in the depths of your heart? We all have that phase, when spilling your heart out in the diary scores way above filling up pages of assignments, when you start doodling hearts everywhere and honestly believe that every love song ever written defines You. It’s extraordinary how simple it is to fall in love—after all, its not called ‘falling’ for no reason. Anything that I write about the flow and beauty of love will only be a repetition, maybe even in cruder terms.

It’s true: love transforms you and makes you believe that you can overpower any catastrophe. Love has moved mountains, waged battles and sacrificed. To a hopeless romantics like myself, there is relief even in the dooms of love. But what if it is all a charade, an age-old lore that is too tantalizing to not fall prey to? In the wanton illusions of lying below the sheet of stars with clasped hands, we are deluded into thinking that there will never be a starless night.

It’s almost cruel, that subtle drift from romantic to corny, expressive to cheesy, affection to clingy, and the hardest is to stand back and watch it all fall apart. The fear of loss, the choice between holding on and letting go, the painful wait to hear that you’re not a part of someone’s story anymore. Then come the tears. That’s the funny thing about crying. It doesn’t wash away anything, but simply sets your rash tremors in motion. Rains, sunsets and dawns—elements of nature you’d befriended do everything in their power to drown you in seas of separation, hurt and rejection.

He would have you believe that it is all in a vested larger good, an ironical attempt of ‘protecting’ you from a more severe degree of pain. It’s tough to compose arguments when you see the determined look in his eyes, and hear the harshness in the voice that made your heart melt. Breakups are severely underrated; the world seems to have objectified love in stunted concepts of ‘getting over’ and ‘replacing the guy’. There seems to be no space for those who love once with everything they have to offer. Love isn’t a conquest. It’s not a tryst to intensify life. It’s sunlight, which warms you to your core. You never grow out of love, it never fades away. Over time, we just find less painful ways of keeping it at bay.

It hurts, yes. Then again, what doesn’t? For a while, the world around you might not make sense to you, may even seem unnecessary, you may not want to go to the movies or tune into your playlist and no one can tell you how long that feeling of not feeling anything would last. In some cases, a broken heart is mended and other times, it might be the only time that the heart attaches itself to anything that requires it to beat faster than it biologically does. How much love is destructive? When is your insistence at holding on mistaken for your helplessness at letting go? When do you draw the line between trying to preserve it and letting it slip away because it doesn’t want to be saved? How do you know when you no longer have the right to move someone whose gravity you once were? Truth is, there’s no degree to Love. It’s either everything or nothing at all.

Next time you spot a cheesy gesture of love, think again. It’s not important to ‘succeed’ in love. What is vital is to believe in it, to believe in a version of the world that runs on simple love. The world needs that kind of addictive love, love that is supernatural, real and dreamy, all at once. I often think if we could ever run out of love, but does it really matter? The worst way to kill love is to quantify it with the ‘happily ever after’. Look out for love and grab it, make it yours, cherish and celebrate it. In love, take a couple of chances and skip a couple of heartbeats, because the world is just a dark, lonely place without it.

Hope in Xianlin

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Fang Shu, Lin Qing and Zhang Wenying
GINLING COLLEGE, XIANLIN, CHINA

Ginling College set her new campus in Xianlin by the end of 1990s. Since then, more and more universities and colleges have moved from the downtown to Xianlin, a suburb of Nanjing. Xianlin used to be a pasture and was acquired by a property developer decades ago. Now it has become the university town that has gathered thirteen universities and colleges. In recent years, Xianlin has developed so rapidly that property prices have skyrocketed. The high rise boom has made us ignore many significant phenomena and people worthy of careful consideration, especially women. Our college has started a curriculum on women’s studies for freshwomen, which makes us pay much more attention to the women around us.

Therefore, we interviewed three women who all live in Xianlin and are close to us in their respective ways. Our lives are bound up with them. Their lives like mirrors reflect our own. We learn from them and we learn about ourselves. (Ed note: A video of those interviews appears below.)

The first interview is one of the landladys who often lingers around our school gate. Within her hands, there is a small cardboard on which it says “Cheap Accommodation Provided”. Her job is to ask people passing by whether they need to rent a hotel room for an hour or even longer. The price of the room she provides is very low in order to attract more customers. When passing by the school gate, we often see her promoting rooms. Out of curiosity, we interviewed her and found that she and the other landladies actually live a difficult and miserable life. Their houses were demolished decades ago and most of them who were farmers lost their fields. In addition to the unbalanced economic development and the inequality of opportunities for females, they can’t find a decent job. Without a regular income, they find that accommodation in a university town is a good business opportunity. Nevertheless, they don’t have many customers and are only able to maintain their livelihood. Some of them even live in the basements now. Thus we hope the government and the society can pay much more attention to them and handle the issues of the landladies’ well-being.

The second interview is with a helper in our school’s canteen. We often see her busy collecting plates and clearing tables. She is from Chaohu, a neighboring city of Nanjing. She was a farmer from a remote village and could only earn 10,000 RMB a year. Seeking jobs on her own, she came here for a relatively high-paid job. Though she misses her hometown a lot, she feels satisfied with her current life in that she can provide better living conditions for her children. She believes that she can make a good living by great efforts.

The third interview is with our classmate—a girl from Ginling College. At present, the enlargement of the number of students in universities and colleges makes job hunting a quite difficult task for all graduates. We students face the same severe employment pressure as the first two interviewees. However, she is filled with a great hope, ambition and confidence about the future. The development of Xianlin university town offers her plenty of chances. It provides her with advanced educational facilities and favorable career development. At the same time, she is willing to make contributions to the development of Nanjing.

With the development of the society, our economy has become uneven and the inequality of opportunities for females is more and more serious. In our university town, Xianlin, many women don’t have good living conditions but still struggle to live positively. There are many ill fortunes and sorrows in Xianlin. However, there are many more women who have great hopes and confidence for the future. It is the women that shine a light for the development of Xianlin.

In every city, in every place, there is both sadness and happiness. We have sympathy for the unfortunate ones. Meanwhile, we are supposed to cherish a hope for these who still have dreams.

My Fort with Its Moat: Why Did I Make It and Why Was It Destroyed?

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Ishita Sareen
LADY SHRI RAM COLLEGE FOR WOMEN, NEW DELHI, INDIA

I am an 18 year old girl, who weighs 87 kg, precisely. I know that is big amount, I am almost obese by 25-30 kg (what knowledge I gleaned in my physical education classes). I am 5’4″, a modest height. I do not have any particular talents to brag off, I am just your ordinary teenager, but with my own custom-made body image issues.

I was born a healthy child (3.5 kg at my birth on December 16, 1994), just what my parents wanted. I was the most pampered and loved on both my parent’s sides. I was fed cans of lactogen, baby formula, and God knows what else so that I grew up to be a healthy baby. I did. I was a healthy, chubby child, always a little ahead of my classmates on the weight front.

Honestly, I did not care. I never spent my time looking in mirrors, nor do I do now. I was content with myself, at peace with the world and my Alpenlibe lollipop. But as I grew old, I realized that though I was happy with me, the world was not happy seeing me being me. No offense to all those who are thinking that this is just another teen story, but really don’t flip pages just yet.

I was 8 and at school, and that was the first time I felt ashamed of my appearance, of my weight. I remember clearly. It was mid November and the class bully was holding his conference at the far corner of the playground. I was not part of that. I always stood up for what I liked/wanted/felt was right (pick any, I don’t mind)—in this case I did not like being dominated so I did not join the conference. Later on I learnt that the resolution that had been passed was to call me ‘moti ’1 from now on. My friends left me for the bully camp and I was alone. That day I cried in the school bus. Now when all memories have grown so old and I hardly remember any good ones (just vague recollections), that one is the one that stands out, corrupting other treasured memories.

After that incident and many others just like that, I taught myself to ignore them all. That was at 10. No matter what they said, I did not rise to the bait; I kept silent. I mastered it gradually. I built a permanent red brick fort, with its own moat of crocodiles. I was proud of myself. My parents might have guessed what I was facing at school, but they left me to fight my own battles and wars and for that I was grateful because I learnt to fight and hold my own fort.

As I progressed into teenage-hood, I began to realize that the wall I had built around myself was not so permanent after all. It was showing cracks in some places. But with school, boys and lots and lots of homework, who has the time to fill up cracks? The fort turned into a ruin and I felt all those hateful memories and the new names (now improvised) boring into my memory. Like some mind-control drill.

I declined offers to sit with friends, convinced that I would be needled about my weight issue. In the school bus when we had to squeeze together, I would get up from my seat and give it to another. Many thought this act was good-breeding but it really was so that no one could get any opportunity to say that I blocked too much space. I started hating my school uniform, as I looked fat in it. I never looked at myself I the mirror in the morning because I was afraid that I might break down. Many whistles from street loafers followed me in the streets. I was getting out of control inside, getting paranoid. Convinced that everyone was looking at me, commenting about my ever increasing weight. And I could do nothing to stop it, nothing to fight. I went on walks, consulted dieticians and did a lot of exercise, but nothing budged those muscles. I was depressed so I ate even more. And that got me to my present 87 kg.

I thought or hallucinated that I was fighting the battles and winning some of them, but by some treachery on the account of my brain, my crocs were dead. I was not immune to those leers and taunts after all. I am not proud of the fact, but I just curled up under my sheets for a few days and cried. I thought and cried some more. But eventually the crying stopped the raging at the world, the leers and the whistles going through my brain too. It’s a terrifying feeling you get when everything just stops, you wonder if it ever was there, will it return, what happened to it? This was when I was 14.

I started work on a new wall this time with super strong cement, working out the points where I had been weak before. I was shy ever since I can remember but now I was an introvert too. As I grew I learned that my weight was not THE problem. The taunts, and the leers continued, but I realized that they were less a problem when I grew older, more mature. Now people were beginning to understand me, they were trying not to judge me by how I looked and I was grateful for that. They took the trouble to find out about the real me, that me who was hiding under the cemented grey brick walls. I made real friends, who stood alongside me when I needed them. The ‘friend in need is a friend indeed’ type.

And that made me realize something else too. (Other than admitting I had a problem which needed exercise to get over, which I am doing faithfully). You can decide whether its wisdom or not.

I realized that we all are insecure. All these insecurities make a great part of who we are. Some people let those insecurities commandeer their life. Like I did, they made forts and moats and also kept crocs and jelly fish. Sigh. Some others pay no attention to them but give all their time towards scouring their real talents, their natural ones, honing them to perfection so that the insecurities look puny. Yet others find a way round them, the middle path, they spend time on their insecurities and nurture their talents too. I call these the all rounders. I haven’t decided yet to which category I belong to, but I think I just might bet on the last one.

The bullies in my life who called me all the names and the mean things had insecurities. We live in a world that includes people venting out their anger, emotions, feelings etc. at others—catharsis, they call it. And we need to do that, Why? To feel important, self-satisfied, proud, loved, arrogant, valued, safe, satisfied, confident…. In this process even if we end up saying some mean things or some people end up listening to that mean talk, it’s no reason to make a wall, or bury yourself in deep, or do anything that might make yourself feel ashamed. Because you are what you are. All the songs say it, celebs say it, our shrinks say it, the society also seems to say it—it is we who refuse to believe it. And trust me you only believe it when you are faced with no other option than to believe. You always have the power to believe but you also have the power to choose what you believe, and the impossibility of a situation becomes the catalyst of your decision.

As I learned it the slightly hard way, some mean things cannot change who you are even though you might try it. Some other souls come along and dig you up from your self-dug grave. And to me those are my angels. Sort off. Bit dramatic, huh?

Those people, the mean characters in my life had a great role to play. They eventually bought me closer to the path, at the end of which came Deduction Number 1 — that I had a problem, and Deduction Number 1a — which needed some solutions and fast, which led to my slimming-down-by-the-earliest scheme of tasks, including a lot of exercise. I was never comfortable in my own skin. Big surprise! Every teenager says that, I guess (except the ones with no acne and perfect swimsuit bodies, if there are any). But now I am very near to it. Bet you no ‘teenager’ says that. Deduction Number 2 — there might be room for constant improvement, but that improvement should not be based on the whims and fancies of others.

I am again at peace with my world, have dreams, go party sometimes, read books still. But there is no archaic fort now. There’s a valley full of long grass that beckons me to move on and love myself even more. I have started loving myself for who I am (and believe me life has taken a turn for good), have you?

1 Derogatory Hindi term for “fatty”

English and I

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Saki Suemori
OCHANOMIZU UNIVERSITY, TOKYO, JAPAN

When I think about myself, how I have been formed, I always assume English is an inevitable thing for my life. I have learned tremendous things by studying English and I encountered many people. Studying English absolutely opened a new world for me and it made me open my views. In this essay I would like to illustrate the relationship between English and I.

I started studying English when I was a junior high school student. I entered one private junior high school and the curriculum there emphasized English. Because of this, I had many English classes compared to students in other schools and I had English lessons by a native speaker at least once a week. I did not have any clear purpose, but I was really interested in studying English at that time. I just wanted to progress in English skills more and more. So I studied English hard everyday. I used any materials for study at that time. I subscribed to a weekly English newspaper and read every article, even though I did not understand the content very well. I also listened to national public radio almost every day though I did not understand it at all.

As I was really absorbed in English, I decided to major in English in the university. I just wanted to continue studying English and improve my English skills. After I entered the university, there were many chances for studying English. When I was a freshman, I participated in studying abroad program in New Zealand. I studied English for six weeks there. Thanks to this experience, I was really motivated for studying English compared to before. In addition, energetic and powerful people there gave me energy and I became more positive.

After I came back to Japan, I studied English harder and harder. I was interested in studying somewhere as an exchange student and I studied hard to have an opportunity for exchange studies. Fortunately, when I was a junior, I got an opportunity to study in Finland as an exchange student. Finland is not an English-speaking country, but I wanted to know how English was taught there. I was also interested in the attitude Finnish people have toward English.

Studying in Finland was very interesting and I experienced a lot of things. Summer is only for two months and during that time, the sun shines until late at night. On the other hand, in winter, there is hardly any sunshine for a few months. People there are strong enough to overcome harsh winter and they cherish nature very much. I felt that nature is in the center of Finnish people’s lives.

Finnish people speak good English. So, I did not have any difficulties communicating with them even though I did not understand Finnish very well. In the university, some classes are available in English as well. Surprisingly, all classes in the English philology department, (the department in which I studied), were available in English. Most professors and students are Finnish but they teach and discuss in English.

Staying in this kind of small country taught me crucial things for my life. Beautiful lakes there indicated to me how important it is to be myself. Lakes are everywhere in Finland and I often went to see them when I had some hardships. Watching the surface of beautiful lakes made me calm down and they gave me energy to move forward. Walking around lakes was one of the most crucial activities for me. In addition, I also learned the importance of having a strong will. I always had difficulties with classes in the university and it was challenging for me to study together with Finnish students there. Their English competency is very high and I always compared myself with them. One day, I asked one professor some questions about English pronunciation. As I did not have confidence about pronunciation, I asked him how I should practice. He answered my question and he also told me the saying ‘Where there’s a will, there’s a way.’ He said that I can improve my pronunciation because I have a will. This phrase encouraged me a lot and I practiced harder and harder. This saying still helps me when I have some problems.

English is just one language, but it is crucial for me. Studying English is a tool to spread my view. I encountered many people and learned many things with English. I visited New Zealand because I wanted to improve my English skills and I experienced a lot in Finland because I could communicate in English. Studying English helps me to grow as a person; it is more than just learning a language. I have been studying English for 10 years so far and I am still studying it. Studying English is a way to experience many things and I believe it will help me to find a way to contribute to society. I would like to continue studying English so that I am able to give something back.