“I wish I looked like you,” they said.
“In what way?” I asked, confused.
“Your eyes and nose and hair. They just look so foreign.”
I am what people like to call a ha-fu (half), or a person of mixed race origin, a child born between a Swiss man and a Japanese woman. My childhood comprised of moving every 3 or 4 years due to my father’s job, mostly between Japan and Switzerland. In the total 8 years spent in Switzerland, I knew two other interracial children of the same mix as me. Since children and teenagers were often racially insensitive, especially in white dominant countries like Switzerland, I spent most of the time playing up my whiteness. My Japanese identity was locked up and hidden as a way for me to assimilate as much as possible with my classmates.
Moving back to Japan for my middle school years was a blessing for me. I attended an international school with many biracial kids that I identified with, which allowed me to feel like I was a part of a community. It was also at this time that I grew transfixed with Japanese variety talk shows. The eclectic sets, the comedic banter, and the sometimes-heartfelt stories were things that drew me in. Mostly, though, as a pre-pubescent child obsessed with celebrity culture, it was because I saw people who looked like me: Biracial women.
Pictured above: Reina Triendl, popular ha-fu talent of Japanese and Austrian descent. (Source)
I cannot remember any prime time show not having a ha-fu woman. They were (and still are to this day) considered the epitome of Japanese beauty. Eurocentric beauty standards seeped their way into Japanese society in the Showa era, and reached a pop culture boom in the mid 2000’s. However, as a preteen I was oblivious to Japanese inclinations towards xenophobia and the desire for ethnic homogeneity.
It was not until my move to Tokyo for university that I noticed the odd way in which Japanese society treated people like me. I have always been white passing in Japan, which caused some internal conflicts about my identity. When asked about my nationality, I would always say, “Japanese and Swiss.” I received two kinds of responses to this answer. The first was, “Oh, Switzerland!” This seems like an innocent and enthusiastic reaction, but to me, it felt like they did not care for my Japanese ancestry. They were just interested in the European aspect of my identity, and would laugh if I spoke in my native Kansai dialect. I grew up watching the same anime, reading the same manga, and listening to the same music as all of them, but they didn’t want to hear about that.
The other popular response was, “Oh, you’re a ha-fu.” It was as if they were telling me that I would never be Japanese no matter how much I identified as such. It didn’t matter if I acted in the reserved manner or dressed conservatively the way society expected of me, because I was not 100% Japanese and therefore I am foreign in the eyes of many. The realization that what I saw on Japanese TV all those years ago was not even close to an accurate representation of society was a jarring experience. My cynical self believes that pop culture is only inclusive of ha-fu talents because they want to fetishize the image of a globalized Japanese person who has the combined aspects of native and Western culture. It is a direct influence of American soft power and their promotion of their ideas of beauty over the decades that led to an idolization for all things Western. Nonetheless, it is very strange. Viewers love to see ha-fus on TV, but won’t acknowledge us as Japanese. There is a simultaneous admiration and ambivalence directed towards ha-fus that is quite difficult to process. I never once expected to be adored or propped up on a pedestal the way biracial celebrities were, but I thought I would be perceived and treated as a Japanese citizen. What I got instead was a condescending attitude from many of the people I interacted with.
‘Ha-fu’ is a term I avoid as much as possible when describing myself or people like me. Unfortunately, it is the only word we have in Japanese to express our mixed race heritage. It strikes me as a word that says, ‘you’re not really Japanese.’ This country has always bragged about its monoethnic population (spoiler alert: that’s just a myth), and so having the privilege of being perceived as Japanese means one must look and act a certain way. Therefore, being white passing means I rarely get the benefit of getting identified the way I see myself. I had decided to come to Japan for university and get back in touch with my Japanese identity, only to have that aspect of me ignored by the majority of people I came across.
The most irritating thing, however, is the trend of Japanese girls applying make up and changing their appearance to look more like a ha-fu. Coloured contacts, perming their hair to look wavy, and getting minor surgeries to get that ‘Eurasian look’ have become popular since the ha-fu boom of the mid-2000’s. A lot of women and girls I come across are vocal about wanting the same physical features as me, all while saying that I’m not really Japanese. I never know whether to laugh or be angered by their hypocrisy.
Nonetheless, many biracial people who grew up in the country wear it as a badge of honour. Ariana Miyamoto, the first biracial woman to win the title of Miss Japan 2015, is a defender of the word. In an interview with the BBC after her win, she said, “If it were not for the word ha-fu, it would be very difficult to describe who I am, what kind of person I am in Japan.” While I don’t disagree with her, it does seem to me like an answer that came from someone who, as a result of growing up as an ostracized member of society, embraced the ‘othering’ of her identity. I can honestly say that I wish I had the same positive attitude as Miyamoto. Miyamoto faced public scrutiny for not being ‘Japanese enough’ to be titled Miss Universe. Biracial women of non-Western origins face even more criticism from society, being ridiculed for their skin colour and complexion. People with darker skin tones are generally portrayed as Obaka Kyara (おバカキャラ/stupid characters) that are the laughing stock of the show. It makes me wonder, why are white passing celebrities being praised while ha-fus from ‘Other’ countries don’t get nearly as much positive representation on TV? Has the media industry inherited the anti-black ideology of the Western countries they are trying to emulate in this day and age of globalization? Japanese media should be featuring more ha-fus of colour to at least uplift society’s perception of non-white citizens.
I wrote this article to express my anger and frustration in interactions I have almost everyday. While white passing biracial citizens are nowhere near the most discriminated group in the country, the rejection we all face is gut wrenching. Wanting to belong to a society that rejects anything that does not meet the full criteria is impossible, but we keep trying anyway. It doesn’t matter if I yelled, “I AM JAPANESE!” from the top of Mount Fuji – they would laugh and call me ‘just a ha-fu.’