This morning on my way to work I remembered it was my mum’s birthday and for some reason this got me to thinking about me being half-Japanese. Being a halvsey in the past twenty or so years has ceased to be such a rare thing. There are so many different races living in and around London that another mixed-race person doesn’t stand out so much. On the one hand it’s a good thing that the community in general is diversifying but on the other hand a part of me can’t help but feel the loss of my uniqueness.

When I was a kid I didn’t like being different and occasionally received taunts such as ‘Chineseface’. (Actually this didn’t faze me that much. I just thought: I’m Japanese, get it right!) I used to long for an English sounding name like Elizabeth or something.

Back in the day being half-Japanese was very unusual. My brother and I would often hear comments such as, ‘I once met a Japanese guy, do you know him?’

One time when I was in primary school, during an RE lesson, the headmistress asked me if Maya was the Japanese version of Mary. Even at the tender age of eight I could see flaws in this kind of logic.

One of my favourite questions I’ve fielded in the past is, ‘Are you a bit foreign?’ But, as I said before, being a bit foreign these days is nothing special. More recently I have had to convince people of my foreignness. An ex-flatmate told me that she had been arguing with her boyfriend about me. Intriguing, I thought. The conversation went something like this:

- Did you know Maya’s half-Japanese?
- No she’s not.
- She is.
- She’s bloody not. She’s English.
(and so on)

Sadly now it seems the only remnant of my foreignness is my name, which people continue to persistantly and stubbornly mispronounce.

Maybe my loss of uniqueness is due to London’s rapidly developing cultural awareness or maybe the longer I live in this country the more Anglicized I’m becoming. And if that’s the case then I think it’s about time to book my next trip to Japan ne?