by T J Anzai At the starting line with a daydream: | am here and | am there. | am in two places at once. In each place | have a different voice, a differ- ent life. | am two different people, two different names, a source of two. My identity is two, but | am not. | am neither here nor there. | am nowhere. | am lost. The little green people from outer space who con- trol all life can play unusual tricks on us. Here’s one for you: You were born in Canada and your parents are from somewhere else. However, since you were born in Canada, you are a Canadian citizen, enti- tled to all the rights and privileges of other Canadian citizens and you are capable of holding a navy blue passport that says ‘Canada’ on it. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining about being Canadian, though others may (or have) com- plained about the fact that | can share the red maple leaf with them. This reference here, of course, is to the very sticky and very icky topic of cultural and racial discrimination. If you’ve been bombarded with cultural theory in your senior art history classes and are sick to death of it, then I'll forgive you if you turn the page now, but | should like to say that this article really isn’t about to become a pompously onceited, over-postmodern- ized academic critique of considerable size. It is just a story about a teacher of English, and | just have to paint a little backdrop. So there you are, a Canadian by birth, and you are not as free as you think, for you were unable to choose where you were born. Your date of birth happened to coincide with your parents tenancy in canada, so welcome! To the nation of maple syrup, ice hockey, iagara Falls, Aurora Borealis, and of course, the Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design. Oh and | shouldn’t forget to tell you that you were born to little, tiny, black haired, seaweed and raw fish eating, Kirin Beer drinking a people from across the Pacific, which means that you look dif- i- C ferent from the majority of other Canadians. Surprise! But ‘_— what surprise? Who doesn’t | look different from everyone else, Ls ~ | and what the hell does it mean to look Canadian anyway? @ Beaver fur caps, flannel shirts te and goalie pads? Hardly... So all your life you’ve lived a with this difference, but it didn’t stop you from getting good 5 See grades in schoo!, making a ——T bunch of rulin’ friends, and mastering the Canadian lan- guage (eh) to write articles for = the university paper. But one Bday thing it did do, especially when some churlish, subintelligent, belligerent ‘real’ Canadian - attacked you for it, was that it made you long for the other part of you, existing some- where outside of your world and time. And so it made you long for a part of you that lived back in history, and it made you think sometimes that you were some- place where you shouldn't be. So here we go with another installment of The English Teacher, the teacher of flux identity, of no identity. You know how this story starts already: he is laughing at this little joke his parents played on him when he was born, and then all of the sudden, an opportunity arises for him to reclaim some of his loss. With such a chance to return to that island over the sea, he eagerly accepts it. Oh yeah, he also needed the money. Before leaving - a conversation: “You know, you’re going to have it a lot easier than some of us.” “Why do you say that?” “Well, you got the whole stealth thing going for you. You're not going to stick out as much as us...” Of course the joke was no longer funny the moment | left. Boo hoo hoo. No no, | don’t want to leave you. At the moment of leaving, you realize what place can do to influence your being. (The people too, of course). Though | had always consid- ered myself as bi-national, the moment of depar- ture finally brought me to accept my identity as a Canadian. Though it’s still an indecipherable term, | accept that whatever it is that | do, | learned how to do it in Canada. Is it something to do with owner- ship of experience? Maybe. It’s rather confusing isn’t it? Now | am no longer on that beautiful Canadian soil, and the situations | face have further made me realize how far apart | am from being home. These people are different. These people do not think like | do. | am not one of them... | ride the trains, per- fectly disguised as one of them, but they don’t know my real identity. | am an English teacher from Canada! Ha ha! It’s quite funny, don’t you think? Of course some people do know, for example, my students. For the most part, they think it’s pretty cool and wish that they could have been born somewhere else too. But of course, they are English student so maybe it’s to be expected. | real- ly can’t understand the facination people have here with all things American. If you are an English speaking foreigner, you are automatically popular. It doesn’t matter if you're a total slacker loser who can't get a date cause you're always playing Magic- The Gathering or watching pro-wrestling on T.V. with all your loser friends. Come to Japan and you will have many beautiful Japanese girls who are all materialistic gold diggers (or American/Canadian citizenship diggers). |, however, do not qualify for their indecent attentions, because of my native appearance. Oh well. What a loss. In a way, this whole stealth thing has made things a bit easy. | don’t have to worry about being differ- ent anymore, and | don’t have to worry about hav- ing 120 million pairs of ogling eyes scanning me with either admiration or distrust. | am like all of you, please please embrace me as one of your own. |’ll tell you though, sometimes it’s a bit of a double edged sword. | think there’s something wrong with my stealth, some kind of manufacturers’ defect. There are some cracks where my Canadianess leaks through. There have been some situations where my stealth has been blown open and my true identity revealed. | have to cautiously explain that | am a foreigner and Canadian, and if | am not careful, and my language deficiency is revealed (I am illiterate at reading and writing Japanese and | cannot speak fluently) then | am scolded for being a ‘stupid’ Japanese of foreign decent. Yeah, sometimes it sucks to have these kinds of unrealistic expectations placed on you, but | do believe that it is a controllable situation and one that can be resolved with some hard work and studying. So that’s it for The English Teacher this month. What do you think? Is that student loan looking a little inflated? Can’t get a date ‘cause you're a WWF geek? Then why not come to Japan, where the humidity is high, the nightlife is hopping, and the bread is mostly white. Think you can handle it? | know | can’t. I’m homesick for Vancouver and I’m ready to come home. But | can’t. Damn you student loan! Take care students and teachers. A difficult time is coming up. The skies will get grey and dark, and the constant drizzle is approaching. Yet, there is a light at the end of it all. It's called next summer. Have a good semester y'all. Next month: ???2?? Coming soon: Jappa-Weirdo. This country really is good for a Jot of laughs. Do you remember the movie “Wild at Heart” by David Lynch? Do you remember the scene where Lulu says to Sailor Ripley, “This whole world’s wild at heart and weird on top.” Well, if as Lulu says, it’s weird at the top of the world, then the top of the world is definitely Japan. pt.2. Stealth Galjin by T J Anzai At the starting line with a daydream: 1am here and | am there. | am in two places at once. In each place | have a different voice, a differ- ent life. | am two different people, two different names, a source of two. My identity is two, but | am not. | am neither here nor there. | am nowhere. | am lost. The litle green people from outer space who con- trol all fe can play unusual tricks on us. Here's one for you: You were born in Canada and your parents are from somewhere else. However, since you were born in Canada, you are a Canadian citizen, enti- tled to all the rights and privileges of other Canadian citizens and you are capable of holding a navy blue passport that says ‘Canada’ on it. Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining about being Canadian, though others may (or have) com- plained about the fact that I can share the red maple leaf with them. This reference here, of course, is to the very sticky and very icky topic of cultural and racial discrimination. If you've been bombarded with cultural theory in your senior art history classes and are sick to death of it, then I'l forgive you if you turn the page now, but | should like to Say that this article really isn't about to become a pompously onceited, over-postmodern- ized academic critique of considerable size. Iis just a story about a teacher of English, and | just have to paint a little backdrop. So there you are, a Canadian by birth, and you are not as free as you think, for you were unable to ‘choose where you were born. Your date of birth happened to coincide with your parents tenancy in ‘canada, so welcome! To the nation of maple syrup, ice hockey, iagara Falls, Aurora Borealis, and of course, the Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design. (Oh and | shouldn't forget to tell you that you were born to litle, tiny, black haired, seaweed and raw fish eating, Kirin Beer drinking people from across the Pacific, which means that you look dif- ferent from the majority of ‘other Canadians. Surprise! But what surprise? Who doesn't look different from everyone Sox to look Canadian anyway? Beaver fur caps, flannel shirts and goalie pads? Hardly... So all your life you've lived with this difference, but it didn’t ‘stop you from getting good {grades in schoo!, making a bunch of rulin’friends, and ‘mastering the Canadian lan- f {guage (eh) to write articles for fli the university paper. But one Teagy 9 t cid do, especialy when some churlish, subintelligent, beliigerent ‘real’ Canadian attacked you for it, was that it made you long for the other Part of you, existing some- where outside of your world and time. And so it made you long for a part of you that lived back in history, and ittmade you think sometimes that you were some- place where you shouldn't be. So here we go with another installment of The English Teacher, the teacher of flux identity, of no identity. You know how this story starts already: he laughing at this litle joke his parents played on im when he was born, and then all of the sudden, ‘an opportunity arises for him to reclaim some of his Joss. With such a chance to return to that island. over the sea, he eagerly accepts it. Oh yeah, he also needed the money. Before leaving - a conversation: "You know, you're going to have it a lot easier than some of us.” “Why do you say that?" “Well, you got the whole stealth thing going for you. You're not going to stick out as much as us. Of course the joke was no longer funny the moment | left. Boo hoo hoo. No no, | don't want to leave you. At the moment of leaving, you realize what place can do to influence your being, (The people too, of course). Though | had always consid- ered myself as bi-national, the moment of depar- ture finally brought me to accept my identity as a Canadian. Though it's stil an indecipherable term, | accept that whatever it is that | do, | learned how to do it in Canada. Is it something to do with owner- ship of experience? Maybe. I's rather confusing isntit? Now I am no longer on that beautiful Canadian soil, and the situations | face have further made me realize how far apart | am from being home. These People are different. These people do not think like do. | am not one of them... | ride the trains, per- fectly disguised as one of them, but they don't know my real identity. | am an English teacher from Canada! Ha ha! I's quite funny, don’t you think? Of course some people do know, for example, my students. For the most part, they think it’s pretty cool and wish that they could have been born somewhere else too. But of course, they are English student so maybe its to be expected. | real- ly can't understand the facination people have here with all things American. If you are an English speaking foreigner, you are automatically popular. It doesn't matter if you're a total slacker loser who ‘can't get a date cause you're always playing Magic- ‘The Gathering or watching pro-wrestling on T.V. with all your loser friends. Come to Japan and you will have many beautiful Japanese girls who are all materialistic gold diggers (or American/Canadian citizenship diggers). I, however, do not qualify for their indecent attentions, because of my native ‘appearance. Oh well. What a loss. In a way, this whole stealth thing has made things a bit easy. | don't have to worry about being differ- ‘ent anymore, and I don't have to worry about hav- ing 120 million pairs of ogling eyes scanning me with either admiration or distrust. | am like all of you, please please embrace me as one of your ‘own. Ill tell you though, sometimes it's a bit of a double edged sword. | think there's something wrong with my stealth, some kind of manufacturers’ defect. There are some cracks where my Canadianess leaks through. There have been some situations where my stealth has been blown open and my true identity revealed. | have to ‘cautiously explain that | am a foreigner and Canadian, and if | am not careful, and my language deficiency is revealed (| am illiterate at reading and writing Japanese and I cannot speak fluently) then | am scolded for being a ‘stupid’ Japanese of foreign decent. Yeah, sometimes it sucks to have these kinds of unrealistic expectations placed on you, but 1 do believe that it is a controllable situation and one that can be resolved with some hard work and studying So that's it for The English Teacher this month. What do you think? Is that student loan looking a little inflated? Can't get a date ‘cause you're a WWF geek? Then why not come to Japan, where the humidity is high, the nightlife is hopping, and the bread is mostly white. Think you can handle it? | know I can't. I'm homesick for Vancouver and I'm ready to come home. But I can't. Damn you student loan! Take care students and teachers. A difficult time is coming up. The skies will get grey and dark, and the constant drizzle is approaching. Yet, there is a light at the end of it all. I's called next summer. Have a good semester yall. Next month: 22222? Coming soon: Jappa-Weirdo. This country really is good for a lot of laughs. Do you remember the movie “Wild at Heart” by David Lynch? Do you remember the scene where Lulu says to Sailor Ripley, “This whole world’s wild at heart and weird on top." Well, if as Lulu says, it's weird at the top of the world, then the top of the world is definitely Japan.