In Japan, Being Different Is Hard

My sons, though, they are Japanese. My oldest son, Mini-Bash, is seven. He doesn’t really look foreign per se, but he does look slightly different from everyone else. His hair is brown. And his last name is CRAZY.

He came home from school today and said that on the way home another kid — an older kid he doesn’t know — punched him and made fun of him for being a “half”.

Mini-Bash seemed to take it all in stride, and we told him to tell his teachers if that happens again, get the name of the kid, etc. Mrs. Bashcraft did a good job of explaining things. And I quote, “I grew up in Japan. And when I grew up, I thought Japan was normal, that everywhere was like Japan and everybody was Japanese. But then you grow up and you see that everyone isn’t Japanese, and that people are different, and that there are all kinds of people.”

My car analogy (If everyone drove Nissans, life would be boring, right?) seemed sink in with the kid. (Says the man who drives a Nissan.)

Really do not want the kid to develop a complex about being half-Japanese, and we tried to explain that jerk kids pick on other kids for a variety of reasons — so don’t get hung up on being different.

Raising kids is really, really tough. Being a kid is tougher. 🙁

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