Anna Matsushita

  Approximately 40 years ago. During my time at school in the UK, an incident occurred that has lingered vividly in my memory.  One day, as I sat reading a newspaper in the classroom, a senior student—a year above me—spotted me. Later that day, he approached me in the hallway and said, “Will you bring the newspaper of yours?” Without much thought, I responded, “Roger, wilco,” before heading off to fetch the newspaper, which I had left behind in the classroom. No sooner had I uttered the phrase than a Canadian teacher nearby interjected, visibly startled: “What did you just say?” I replied, slightly perplexed, “I said, ‘Roger, wilco.’” “And what does that mean?” he demanded. “It means the same as ‘Aye aye, sir,’” I explained, hoping to clarify. To my surprise, this only seemed to deepen his confusion. “If ‘Aye aye, sir’ is a naval term,” he pressed, “then ‘Roger, wilco’ must surely be an Air Force expression. Why would a Japanese student like you know military jargon?” I couldn...

  Allow me, as someone of an older generation, to offer a reflection. This is a story from nearly 40 years ago.   When I had been attending an international school in London for about a year, at the age of 15, I developed a small ritual: a monthly visit to the nearby McDonald’s with my classmates. It was one of the few indulgences we allowed ourselves.   It was a bitterly cold winter, and despite the weather, we all ordered milkshakes. Naturally, holding the icy cup chilled my hands to the bone.   “ Oh my God, my hands are freezing!” I exclaimed without a second thought.   Suddenly, an adult passing by—a Black man—grabbed my elbow and asked sternly, “Who are you? Why are you, someone who doesn’t seem Christian at all, saying ‘Oh my God’?”   What a lookism.I was bewildered, left staring at him in silence, unsure what was happening. At that moment, another man, who appeared to be of Middle Eastern descent, joined in.   “ Are you...

  “Heyyy, Inaba san! So, like, you’re not going to the University of South Australia or what? "   Oh, here we go again. With just a month to go until the exchange programme interviews, my club junior, Wakana Motegi, has once again cornered me with the question. It’s like clockwork at this point. Rumour has it she’s keen on going to the same university as me. Honestly, she’s not exactly subtle about it. “Not there!” I reply breezily. “It’s the University of Sydney.” But then she tilts her head and says, “O"But, like, the study-abroad office says you’re totally going to the University of South Australia, Inaba-senpai!" Great. So much for confidentiality. It sounds like my plans have leaked everywhere.   It was clear my plans weren’t exactly under wraps anymore.   My first encounter with Wakana Motegi had been two years ago, back in 1989, when she was a first-year student. We were both part of the English Conversation Club, though in different subgroups—she was in ...