Autobiography
By Tomoko Kushihashi '06

When I was a seventeen years old, I unexpectedly stopped by the bookstore to browse through books rather than go window-shopping.  I didn’t know why I went there after school, but I did.  Walking between the tall shelves, I took a glance at a book in the life psychology section.  When I opened up the first page, a poem came into my vision:

Discovery happens when you are what you say you are.*
Discovery happens when you put your all into what you do.
Discovery happens when what you own is less important.
Discovery happens when you open yourself to change.*
Discovery happens when you allow yourself time.
Discovery happens when you make room for your creativity.
Discovery happens in a quiet room or a busy street.*
Discovery happens when you least expect it.*
Discovery happens when you sharpen your senses.
Discovery happens when you expand your awareness.*
Discovery happens when you reach for new relationships.*
Discovery happens when you appreciate those around you.
Discovery happens when you learn from your mistakes.
Discovery happens when you take a new pathway.*
Discovery happens all around you.
Be part of it-be one with it.
Discovery happens
Discovery discovers
and
You will discover yourself.

This poem is called “Pathways of Discovery” and written by Dorothy L. Nolte who is a consultant for parenting and home-education.  It influenced my beliefs, attitudes, and life itself.  If I didn’t read this poem, my life would be completely different and I wouldn’t have anything that I have now.  This poem gives me a chance to look back over my past life and a little clue as to how I can enjoy my life and love myself.

Discovery happens when you are what you say you are.
I hate myself/No one sees me as an individual

In the elementary school, I was teased by other friends because I was much shorter than others.  Some of them called me a baby, and some others made fun of my clothes and shoes because they were like a kindergartner’s.  I hated myself, being the shortest student in my class, being different from other girls, and being pointed out because of my height.  The only thing I wanted was to be the same as other friends.

In the fifth grade, a new young teacher, Mr. Noshino, regularly changed our seats to make us meet other friends in his classroom, and there was a set of the desk and chair which were made smaller for lower grades.  One day, the tallest boy in my classroom got the desk and chair and he argued about them because they didn’t fit him.  Mr. Noshino grabbed the set, brought it to me, and said, “Miss Kushihashi, the set is enough for you.”  He just switched my regular sized desk and chair set to the smaller set without asking my opinion.  He had never exchanged a desk-chair set before.  I felt insulted in front of all other friends and thought, “I can’t believe he did that to me. He must not be a teacher!  I am sorry, but I am leaving after this class period is done.”  As soon as the teacher left the classroom after the bell rang, I left school and went back to my house which was five minutes away from the school.  

When I got home, my grandmother looked at me surprisingly and listened calmly what happened at the school instead of asking me a specific reason why I came home.  I felt protected from everything and believed she was the only one who could understand my feelings and thoughts.  About forty minutes later, my hated teacher, Mr. Nisho, called my grandmother and asked her why I left school.  His phone call made me more upset: “How stupid he is! He didn’t even realize what he did to me and how I felt.  Now he blamed me. Fine! He can say anything he wants now, but he is going to be in a trouble when my grandfather and my parents find out about this.”

I grew up in “a family of educators.”  My grandfather on my father’s side was a Japanese literature teacher and a well-known chairman of the board of education in my city after his retirement of the teaching position.  Like my grandfather, my father also teaches Japanese literature at a public high school.  My mother teaches all subjects in a public elementary school and sometimes works with handicapped students.  Several other relatives are also teachers or educators in my city.  It didn’t surprise me even if I had several teachers in my school who were students of my grandpa and friends of my parents.  Therefore, they invariably called me, treated me, and saw me as “a granddaughter of the education board chairman” or “a daughter of Mr. or Mrs. Kushihashi.”   Mr. Nishino was one of the teachers who treated me as a daughter of Mrs. Kushihashi, not as myself because my mother was one of his senior guidance teachers.

After I left school because of his rude behavior, he was freaked out and worried about being rumored to have treated “a daughter of Mrs. Kushihashi” badly.  At that night, he came over to my house to explain to my parents about the situation and apologized to my parents for what he did to me.  Both of my parents asked him nicely to be careful about his comments and behaviors which might hurt me because I was more sensitive about my height.  Although my parents didn’t blame him at all, I just couldn’t forgive him and allow him to define himself as my teacher.  I was offended that he did apologize profusely to my parents rather than to me for his behavior.

Because of teasing and being seen not as an individual, I didn’t have any self-esteem and self-confidence.  Whatever I wear, they wouldn’t be good on me because I am short.  Whatever I do well and my best, nobody would evaluate me as my own work and an individual success.  Everyone would think that my parents lead me to succeed.  I hated to go shopping, take pictures with my friends, and work hard at school.  My height turned to my complex, and it stuck into my mind for a long time until one of my best friends, Eriko, said, “You wouldn’t be yourself, if you weren’t short.”  Her words made me consider what “being myself” means to me.  I tried to listen to my true voice in the bottom line of my mind.  Finally, I realized that I had been tired of comparing myself to others and missed so many things due to too much caring about my height.

Discovery happens when you open yourself to change.
Going to Blair, Nebraska

When I was a second-year student in my high school, Seishin Girl’s High School, a friend of mine, Aiko, asked me to apply to the summer exchange program with her.  It was a popular program provided by the bilingual education office in my high school.  A teacher took fifteen students to the twin city, Blair, Nebraska for three weeks every summer.  I wasn’t going to apply to the program even though I was interested in it because I didn’t think that I had a good English to pass the exam and selection.  However, all spots weren’t full and any students could go if they turned in the application form to the office.

Accidentally, I got a change to visit Blair and spend a good time with my host family, especially my host sister, Joanna Marek, who graduated from my college in 2004.  Before I went to Blair, I have studied English for five years; however, I could only say “Yes” and “No” and make barely the basic affirmative sentences.  When I couldn’t understand whatever my host family said, I just nodded and smiled.  You know, smiling never leads people to be in a big trouble.  I still remembered the awkward conversation that I had with my host mother.  My host mother, Kate, asked me, “Would you like some tea?” and I said, “Yes” and answered her correctly.  She asked me again, “What kinds of flavors do you like?” and I answered back to her, “Yes.”  You can imagine how hard having conversations was; however, the Mareks always tried to understand what I was trying to say and never stopped asking questions in easy English about myself, my family, and my culture.  “I wish I could speak English more fluently.  If my English is better, I could tell my host family more about myself, my family, and anything they want to know.”—I repeated saying this again and again on the flight back to Japan.  I promised myself that I would apply the one-year exchange program to go back to Blair, establish the relationship with my host family, and learn more about American culture.  No matter how difficult being apart from my family and friends in Japan is, taking classes in a second language is, and adapting another culture and new relationships are, I just wanted to see the Mareks who showed their interest toward myself and everything that belonged to me.

On September 27, 1999, I passed the English acquisition exam and selection for the one-year exchange program.  “Yes, I did it! I made it!”—That was only thing I could say to my parents on the phone right after I heard the news that I was chosen as the only student who could spend a year at Blair High School in Nebraska.  When I got a ticket for studying abroad, I was proud of myself and thought that maybe there is no dream that doesn’t come true.

Discovery happens in a quiet room or a busy street.
Mom’s letter

On July 22, 2000, I arrived at my host family’s house in Blair and opened my suitcase.  There was the doll looking at me as if she wanted me to take her out from the suitcase.  It was the first doll that my mom sewed in her life.  The doll had different thickness of the legs and arms, wore a ragged skirt, and looked at me with a frown, but I could tell how hard my mom worked on sewing this doll for me.  When I pulled the doll out from the corner of my suitcase, a letter was dropped from the front pocket of the doll’s skirt.  I opened up the letter written in a familiar handwriting:

Dear Tomoko,
You finally left home and went to America—far away from here.  Now I realize that you are already old enough to be independent and make your own decision of your life.  I am very proud of you spending your senior year in the U.S.  Please learn a lot of things through experiencing American culture, studying at American high school, meeting new people, etc.  Of course, you will face the difficulties so many times.  I want you to keep working hard and do your best toward everything you have to deal with.  But, don’t forget!—to enjoy yourself and different culture and appreciate people around you.  I trust you and believe that you will be successful—because you are a daughter of your dad and mom.  Do your best!! I am always with you…
- Mom

Large tears didn’t allow me to finish reading the letter from my mom.  Neither I was homesick nor happy about the letter, but tears just kept falling fast on my cheeks.  I couldn’t even wipe my tears away.  

Trusting, independent, caring, encouraging, and responsible—these words mainly define my mom’s personality, identity, and her life itself.  My mom is nothing like other mothers who work in the day time, cook every meal, and manage household jobs.  My mom stopped being a “normal” mother when she had an operation for cancer when she was thirty-five years old.  After her release from the hospital, she told me, “I realized my life is limited—who knows when I will die, of course I don’t know.  So, I decided to do everything I want because I don’t want to miss anything important or exciting by forcing myself to be only a mother and teacher.”  Now, my mom travels abroad with her friends a couple times a year, goes shopping and swimming every weekend, quits doing almost all of housekeeping jobs.  Also she becomes a professional to cook frozen foods.  “Is there any law that forces me to fix supper for you guys?  Sorry, I am not your chef.  If you want to eat better and more delicious food, pay your chef at a restaurant.”—this is also her habit of saying.

Although my mom figured out that being a “normal” mother is waste of her time, she considers being an elementary school teacher as a huge important portion of her life.  She has been always caring about her students, thinking about the exciting classroom activities, and enjoying herself to teach kids in the lower grades for twenty-four years.  She has taught handicapped children sometimes.  When one of her unstable students got very angry and bit her neck, she showed me a bite-spot and made a joke about what the student did even though it looked very painful.  She loves working with little kids and has much confidence toward her job as a teacher.  She always says that she will retire from teaching when it becomes difficult for her to do forward upward circling on the bar in PE class.

Discovery happens when you least expect it.
My Dad is my darling!

“I wish my dad were yours.”—my dad is popular among my friends, especially girls.  One of my good friends told me that my dad would be a dream husband for many girls who want to work in the future because he manages household jobs.  But sad to say, “He is my ‘darling’ and I am his ‘princess’ because he calls me so.  He is always mine and I will get married with a man like my dad.”  I believe that my dad is a model man and dream husband.  He loves teaching his high school students, keeps a loose rein on me, tries to spend much time with me, and never hesitates to say “thank you” to me.  And my dad has been always supportive of my goals and dreams and encouraged me to be free-spirit.  When I was thinking about attending college in the U.S. instead of in Japan, my dad professed that he would be satisfied with any decision I came to.  “Remember, your life is all yours, not mine.  Do whatever you want, be confident in your beliefs, and own responsibility toward your decision.”—His words had an influence on my decision to go back to the U.S. again and study a specific area interesting to me.  My dad isn’t only accommodative to me, but also to my family.

When I was eighteen years old, my grandma has decided to take her eternal vacation and sit back, travel around the world, and enjoy whatever she wanted to do because she forced herself to limit her life opportunities.  She spent almost all of her time on doing housework, being a faithful wife, taking care of her children and grandchildren, and supporting all family members.  After my grandma passed away, the faces of my neighbors and other relatives clouded with anxiety wondering who would be cooking and doing housework in behalf of her.  Everyone thought that my mom would have to own extra work; however, my dad carried the ball for almost all of housekeeping jobs.  Now, after he gets home and eats supper, he washes all used dishes one by one without the use of an untrustworthy dish-washer.  Next to cleaning up the kitchen, he starts holding the laundries as he watches TV and collecting everyone’s dirty clothes every night. [In Japan, it’s usual to do laundry everyday.]  He throws garbage away on Tuesdays and Fridays and goes grocery shopping with my mom every weekend.  Other people feel sorry to my dad for doing all kinds of housework besides teaching, but he seems to manage the compatibility of teaching and housekeeping very well.  He shows appreciation toward my mom, my brother, and me being healthy, independent, and happy.  “See, he is the best dad in the world.  And, now you can tell why I would marry a man like my dad.”—Having such an encouraging and supportive dad allows me to spend my college life more fortunately and peacefully in the U.S far away from my home.  

Discovery happens when expand your awareness.
My value judgment

“What’s wrong with people around me?”—I became aware of something bothers me in daily life at Wartburg in the first year.  When I was a freshman, I didn’t know a lot of American students or other international students, so I tended to spend much time with other Japanese students.  Also, having a Japanese boyfriend on campus caused me to shut off from the rest of the student body.  After about a half year passed, I found myself getting sick of hanging out with the Japanese students and tried to spend less time with them.  “Why the Japanese students here are distracting me so much?  Maybe because they are much different from my friends back home and my values.  They care about their grades and compare themselves to others too much!!”  Many of the Japanese students at Wartburg tend to compete with other Japanese for the number of A’s and American friends, the average of GPA, and the hours of sleep.  They seem to believe that getting higher grades is the most successful and valuable for college students, at least for them.  “What are they making a comparison for?  Everyone at college studies a specific area which he or she is interested in.  How can they compare and compete with a person who is majoring in a completely different subject?  What kinds of criterion make it possible for them to evaluate who is successful?”   Some of them always compare how long they slept the previous night with how long others did.  Here is my guess at the thinking process of some Japanese students who always want to draw a comparison with others:

Having less sleep means they study more than other students do.  The hours of studying reflect their grades and GPA averages.  Being an “A student” enables to them to feel superior to others and define themselves as a successful and honored student.  And also, having more American friends refers to their better English to establish friendships.

I never thought that only studying hard to get good grades leads them to succeed as a college student and also a person.  I will never think so.  If they really want to focus on only studying, it is not a good reason to come to the U.S.  I am not saying that getting good grades is pointless; however, I feel like there are more important things which they should emphasize on.  Campus activities, weekend fun, and true friendships—I believe that these experiences allow college students to enrich their lives and have a chance to realize other significance such as cultural understanding and appreciation of diversity, through the experiences on campus.  Being an international student is one of the advantages to catch those elements for enhancing human life experiences.

By trying to distance myself from other Japanese students, I relieved my discomfort and somehow figured out the importance of having my own value judgment.  “Whatever other Japanese students believe and value, it’s not my business.  Whatever I believe, it’s not others’ business neither.” Now, I relieve my discomfort and I am no longer bothered by spending time with the students.  “Do my best as much as I can to feel satisfactory for the consequences and results.  Even though a teacher doesn’t give me A’s for assignments and exams, I would never regret over the results as long as I did my best on them.  Try to work hard to give A’s to my own work and praise myself.  How much I compare between my grade and other friends’, my grade is mine and their grades are theirs, not mine.”—This is one of my lessons that I have achieved throughout the relationship with other Japanese students at Wartburg.

Discovery happens when you reach for new relationships.
Writing/Reading/Speaking Lab and friendship

The writing consultants, Justin and Bilal talked to me when I was typing a paper in the library.  They asked me if I was interested in working at the Writing Center from the following year as a consultant.  They said, “We thought that you would be one of good writers and encouraged you to work at the lab next year.”  I didn’t know how serious they were when they came up to me at the first time.  When every time I saw either one of them on campus, they asked me whether I had already gotten the application form or not—that was when I realized that they must be serious about that.  I asked my advisers, parents, and friends what they thought.  Everyone told me that it would be a great experience and help to improve my English a lot.  At the same time, a little bird told me that some of the Japanese students were saying behind my back that my English wasn’t good enough to be a consultant.  “Well, think about it.  Are you gonna miss such a great chance to improve your language skills?  Justin, Bilal, and other consultants asked me directly to work at the lab.  Are you gonna miss working with such encouraging friends?  I must be glad that I was recommended as a consultant.” I persuaded myself not to listen to whatever the Japanese students said and believed in myself, and finally I turned the application into the associate of Writing/Reading/Speaking Lab, Lois Trachte.

High pressure, responsibility, and tension—these words have stuck in my mind, and I didn’t feel comfortable toward working at the lab as a consultant and an independent study for a while.  However, encouraging staff members relieved all of my anxiety with their heartfelt and caring words, big smiles, and understanding of me.  One of the peers, Emily Carson, is one of the best American friends who are good at bring out the best in me.  She makes me feel welcomed and free to talk about myself and ask for some help and advice.  Before working at the lab, I had writing conferences with Emily a few times as a client and knew about her socially, not personally.  The consultant-client relationship wasn’t enough for me, probably for her as well, to establish a friendship between us since I am very observing and perceptive and need a lot of time to get along with others and reveal my real intention.

At the beginning of November, 2004, I went to St. Cloud with other eleven presenters for the MWCA Writing Conference.  On the way to St. Cloud, Emily asked me about my boyfriend in Japan.  At that time, I was going to break up with him because I figured out that he wasn’t the right person for me and got tired of his negative attitudes and hearing his complaints about his job.  “Well, I really want to tell her about it.  But, I don’t know how well I can explain my feelings and the problem between me and my boyfriend because I have to tell her in English, not in Japanese.”  I believed that she was the person who I could trust to open my personal feelings, so I started telling about my situation with my boyfriend.  That was the first time I have ever revealed my private emotions to my friend in English.  Emily empathized with my emotions and thoughts, gave me some advice, and shared her personal feeling as well.  Once, I expressed my true self, something has moved on and changed within my minds and beliefs.  I felt more comfortable to tell her whatever I thought and happened to me.  Every time I speak to her, she gives me smiles, energies, and comfort.  I love talking to other people, making them laughs, seeing them smiling, but I never try to talk a lot in English as I do in Japanese.  That has caused me the biggest frustration in my college life.  “If I should have trusted my English and other friends to share my feelings before, I could have more chances to get along with other friends easily and establish the intimate relationships with them.”—I should have noticed earlier that I made an invisible barrier between me and others by shutting them away from my personal issues and pretending to be a happy person all the time.  Now I met a trusting friend, Emily, and shared my private relationships and experiences with her.  I really hope the friendship between me and her will be getting closer and closer and be never ending.  I remembered my favorite words make the opportunity at the writing lab and the friendship more special:
Something important is hard to find beyond your expectation.
When you find something important, you promise that you will cherish it.
Something important is also easy to lose against your expectation.
When you lose something important, you promise that you will look for it.
But, something more important is neither to promise nor to look for.
Something more important is keeping something important respectfully.

Discovery happens when you take a new pathway.
Loving myself

Many friends often say to me that they want my strength and bravery such as having self-confidence; achieving my goals; getting various opportunities; and building my own way in life.  I never define myself as totally strong or brave because I know what my weaknesses and flaws are.  However, I accept them as parts of myself or elements for being myself.  “You do like yourself a lot, don’t you?”—A lot of my friends are surprised how much I love and trust myself.  “Of course, I do love myself.  If I don’t trust myself in my attitudes and beliefs, who else will trust me? Everyone is supposed to be a person who loves oneself the most.”—It took a very long time to reach such a positive way of thinking.  Now, I take my short height as my individuality instead of my complex.  I appreciate to be a short person and realize that everyone should be unique and different from others. The acknowledgement of uniqueness and individuality allows me to take myself as exactly who I am now and also love myself.  When I recognized the importance of having more self-esteem, I tried to bring my real intention from the bottom of my mind—being aware of what I really like, value, disagree, and feel comfortable or bothered.  Once I realized my true and pure intention ignoring general respectability or social reputation, I could consider it as my own ruler of value judgment.  By following my interests, thoughts, motivations based on my sense of value, I discovered that there are many people who provide me such excellent opportunities, encourage my decisions, estimate my abilities, personalities, and love me as an individual.  

Loving myself will extend my future opportunities and interpersonal relationships.  If I still hate myself and have less self-confidence, I would have a completely different life.  I would never know how influential and encouraging my parents are; how important having a stable sense of value is; how precious meeting encouraging people and establishing friendships are; and finally how valuable finding myself is.  “I don’t know for sure who I am now is really who I am.  I have no idea when I will discover my true self.  Maybe I will never find myself… But as long as I feel comfortable with myself, I will stay the same as who I am now and just wait for next time when I have to consider what ‘being myself’ means to me and open myself to be changed again.”

Tomoko Kushihashi '06 is an English major at Wartburg College.