He thought his father had abandoned him. Then he took a DNA test
Raised by his Japanese mother, his classmates and neighbours called him 'gaijin' – meaning foreigner – and told him to 'go back to your country'.
'My childhood was terrible,' said Yamamoto, 73. 'Everybody was
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NZ Herald
19 hours ago
- NZ Herald
He thought his father had abandoned him. Then he took a DNA test
For most of his life, Akihiko Yamamoto believed his American father had abandoned him in Japan. Raised by his Japanese mother, his classmates and neighbours called him 'gaijin' – meaning foreigner – and told him to 'go back to your country'. 'My childhood was terrible,' said Yamamoto, 73. 'Everybody was
1News
a day ago
- 1News
How your emoji use reveals your age
Are your smiley faces sarcastic and is your thumbs up signal aggressive? If not you might just be a Boomer. By Brittany Ferdinands. Emojis, as well as memes and other forms of short-form content, have become central to how we express ourselves and connect online. Yet as meanings shift across different contexts, so too does the potential for misunderstanding. A senior colleague of mine recently encountered some commentary about the 'slightly smiling' face emoji: 🙂 They approached me, asking whether it represented joy, as they had assumed, or if it had a more ominous meaning. As a chronically-online millennial, who unironically identifies as a gen Z, I bore the news that I, along with most younger internet users, only ever use it sarcastically. ADVERTISEMENT 'It doesn't actually signify happiness – more so fake happiness, or dry humour,' I explained. I also told them how the thumbs up emoji is often interpreted as passive aggressive, and that the only time I'd use the laughing-crying ('face with tears of joy') emoji is under duress. Teen freaked out by Boomer's attempt at positivity. (Source: Despite seeming like a universal language – and sometimes they do function that way – emojis can be at once more vague, and more specific, than words. That's because you can't separate the meaning of a smiley from the person who sent it, nor from the person receiving it. Markers of age and identity While emojis were originally developed in the late 1990s by Japanese artist Shigetaka Kurita to add emotional nuance to text-based messaging, their function has since evolved. Today, emojis are not just emotional cues; they also operate as cultural symbols and markers of identity. ADVERTISEMENT Research published last year highlights how these symbols can create subtle communication barriers across age groups. For instance, a study of Chinese-speaking WeChat users found younger and older people differed not only in how frequently they used emojis, but in how they interpreted and aesthetically preferred them. A study of Chinese-speaking WeChat users found younger and older people differed in both emoji use and interpretation. (Source: One emoji that's increasingly becoming a distinct marker of age is the previously mentioned laughing-crying emoji (😂). Despite being named Oxford Dictionary's 2015 word of the year, and frequently topping the most-used emoji charts, this smiley is on the decline among gen Z – who decided in 2020 that it wasn't cool anymore. Instead, they prefer the skull emoji (💀), which is shorthand for the gen Z catch phrase 'I'm dead'. This means something is funny (not that they're literally deceased). Such shifts may understandably be perplexing for older generations who are unfamiliar with evolving norms and slang. A digital body language Emojis can also take on distinct meanings on different platforms. They are embedded within 'platform vernaculars': the ever-evolving styles of communication that are unique to specific digital spaces. ADVERTISEMENT For example, a thumbs up emoji (👍) from your boss at work is seemingly more acceptable, and less anxiety inducing, than from a romantic interest you've just sent a risky text to. A thumbs up? (Source: This dilemma was echoed in a recent viral TikTok by user @kaitlynghull, which prompted thousands to comment about their shared confusion over emoji use in the workplace. This reaction highlights a deeper communication issue. A survey of 10,000 workers across the US, France, Germany, India and Australia, conducted by YouGov and software company Atlassian, found 65% of workers used emojis to convey tone in the workplace. But while 88% of gen Z workers thought emojis were helpful, this dropped to 49% for baby boomers and gen X. The survey concluded some emojis can be interpreted in multiple ways, and these double meanings aren't always safe for work. In with the 'it' crowd ADVERTISEMENT Another example of platform-specific emoji use comes from social media content creators who deploy emojis to curate a certain aesthetic. Under the Tiktok tag #emojicombo, you'll find thousands of videos showcasing emoji combinations that provide aesthetic 'inspo'. These combinations are used to represent different online identities or subcultures, such as 'that girl', 'clean girl' or 'old money'. Users may include the combinations in their captions or videos to signal their personal style, or to express the mood or vibe of their online persona. In this way, the emojis help shape how they present themselves on the platform. This example of emoji use is also a display of symbolic capital. It signals social alignment, in an environment where a user's visibility (and popularity) is determined by their platform fluency. Emojis, then, aren't just tools for expression. They are badges of identity that index where a user stands in the online cultural hierarchy. There's a fragmentation in how we relate A single emoji might communicate irony, sincerity or sarcasm, depending on who is using it, what platform they're using it on, and what generation they belong to. ADVERTISEMENT This gap points to deeper questions around online access and participation, and the systems that shape online cultures. And when the meaning of an emoji is platform-dependent and socially stratified, it can become as much about fitting in with a cultural in-group than conveying emotion. Brittany Ferdinands is a lecturer in Digital Content Creation, Discipline of Media and Communications, University of Sydney. This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons licence.
Otago Daily Times
a day ago
- Otago Daily Times
100th birthday ‘just another day'
Timaru man Albert Hey goes through some old photos ahead of celebrating his 100th birthday tomorrow. PHOTO: CONNOR HALEY It will be "just another day" for Timaru man Albert Hey as he prepares to celebrate his 100th birthday tomorrow. Mr Hey was born at maternity home Whare Nana in Timaru on July 4, 1925. His parents and older sister lived on a small farm in Fairview which his father had won in a returned servicemen's ballot. While he was still little, the family relocated to Mosgiel and Mr Hey recalled the train journey down as his first memory. "I can also remember sitting on the wagon that was taking the furniture to our new house. We weren't allowed to sit on the back, we had to sit right up front behind the horse. "I had a normal upbringing, I started at primers when I was five and went through, that was at Mosgiel District High School and when I got to standard six I left and went to King's High School in Dunedin. It had only just recently opened then. "I had six years there and then I wanted to get a job where I could get a superannuation. I applied to the State Service Commission for a position, had interviews and then they offered me a job in Wellington at the Social Security Office." A photograph of Albert Hey from his time in the New Zealand Air Force. PHOTO: SUPPLIED At the time World War 2 was under way and having been in the ATC at school, he signed up to be a part of the New Zealand Air Force's air crew. "We had to wait as we went through in batches of 60, I went in 1941 when the war started in the Pacific. They had a series of camps, and I went to three. "The first time I went we were in three-man tents, [Sir] Ed Hillary, Ian Hobbs and myself. We had five weeks in the Cheshire camp, then went to Fareham camp which was one big hut that had the whole 60-odd of us in it. Then we went into Guernsey camp, and that was back to three-man huts." While Mr Hey was in Taieri training on Tiger Moths the war in Europe was wrapping up and soldiers were being sent back. "They said they didn't want us any more, some were discharged, and some were put on other jobs. I was put on a library duty. "After having a short course on that I was sent over to the Solomon Islands, most of the time I was at Guadalcanal. They had closed one of the bases and the librarian there just got on a plane, came back and left everything, so I was sent over to clean the library up, pack the books and list them. "It didn't take long. When I finished that, the American that was in charge of the whole area banned any further ones from going home until the island had been cleaned up." An incident with a backfiring diesel drum, that was used to light a hot plate, led to Mr Hey being medically discharged. "Some water must have got in it and it just went bang. I put my hand down to turn it off and I got scalded all over my hands, bare feet and face. "I was sent to Ardmore to get the discharge and I had to have a medical exam to do it. It ended up getting cancelled and they sent me to get an X-ray of my chest and there was a shadow there. "It was Tb [tuberculosis], which was a serious thing then because they didn't have any treatment, it was warmth, fresh air and rest. So I was sent home to Dunedin and for a start I would go see them at the Dunedin Hospital every three to six months." He said it was quite easy to adjust back to civilian life. "I knew I had to leave. When I was going to be discharged, they asked me what I wanted to do, and I was at that stage wanting to go into orchard work in Central Otago. "They looked at that and said 'but you're trained as a clerk, we're here to to rehabilitate you into the job you've got'. I was sent to an office and started work the next day, I didn't even have civilian clothes. "The bloke that was senior to me, had been in the army. He reckoned I was good, he got a raise and then recommended me for head of the department, I'd had virtually no training but I found it easy, just kept going and I always wanted the job above me." Mr Hey would work for the Social Welfare department in Dunedin, Wellington and Invercargill before eventually retiring back to Timaru to be closer to family when he was 59. He bought his first ever house on Otipua Rd after retiring, was never married and never owned a car. Possessing a keen green thumb Mr Hey spent his retirement years maintaining a big vege garden, cycling everywhere and striving to maintain a good diet and stay fit, something he believed was the key to living a long life. "You've got to eat lots of fruit and vegetables and I still try to get out and walk three times a day, that's all I can do now with my walker." Aside from trying to stay active he said he also spends his time reading through the Otago Daily Times newspaper, completing the crosswords and code crackers and keeping up with the cricket, rugby and netball. He planned to celebrate his birthday with an afternoon tea at his niece's home before returning to the rest-home he now resides at for some happy hour celebrations.
