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Japan Forward
6 hours ago
- Sport
- Japan Forward
Inspired by 'Just a Man'
このページを 日本語 で読む JAPAN Forward has launched "Ignite," a series to share the voices of students in Japan in English. Inspired by their own experiences, what do they see beyond our obvious differences, disabilities, and insecurities? Individually and collectively, today's students will shape our global future. Let's listen. This fifth essay introduces another winning work of the Institute for International Business Communication (IIBC) high school student English essay contest. In the following essay, high school student Shigeo Nonaka credits a perfect stranger with one leg and twin children for helping him overcome his fears and insecurities. The encounter, in Vietnam, changed his outlook and may change yours. Fifth in the Series, 'Ignite' Shigeo Nonaka, Winner of the 2024 IIBC Superior Essay Award for his English essay. Always worried and embarrassed about what people think of me, I couldn't be friends with the ball. The sweltering heat in Vietnam distorted the air in the distance. With the enemy in front of me, I had to beat him to a pulp somehow. As I had stylishly demonstrated during recess, I straddled the ball a couple of times, got my feet tangled up, and fell over. The rubber chips of the artificial turf bounced off into my mouth, which felt disgusting. I looked up to see my adversary smirking with a thin smile that held a touch of disdain. "Embarrassing," I thought, "I'm done." I wanted to run away already. So I quit the Japanese football club and joined a team with only Vietnamese players. I crouched down between the messy protective netting, and it was a small futsal-size court. A red motorbike was perched at the foot of a lamppost outside. It was a large one, carrying what looked like iron bars on either side. A small man with a shaved head was carrying two twins in the red uniform of the Vietnamese national football team on a motorcycle. They were a father and his kids, very Vietnamese. However, the moment the man got off the bike and put his feet on the ground, my eyes were glued to his lower body. I could see the ground where his left leg should be, and I realized the man was missing one leg. He was approaching me, flanked by crutches that I had earlier mistaken for iron bars on the bike's decoration. "Nihonjin-desu-ka?" the man asked in Japanese. When I said yes, he smiled and said, "Nakata!" — a Japanese footballer from some time ago. The man's name was Duc. He was one half of a conjoined twin, so he had only one leg. He became famous after undergoing surgery in Japan, which is why he could speak Japanese. When I was surprised by this unexpected encounter, he asked me to practice passing together. "Nakata! Pass!" he laughed. He stood confidently in front of the goal on crutches. And when I hesitantly kicked a soft pass to him, he slapped me with a powerful pass, as if to kick away my hesitation. I responded with a strong ball this time. As we exchanged passes, his face came alive. His passes were inevitably rough, but he didn't care about that — he simply loved the game. Seeing him happy made me feel ashamed of having been reserved toward him. Before he is disabled, he is just a man. He bounced around on crutches, gamely chasing the ball and passing to me. His honest, powerful passes seemed to inspire me to be myself. I felt the impact of the ball through my ankles and across my body and thought, "I love football." When we finished practicing passes, he said, "I haven't had this much fun playing football in a long time, Nakata!" He then got on his bike and dashed back home with the twins. Outside, where thousands of power lines were tangled, a horde of motorcycles roared in disorder, and he was among them. He was able to bring his children to this futsal court because, despite his missing leg, he was allowed to drive a motorcycle. In Japan, people are protected by regulations. But in Vietnam, this free-spiritedness allows people like Duc to live freely. From that day on, we played football together every week. Six years later, I'm in Japan now. I have retired from football, just as Nakata did. [And] I have found something new that I like. You're the one who taught me to love something. Just the other day, I saw you again on the cinema screen in a film about your life. So, I'm writing this now because I can't help the memories from pouring out of me. You look a little older now, but you're smiling like you did then. Your twins, Fuji and Sakura, are much taller now. They grew up fine, didn't they? You must be a good dad. Well, even in the cinema, you're still just a man to me. But hey, because of you, I can walk on these two legs today, Duc. Shigeo Nonaka is a student at Seigakuin Junior & Senior High School in Tokyo. Upon receiving the IIBC Superior Essay Award, he commented: This essay was a challenge for me. I deliberately used a slightly casual colloquial style to portray the way of life of a man named Duc in the Vietnamese landscape. Later, I left Vietnam, lived in Myanmar, encountered a military coup, and returned to Japan without even saying goodbye to my friends. I learned that peace is not something to be taken for granted. Because I know the breathing of people who live strong lives within barriers, I want to put that into words and convey it. Hopefully, that is a small step towards creating a society without borders. I am grateful that my humble thoughts were accepted, and I will continue to learn and grow. Author: Shigeo Nonaka Seigakuin Junior & Senior High School このページを 日本語 で読む
Japan Forward
13-07-2025
- Japan Forward
Opening the 'Power of 'Why'
このページを 日本語 で読む JAPAN Forward has launched "Ignite," a series to share the voices of students in Japan in English. What do they see beyond our obvious differences, disabilities, and insecurities? Individually and collectively, today's students have the power to shape our global future. Let's listen. This fourth essay introduces another winning work of the Institute for International Business Communication (IIBC) high school student English essay contest. In the following essay, Lynne Mizushima, a high school student in Kanagawa Prefecture, recounts the disruption she felt at the way a foreign exchange student staying with her family embraced life to the fullest. In addition to learning about Japan, the visitor enthusiastically shared her own culture and values, leaving her host family with a new perspective on the meaning of "cultural exchange." Fourth in the Series, 'Ignite' Dark clouds hung over us and raindrops pattered on our umbrellas as we approached Enoshima Beach. It was an unusually cold day in June and I shivered as the wind chilled my damp clothes. The next moment, my friend gave me a mischievous smile. "Let's swim in the ocean!" I gaped at her. She would surely catch a cold. However, she ignored my pleas and sprinted into the water before I knew it. I was left stranded on the beach yelling at her to come back, helpless and exasperated. It was only after twenty minutes that she finally came back to shore with her clothes dripping wet. She's crazy , I thought to myself. "Why? Why did you go in?" She met my incredulous eyes with a smile and replied, "Because, fear is temporary but regret is forever." She explained that she would have regretted not going in despite the weather, and told me she would remember this moment forever, even when her hair turns gray. While I was hesitant in accepting that reasoning, I conceded that I too would likely remember this moment for the rest of my life. Lynne Mizushima, Winner of the 2024 IIBC Excellence Award for her English essay. This is the absolute whirlwind that is my Moroccan friend Noha, who my family hosted as part of an exchange program last summer. Lively and unpredictable yet one of the most considerate people I have ever encountered, Noha left a profound impact on me during her two-week stay in Japan. "Let me take you to a Moroccan restaurant," she said to me and my friends one day. I was perplexed by her sudden proposal. "Why? You're in Japan, wouldn't you rather eat Japanese food?" She eagerly explained that she wanted to introduce us to Moroccan food. At the restaurant she taught us Arabic words like shukran which means "thank you" and I tried Moroccan dishes like Briwats (a triangle-shaped savory pastry) and Tagine (a slow-cooked stew). Over the course of that dinner, I gained insight and understanding about Moroccan cuisine and culture. I recognized that Noha was not only eager to immerse herself in the Japanese experience, but also excited to share her own cultural heritage with us. Furthermore, I was struck with the realization that all the times I had been abroad, I had always been solely intent on absorbing foreign culture. Noha inspired me to devote more effort to sharing my own culture on future occasions. "I want to get flowers for everyone in our class," Noha said to me the evening before her departure. "Why? Is that even possible?" I was in disbelief at her grand and ambitious idea. She said, "I just really want to thank everyone." While I still had doubts, we went to a flower shop and picked out over 50 flowers of different kinds. We brought home an enormous bouquet which stunned both my parents. I then opened my eyes the next day to see that Noha had spent the entire night neatly wrapping the flowers one by one. I was in absolute awe. Noha was one of the most unique people I had ever encountered, and I followed nearly everything she did with one question: "Why?" To my conventional ways of thinking, her actions often left me baffled. However, uncovering her underlying rationale helped me understand and accept her actions completely. It is common for people to judge others when they are acting in a way that is not normal to them, especially if they are of different backgrounds. However, asking a simple "Why?" can alter conventional thinking and offer fresh perspectives. Noha was wild but always very sure of her actions. She had pride in her cultural heritage and didn't fail to show it. [And] she had great kindness in her heart and would always find a way of expressing it. She always took action in what she believed to be important, and spending time with her completely transformed the norms I previously held. I feel very lucky to have met someone like her, and I hope to be equally inspiring to others in my own unique way in the future. Lynne Mizushima is a student at Keio Shonan Fujisawa Junior and Senior High School in Kanagawa Prefecture. She delivered this comment upon receiving the IIBC Excellence Award for her essay submission: I am truly honored to receive the Excellence Award. In this essay, I wrote about my memories of a friend from Morocco whom I met during an exchange program. Being exposed to different cultures and ways of thinking has greatly changed my own values. I am happy to be able to share my precious memories with her with so many people. In writing the essay, I went through a lot of trial and error to make sure that the reader would find it interesting. Improving the essay was fun and a very good experience. Finally, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to the teachers who guided me. Author: Lynne Mizushima Student, Keio Shonan Fujisawa Junior and Senior High School このページを 日本語 で読む
Japan Forward
06-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Japan Forward
Friends: Beyond the Differences
このページを 日本語 で読む JAPAN Forward has launched "Ignite," a series to share the voices of students in Japan in English. What do they see beyond our differences? Individually and collectively, today's students will shape our global future. Let's listen. This third essay introduces another winning work of the Institute for International Business Communication (IIBC) high school student English essay contest. In the following essay, high school student Anna Koga recounts the hurt she felt when her friend's way of saying goodbye wasn't as intense as her own. She recalls in an essay the emotional experience of learning to understand the differences among friends and overcoming the hurt. Third in the Series, 'Ignite' "Thank you for everything," I said, holding back tears, "I will never forget the amazing days I spent with you." I stood in front of the security gate in Pittsburgh International Airport. "I'm going to... miss you... so much," I managed to say between sobs. Clear sky, fresh air and a nice smell of morning coffee. Everything was too perfect to say goodbye to Cathy, my host sister. It wasn't our first goodbye. A year earlier, Cathy came to my house in Japan as a homestay student. Following a wonderful week, she went back home to Pittsburgh, after which our friendship grew. Filled with emotions, welling up with tears, I waited for her to say something. Compared to me crying my eyes out, she had a much brighter outlook on our parting. "Yeah," she chirped, "but I can't wait to see you again! Have a safe flight, Anna!" A quick hug and she gently urged me to go to the gate. Anna Koga is the winner of the IIBC Grand Prize (2024). If I am being honest with myself, and you the reader, I was disappointed. I had always believed that it is only polite to follow the Japanese cultural custom of nagori oshimu ― saying goodbye reluctantly. I expected her to be just as reluctant. When I was walking into the line at the gate, my head filled with many questions. "Isn't she sad that I'm leaving? Won't she miss me even a little? Did I do something wrong?" I turned to see her face, but she was gone. Even after three in-flight movies and a long, restless nap on the airplane, I was still thinking about this ordeal. Perhaps she wasn't very moved because she no longer cared about me. But as soon as I touched down, she texted me "I miss you so much already!" Why now?! After some research online, I found that many fellow Japanese have been in the same situation. Not only that, but I also read a blog written by an American woman living in Japan, introducing her experiences of parting with Japanese friends. What surprised me more was that she felt very awkward when Japanese showed reluctance to leave. This reminded me of [Geert] Hofstede's cultural dimensions theory on differences in cultures across countries and how those relate to values and behavior. According to the theory, Japan is a collectivistic country, meaning that people value connections and crave sustained connections with others. This accounts for the nagori oshimu custom. It is a display of our wish to remain together. In contrast, countries like America are individualistic, and people value independence. It might be true that cultural differences lead people to have different values. This past year, my host sister didn't text me as much as my other long-distance friends. Despite this, I neither think she doesn't care about me, nor do I believe people in individualistic countries don't care. When telling her that economics would prevent me from being able to visit her as I had planned, her family agreed to let me stay at her house. She then planned the entire trip for me. She took me to many places and let me try anything I wanted. She stuck by my side and introduced me to her amazing friends. Why would she have done this if she didn't care about me? Regardless of the culture, everyone has their own life to live and their own sense of values to guide them. Having the exact same sense should not be the thing that maintains a friendship. If what you and your friends value the most is different, even if that changes, the memories of the good times you spent together stay. And that's all you need to stay connected. I'm sure that I will have various people as my friends, and it may not be easy for me or them to keep in touch. When that time comes, I will remember my experiences throughout each friendship. And in the end, even if Cathy doesn't cry, you can be sure that I will. Anna Koga is a student at Saitama Municipal Omiya International Secondary School. Upon receiving the IIBC Grand Prize, she stated: "I am very honored to receive the Grand Prize. "This essay is about the differences in values I experienced when interacting with my American friends, and the frustration I felt about it. While writing the essay, I thought about the relationship between differences in values and friendship, and was able to find my own answer to the question, 'What is needed for friendship that transcends differences?' "I would like to continue to build rich human relationships by interacting with people from all over the world, without being bound by 'differences.' In particular, I would like to express my sincere gratitude to my teachers who taught me and to all the judges. Author: Anna Koga Saitama Municipal Omiya International Secondary School このページを 日本語 で読む
Japan Forward
29-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Japan Forward
A World of Generosity
このページを 日本語 で読む JAPAN Forward has launched "Ignite," a series to share the voices of students in Japan in English. How do they see the world, and what insights will they share with us? Individually and collectively, today's students will shape our global future. Let's listen. This second essay introduces another winning work of the Institute for International Business Communication (IIBC) high school student English essay contest. In the following essay, high school student Keinosuke Muto shares how living and making friends in a foreign country ignited his open-mindedness and cultural curiosity, and how that has affected his view and perspectives on the world. Second in the Series, 'Ignite' The scorching desert burned my skin, as my body screamed for water and food. Temptations crept into my brain, but I must close my eyes to punish myself for my daily sins rather than refresh my thirst. The word 'Ramadan' initially evoked an idea of strangeness and strictness when I first moved to Dubai, United Arab Emirates. All of these stereotypes were shattered when Mohammad, my best friend, invited me to Iftar, the grand dinner served after a day of fasting. We were about to eat dinner when Mohammed's mom suddenly asked us to hold a bag. Inside were a myriad of plates, each covered in aluminum foil, each holding in the warmth of homemade food. The mouthwatering smell of saffron rice and kebab rose from it. Mohammed's mother told us to get in the car. She held another bag, hers filled with bottled water. Genuinely confused, I asked Mohammed. "What are we doing?" "We're gonna go around and give food to people," he replied. Giving food to relatives and friends, I thought. Like Japan, in the New Year, where my aunt shares homemade mochi with my family… Mohammed's mom drove the car for a few minutes when we reached our first stop: a construction site. I was flabbergasted. Why are we stopping here? In front of a gray, half-built mansion, men in blue clothes gathered around a small table. Mohammed suddenly rolled down the window. "A-salaam Alaikum," he said merrily. Mohammed and his mother tenderly grabbed the food and water from the bags and handed it to the workers. "Thank you, thank you," they said. The next stop was a small security office. This time, my hands were moving, grabbing the wrapped food from my bag, and handing it to the officers. Broad smiles stretched across their faces. After we went around a few more stops, I asked Mohammed, "Why do you do this?" "Because it's Ramadan, the month of sharing." It was at this moment that my stereotypes about Ramadan were shattered. Ramadan wasn't just the action of fasting, it was a world of generosity and sharing with those in need. It was never a punishment, but understanding the poor and being benevolent. Keisuke Muto, a student at Makuhari Junior and Senior High School in Chiba Prefecture won the Excellence Award and America-Japan Society President's Award. He wrote about living overseas and the excitement of discovering other cultures. (©IIBC) A few weeks after Ramadan, I invited Mohammed to come to my house for a Takoyaki party. It was his first time seeing Takoyaki. He was filled with excitement as we poured the dough into the small holes. "What are we putting in the dough?" he questioned. "It's gonna be octopus," I replied. "What? No way, it's my first time!" He seemed bewildered but also exhilarated at the thought of trying something he'd never eaten before. I was glad that I conveyed to Mohammed my own culture. Fast forward 4 years, and I'm the leader of the Arabic Culture Club. We make videos about the Arab World, visit restaurants, mosques, and embassies to learn about Arabic culture. My Japanese friends ask me numerous times: "Why are you doing this?" I recall how my experiences with Mohammed shattered my biases. On that day, his actions taught me that behind a veneer of stereotypes, there's a world of fascination and beautiful culture. It was a glimpse of a world that drove me curious, one that I wanted to explore even after returning to Japan. Through my friendship with him, I learned the joy of learning and conveying cultures. Conversations at his dinner table taught me traditional Arabic foods that are rarely served in restaurants. Small talk in school immersed me in the wonders of the Arabic World. On the other hand, it was from the fun we had that Mohammed learned about Japanese culture. We had Takoyaki parties, ate at Ramen shops, and engaged in Anime talk. When conveying Japanese culture to him, I quickly learned how enjoyable conveying a culture is. I wouldn't be in the Arabic Culture Club if I were not friends with Mohammed. It was he who shaped my life. Thank you, Mohammed. Keinosuke Muto won the 2023 Excellence Award and the America-Japan Society President's Award for his English-language essay. At the time, he was a second-year high school student at Makuhari Junior and Senior High School in Chiba Prefecture. He explained his thoughts about the essay as follows: "I am very honored to receive the Excellence Award and the America-Japan Society President's Award, I wrote about my experience of iftar at my best friend's house when I was living in Dubai in the Middle East. [And] I tried hard to clearly express how I overcame the prejudices I had about Islam. Through this wonderful experience, I was able to gain a new perspective and felt the power to resolve prejudices and misunderstandings. I would like to continue to deepen my understanding of different cultures and beliefs and build rich human relationships. I would like to thank the teachers who supported me and the judges who selected me." Author: Keinosuke Muto, Student, Makuhari Junior and Senior High School, Chiba Prefecture このページを 日本語 で読む
Japan Forward
22-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Japan Forward
Be a Global Catalyst for Communications
このページを 日本語 で読む JAPAN Forward has launched "Ignite," a series to share the voices of students in Japan in English. How do they see the world, and what insights will they share with us? Individually and collectively, today's students will shape our global future. Let's listen. This first essay, along with the four that follow, introduces the winning works of the Institute for International Business Communication (IIBC) high school student English essay contest. In its 17th year, the nationwide contest has been held annually since 2009. The first essay, by Ashiya Gakuen Senior High School student Tetsu Den, follows. First in the Series, 'Ignite' In the gloomy cabin of the airplane, I was tormented by extreme nervousness. "How will I get through this three-week homestay?" My head was filled with the stories I'd read recently about other Asian people's negative experiences abroad. No sooner had we arrived than the glare of the sun was shining on our Canadian host families. Suddenly, a man wearing a blue shirt came running over, calling my name. "Hi, Tetsu! I finally found you." It was my host father. On our way home, I felt extremely uncomfortable in the awkward situation. My fatigue after the flight and the tension of meeting someone new hindered conversation with him. Finally, his first question broke the silence. "Hey, where are you from? How is life in your country?" His eager eyes and attitude showed me his tolerance and generosity. I overcame my hesitation and said, "Actually, I'm not Japanese, but I was brought up in Japan. My father is Chinese, and my mother is Korean. So, I have had some linguistic and identification problems in Japan, but my life there is fulfilling and..." Before my next words, he immediately interjected, "Wow! So do you speak four languages: English, Japanese, Chinese, and Korean?" I nodded. "That's amazing! You're so multicultural! I think that someday you'll be a diplomat." His admiration was unexpected, and his words cleared away the fog of my worries. [Then] I realized that I had been susceptible to social media stories about national biases. I had read that a lot of people overseas blamed all Asians for COVID-19, and I was braced for intolerance in Canada. Tetsu Den, winner of the Grand Prize and America-Japan Society President's Award for his English essay. Den wrote about what he learned from a homestay in Canada. (©IIBC) Before this trip, I had been struggling with my two national identities: Chinese and Korean. It was the biggest anxiety in my life. Living in Japan makes things even more complex. I've often seen examples in the morning news of the volatile relationship between these three nations – historical problems such as the territorial disputes, as well as economic matters. Sometimes in the morning, the first thing I hear isn't my parents' warm greeting but harsh criticism of China and Korea on the TV. Every time I heard such news, my heart dropped. At school in Japan, I worried about how my friends viewed me, and even when I visited China and Korea, I felt people were suspicious of my mixed heritage. To make things worse, due to COVID-19, discrimination against Asian people seemed to be fierce around the world. I thought there was no country where I could bare my complicated background freely. My host father was the first person to change that. The day after I arrived, my Canadian host father suggested we take a stroll. As we walked, I thanked him for his cheerful words in the car and explained how I had been afraid of going abroad. I told him, "The world might be prejudiced, but you're generous and fair." He thought I was flattering him and didn't think what he had said was special, but it was to me. We talked more about the cultural differences and similarities between our countries. At the end, he smiled. "You've made me realize how gullible I was. From now on I'll trust life experience over social media stories." I felt great accomplishment for rectifying his misunderstandings about Asian nations. My host father taught me that I should be proud of my diverse family history and the unique view of the world that having three home countries gives me. Also, I learned how hard it is to have an understanding free from media influence. At the same time, I realized how fair my Japanese friends have been, how unique my background is, and how blessed I am. I am convinced that any discord between nations can be relieved by communication, acceptance, and learning that we all have similar values. From now on, my life's duty is to be a global catalyst and bring people together. Tetsu Den won the 2023 Grand Prize and America-Japan Society President's Award for his English-language essay. At the time, he was a second-year student at Ashiya Gakuen Senior High School in Hyogo Prefecture. He explained his thoughts about the essay as follows: "I went to Canada this summer to study abroad as part of a school project. In this essay, I summarized my experiences of 'communication without borders' in Canada, a country known as a multinational nation, and my thoughts about my own background before studying abroad. When I wrote the essay, I seriously considered how I should be as an international person from now on, and was able to recognize once again the greatness of communication between different cultures. I am grateful to everyone who gave me such a fulfilling experience." Author: Tetsu Den, Ashiya Gakuen Senior High School, Hyogo Prefecture このページを 日本語 で読む
