Interview with Ms. L

"Living in Japan, I’ve realized how much people value personal space. Even among Chinese friends who have known each other for many years, it’s rare to meet up every month. Unless our children bring us together, most of the time everyone just lives their own lives, keeping in touch occasionally but not seeing each other often.

When it comes to raising children, though, I absolutely emphasize Chinese language and culture. Having spent so much time around Japanese families, I find their way of living a bit difficult to accept. For example, my mother married a Japanese man. In that household, I saw clearly how things worked: the father would buy groceries—vegetables, ice cream, everyday food—and those items were shared. But when the children bought something, it had to be labeled with their name in the communal fridge, or they would buy a small fridge for their own room and keep their things there.

That separation made me uncomfortable. In Japanese families there’s always this strong sense of distance. Even when parents grow old, they are usually sent to nursing homes or community care centers rather than being cared for at home. I remember a case near my own house: an elderly woman living alone in a detached home passed away, and no one knew until the police rang our doorbell to ask if we had seen her recently. Only later did her son arrive to clear out her belongings. It felt so cold and impersonal, not at all the kind of human warmth I want in my own family.

That’s why, with my daughter—born here in Japan—I’ve insisted she grow up speaking Chinese from the start. At home she heard more Chinese in her first year than Japanese, and now she can handle both languages well at school. But more than language, I want her to feel a sense of home. If she sees bread on the table and feels hungry, I want her to eat it without asking, not to treat food as private property the way Japanese families often do. To me, a family should feel warm and open, not cold and self-contained.

So my priorities are clear: first her health, then her studies. Of course, I want her to do well academically—she’s a girl, and good education matters—but if she falls short of my ideal, I’d rather she grow up kind-hearted and open, more like a Chinese girl who values warmth and generosity. And one day, I hope she marries a Chinese man, so that sense of closeness and culture continues in her own family."