Home Leaver: A Japanese American Search for Belonging
This series consists of reflective essays on Japanese American identity and search for belonging based upon the author’s recent experiences in Japan. Part confession, part historical analysis, part cultural comparison, and part religious exploration, it offers fresh and humorous insights into what it means to be Japanese American in our suddenly global age.
*Episodes in the “Home Leaver” series come from Kurashige’s eponymously titled and unpublished memoir.
Acknowledgements: These chapters would not have been published on this webpage (or likely anywhere) without the crucial support of Greg Robinson—a friend and fellow historian, who it turned out was also a wonderful editor. Greg’s insightful comments and edits on drafts of these chapters made me a better writer and storyteller. Also crucial was Yoko Nishimura and her team at Discover Nikkei for their layout of the chapters and superb professionalism. Negin Iranfar read multiple drafts of this work and, even more, listened to me talk about it over and again for the better part of a year—her comments and support were sustaining. Finally, I want to acknowledge and thank the people and institutions who appear or are referenced in these stories. Regardless of whether I noted their true identities, or whether my memory and perspective aligned with theirs, they have my abiding gratitude for making it possible for me to leave
home—and to create one in Japan.
Stories from this series
Chapter 2—Role Reversal
May 26, 2023 • Lon Kurashige
Yujin’s was the first familiar face I saw after arriving in Tokyo. Our reunion was on a street lined with stores selling Buddhist merchandise. I was looking for a round meditation cushion called a zafu. I had left mine at home because it took up precious luggage space, and I was sure that I could find one online once in Japan. But none showed up in my internet searches, no doubt because I was using English and not Japanese. The …
Chapter 1—Passing Time
April 28, 2023 • Lon Kurashige
As I strode down the station corridor past the ticket gates, I became nostalgic for my childhood in Southern California. It was dinner time, and in the four months I’d been in Japan I had tried nearly every bento type in the supermarket. I wanted to eat something different, and so suddenly I veered out from the flow of traffic and found myself standing under a large overhead menu. I studied it, sounding out the choices one katakana symbol at a …
