Racial profiling in Japan: Who could speak for them?
First published in Parcham Online, October 11, 2023
One Friday morning, while browsing online news, I was searching for a material to use for discussion in my class. Due to my academic background, after retiring from my career as a researcher, I have been taking care of the students from one of the South Asian countries at a Japanese prefectural high school.
Most of them were brought to Japan at the age of 12 to 15 by their parents working here without knowing even a single Japanese word. All of them settled in Japan irrespective of their will, if not against, uprooted from their native soil during their teenage years. Their mother tongue has not yet taken root deeply at this age, and all of a sudden, it has been pulled out, and transplanted into another soil.
They started learning basic Japanese at high school as if they were elementary school kids, as well as studying mathematics, science, biology, geography, history and even English with Japanese medium together with local native Japanese speakers.
At home, their parents speak only their mother tongue despite spending more time in Japan than their sons and daughters. It is because their work never required learning any languages—they just work without saying a word, sometimes in a factory overnight, sometimes in a construction site under terrible heat.
If they work in an “ethnic foods” restaurant as a cook for nearly 12 hours a day, they are considered ‘relatively lucky.’ In the circumstances of “ethnic” restaurants, they are allowed to communicate in their mother tongue with each other.
However, in any case, they are de facto “segregated” and miss the opportunity to learn Japanese howsoever long they reside here, not only in terms of reading and writing, but in speaking as well. As a result, they have to depend on others who know the language just to survive as long as they are living in Japan.
The most essential and indispensable matter is to get legitimate residential status for work, and they are not able to accomplish the procedures by themselves without knowing the language. Due to their ignorance and illiteracy, they are taken advantage of by some exploitative Japanese and even by their own people. They cannot help themselves. That’s why they are eager to educate their sons and daughters at Japanese high schools although it is not compulsory nor easily affordable for them.
The consequence is that their children have no alternative but to be constantly coming and going between two languages, the one that they have to manage with at school and the other which their parents only understand at home. However, their mother tongue has not been matured enough to express how they feel and what they think, and the Japanese language is gradually going to be replaced by their mother tongue. So, they converse with their parents only when needed in daily life.
My expected role as a teacher at school is, I believe, to listen to their voices. Officially I was appointed as a teacher of their mother tongue, although their mother tongue is not mine. I studied their language in the university and then used it when I lived in their country. So, I understand their mother tongue, and can read and write with it as well.
I conduct my class in three languages—Japanese, their native language, and English, because the linguistic competency of each student is too uneven and diversified to use only one of the three languages. What is common among them is, none of the languages is enough to carry their voices fully. Once, those immigrant students were labeled as “semi-lingual,” and now, we call them “double-bind-limited.” In the case of my students, they are not “double” but “triple,” with English in addition. They were enrolled by so-called “English-medium schools” in the towns of their native country before coming to Japan, and those schools often suffer from the lack of qualified teachers.
I usually select news article of BBC, because some articles are provided in these three languages, though with a slightly different expressions or details. I recite the news to them, in each language, because some students understand the language but cannot read. But on that day, I selected the article not from BBC but from The Japan Times.
On December 6, 2021, this Japan-based English newspaper published a short news article with the headline, “U.S.Embassy warns of suspected racial profiling by Japan police.” This article was followed by several other English media such as ABC News in the US.
U.S. Embassy warns of suspected racial profiling by Japan police - The Japan Times
US embassy in Tokyo warns foreigners of suspected racial profiling cases involving Japanese police - ABC News (go.com)
I shared this news article with my students for discussion.
Then, one student told me how his life is in Japan, that I had not realized until then although I had known him for nearly three years. He is often questioned by police; 10 to 15 minutes each time, because of his skin colour and facial appearance different from those of typical Japanese, in his opinion. If he forgets to carry identity card --foreign registration card-- he is questioned. They ascertain his residential status and deadline of permission to stay in Japan along with his name, age, and address, arbitrarily.
“One day,” he said, “I was stopped and questioned five times in the same day! Suppose I was out for ten hours on that day, then it has become that every two hours I was asked to show my identity card to police.” He continued to say that one time, he carelessly forgot the card with him. Then, they escorted him home, so he could show it to them. That day, he failed to report for work.
After hearing his story, the other students shared their own similar experiences. It seemed that some students had understood exactly what the police were doing and why, while others did not because of their lack of linguistic ability, but all of them had to follow the order of the police with no questions asked. They are so vulnerable when they are questioned on the street by the Japanese police, because they cannot speak the language clearly, logically and in a proper manner to better protect themselves.
Who could speak for them if they are involved in something wrong—unintentionally and/or unknowingly?
Or, they might be on their way to rush for a part-time job to raise money for their school fees. Possibly, they could be in a hurry to attend something important on time.
Or, in case of a matter of family emergency, then?
Just before graduation, he wrote an essay in Japanese about our class, which is the course specifically for the non-Japanese students’ mother tongues. According to his essay, he could study his “mother tongue” after a long interruption in Japan, thanks to the special programme offered by the local government educational board. This is regarded as a progressive programme among Japanese high schools, and broadcasted as a short TV documentary film. We encouraged him to submit the essay to one of the leading newspapers for consideration in its readers’ voice column. It was an impressive and moving story—and it was accepted.
He was delighted enough to write something more again, and I suggested to him to write his experiences on police inspection. But he didn’t. I wondered if he might have been concerned about any possible repercussion. So, I wrote his story instead. There, I carefully avoided mentioning anything particular about him by which he could be identified. But it wasn’t accepted by the newspaper.
Who could speak for them, and how? I keep contemplating about it since then.