India?

Mexico?

How about Italy?

What about Kyrgyzstan?

These are some of the places people think I'm from.

What I actually am is half Japanese and half Irish American.

There is a term commonly used to identify people like myself,

and that is "hafu".

In my day-to-day experience in Japan,

people are often surprised to learn that I am hafu.

Strangers will come up to me and say,

"Okuni wa doko desuka?" --

What country are you from?

When they learn my last name is Nishikura,

the next question usually is: "Nihonjin to kekkon sarete masuka?" --

Are you married to a Japanese?

I often reply with: No, my father is Japanese. --

"Jitsuwa otousan ga Nihonjin desu."

But what I really want to say is: It's because I'm Japanese.

I'm very fortunate, in that I come from a loving family

that had the means to give me the opportunity

to spend my summers in the United States.

So, I grew up between two different worlds.

In Japan, I remember going to the local matsuris, the festivals,

and trying my darnedest to scoop up that goldfish

with that paper scoop but always failing.

And, in America, I remember going to the local shopping mall

and being in awe of how the stores just stretched out for miles.

For a young girl, it was paradise.

But wherever I went, once I was beyond the comfort of my home or family,

I always felt like I didn't quite fit in.

I wanted to belong, which I think is a natural human desire.

In Japan, I wish my teachers at my Japanese elementary school

wouldn't single me out for being able to speak English.

And, in America, I wish I had blonde pigtails

like the girls in my grandmother's neighborhood.

While I was lucky to have never been picked on in school,

I know that there are those of us who have.

Simply, whether innocent or malicious intent,

simply by the way somebody says something to us or looks at us,

we are acutely reminded that we are not like those around us,

that we don't belong.

And, sometimes, that desire to belong is so great

that we are willing to hide or change that part of us that is different.

But it's not as simple as buying a new wardrobe

to fit in with the cool kids.

Denying who we are, even one part of us,

creates the suffocating feeling, like we're not good enough.

Even today, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror

of a restaurant where I'm eating with my relatives,

and I go, "Wow, I look so different.

How is it that I am related?

Do I even belong here?"

But then a moment later, I am moved.

Moved by the fact, that despite their differences,

both cultural and racial,

my parents found love.

And those differences were once so great

that my grandparents were on opposite sides of a war.

Knowing the value of respecting and loving both cultures,

my parents raised me to believe that I was both Japanese and American.

However, in Japan in particular,

society has trouble reflecting that back to me.

People don't even often recognize me as being half Japanese;

they just see me as a foreigner.

Now, some might say this is understandable

with only 2% of the population in Japan being not Japanese,

and there being few ethic minorities here.

But as somebody who has grown up here, and is Japanese by birth,

why is it so hard to be recognized as one?

So, what does it mean to be Japanese?

It seems like there's this unspoken definition.

One must look Japanese, speak Japanese,

and abide by all its customs and traditions.

And, if someone can't check off each box, a hundred percent,

then he or she is not Japanese.

But people like me are becoming more and more common every day.

Today, 1 in 18 marriages is an international union,

and, as a result, 1 in 49 babies are born between such couples.

That is over 20,000 hafus a year.

With such changing demographics, I think the current understanding

of what it means to be Japanese needs to change.

[A new definition of Japanese]

The definition of Japanese needs to expand to include hafus.

"Konna kao demo Nihonjin de arieru shakai ni nattehoshii." --

Maybe you can look like me and sound like me, and still be Japanese.

As a film maker, exploring these questions came naturally to me

through the lens of a camera.

So, it began in film school, where I made short movies

about my personal identity and my family,

to upon graduating, where I started producing videos

for organizations that fight racial prejudice

and foster multi-cultural understanding.

All of which leads to this moment now,

where, through the hafu project,

I met three young hafu women like myself,

and together we came to make a feature length film.

Through five stories filmed over a year, we asked these very questions:

What does it mean to be hafu and what does it mean to be Japanese?

(Video) Woman: He was started to be called names:

"You are not Japanese, you are Eigo-jin."

Boy: I was bullied every day.

[What does it mean to be mixed-race in Japan?]

Man: I stuck out wherever I was and people treated me differently.

I thought, just treat me normally!

Talk to me just as you would to anyone else!

Woman: I really believed I was Japanese.

So suddenly I felt like I didn't belong anywhere.

When you're younger, you don't want to be different,

you want to be like everybody else.

Man: I feel disconnected from Japan.

[Each year over 20,000 half-Japanese babies are born]

Woman: I feel like Japan is changing.

Everyday, you see these little, half-Japanese children running around.

Man: I discovered that there were many people that had similar backgrounds.

Woman: He realized that he didn't have to try to become someone

that everybody else expects him to be.

Man: There's prejudice and racism wherever you go.

I want to connect with people who can see me for me.

Woman: Instead of disliking what's different

if we embrace and learn from it

then Japan will have such a bright future.

[SOPHIA Australia x Japan]

[EDWARD Venezuela x Japan]

[FUSAE Korea x Japan]

[OI FAMILY Mexico x Japan]

[DAVID Ghana x Japan]

[Japan is Changing]

[HAFU]

[Meet the new generation of mixed Japanese]

(Applause)

MN: Since we began filming, the response has been tremendous.

Hafus and their families write to us from all corners of the globe

offering their support and encouragement.

To me, this is a testament that the parts of us that feels unrecognized

wants our stories to be heard.

The film was completed in April and is now screening worldwide.

None of us hafus chose to be born this way.

However, having come from two parents

of different cultures or different phenotypes,

by our mere presence,

we've been given an opportunity to start this conversation

about the labels that society places on all of us.

I believe these labels of separation

are what leads to exclusion, discrimination, conflict, and even war.

Ultimately, I think it's not just about being recognized as part of Japan,

I think what we're really seeking

is to be seen authentically in our entirety,

for the parts of us that is Japanese and the parts of us that is not.

What I have come to understand is that it is up to each and every one of us

to decide for ourselves who we are

and not to be confined by the boundaries that seek to define us or exclude us.

And, in that act of knowing who we are and accepting it,

we allow others to know it is okay for us to be that way as well.

My name is Nishikura Megumi.

With this name and this face, I am Japanese, American, and hafu.

Thank you.

(Applause)