japanese

If there is such a thing, I am your typical Japanewish American Princess.

My Mom is Japanese American, my Dad is ethnically Jewish and, in a wonderful embrace, I came to be. Growing up in a town in which racial and religious combinations were not the norm, my two heritages naturally blended into one. Kamaboko (fish cake) and matzah ball soup were just as normal to me as they were odd to everyone else. On several occasions, my brother and I would joke about being double-teamed by our parents, whose academic standards were sky-high. Mom and Dad seemed to be the only ones on the block who strategically transformed games of report cards and SAT scores into two-on-one situations. But no matter how much I still accuse them of being ruthless, they didn\’t team up to be mean — they just wanted us to be the best we could be.