Denmark H.

Studying abroad had always been a major goal of mine. I've always wondered what it would be like to attend a university in a foreign country. I also had never traveled outside the U.S. before, mostly because it's so expensive. Traveling overseas is something that I had always wanted to do. As a UC student, I knew that I'd be receiving financial assistance which would cover most of my expenses. So this felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. 

I chose Japan because I wanted to immerse myself in the culture, improve my language skills, and build meaningful relationships with Japanese people. And I chose the UCEAP program at Doshisha University specifically because of its location in Kyoto. I've always been fascinated by traditional Japanese culture and Kyoto—the cultural heart of Japan—felt like the perfect place to study abroad. I also love the Kansai dialect, which is widely spoken in the region.

Furthermore, I recognized that this program would be an important step toward my future goals. I plan to become an ESL teacher in Japan, and living and studying there has not only strengthened my language skills but also deepened my understanding of the culture and the people. These experiences give me the confidence that I’ll be able to build genuine, lasting connections with my future students and colleagues.

I am African American and a re-entry student, and so I carried with me a unique set of goals and concerns into this study abroad experience. I was aware that students like me are often underrepresented in these programs, and the reasons behind this reality. That awareness shaped how I approached every step—from emotionally preparing myself for living in Japan to creating a specific list of goals that I aimed to accomplish during my program. 

One of my biggest fears was whether I would be accepted socially. I’m African American, but I’m also a re-entry student, which meant that I was older than most of the other students. So I was worried that the Japanese students might reject me or treat me differently once they realized my age. 

At the same time, I saw studying abroad as a powerful opportunity not just to grow as an individual, but to represent my communities and challenge stereotypes through genuine connection. Furthermore, I hoped to inspire other Black students—especially those who might feel hesitant about studying abroad in Japan—by showing that it’s possible to build genuine, meaningful connections with Japanese people.

I usually woke up at 6:30 AM, not just because my classes began at nine, but because living in Japan filled me with a constant, almost electric feeling of excitement to embrace yet another day in an environment that was both entirely new and endlessly stimulating. Japan heavily appealed to my adventurous spirit. There was always so much to do and see. That being said, I also enjoyed having “me time” in my room before I had to head off to campus. I’d eat breakfast, get dressed, and then walk the ten minutes from Dorm Kamogawa to Doshisha University’s Imadegawa campus.

From Monday through Friday, my mornings were dedicated to Japanese language study. I took eight Japanese language courses, which lasted from 9 AM to 12:15 PM. After class, I’d grab lunch, usually a bento from 7-Eleven or Family Mart. Some days, I'd eat out, either alone or with friends. 

My evenings were either highly active or sedentary. I usually went to the gym or relaxed at home, but I was also involved in several clubs and organizations, including the ESS circle, Student Staff for Intercultural Events (SIED), Colore International, and KyoTomorrow Academy. Depending on the day, I would participate in one of their intercultural exchange events.

I took eight Japanese language classes, one Japanese culture class, and two Global Education courses: Principles of Economics and Human Sciences in the Global Age. Most days, I had two language classes, except for Tuesdays and Wednesdays when I’d also take a Global Education course. For language instruction, we used the textbook Minna no Nihongo.

The class sizes that I took at Doshisha University were much smaller than what I’m used to at UC Berkeley. My language classes only had around 20 students, and even my largest class—the Japanese culture course—only had about 30. In contrast, many of my lecture courses at Berkeley easily exceed 200 students.

My classes at Doshisha University were much easier than any of the courses that I've taken so far at UC Berkeley. However, the workload was surprisingly heavy.

As an English major at Berkeley, I typically have a light workload; usually one short essay and one online discussion assignment. The essays and discussion assignments never require me to write a lot, just to think deeply about the material. I’m generally given several weeks to complete essays and anywhere from a few days to a full week for discussion posts. In contrast, at Doshisha University, I often had a heavy workload, with multiple homework assignments each week that were usually due the very next class period. I also took far more tests there, often about two per week; whereas in my English literature classes at Berkeley, I might have only two or three exams in an entire semester.

Studying abroad in Japan had a profound impact on how I understand and carry my identity as an African American man. Before arriving, I wasn’t sure if people would be willing to befriend me. I wrestled with the idea that I might need to tone myself down to fit in—worried that parts of my personality might come across as "too much" or be misunderstood. I worried that I'd have to shrink myself in order to be accepted by others. Or that they'd be intimidated by my RBF or physical stature. 

Yet I was able to show up as my full self. I didn't have to suppress my personality, change my facial expressions, or code-switch to fit in. A great example of this was during the last ESS event, when we lit fireworks by the Kamogawa River. That night, I was completely myself—direct, outspoken, occasionally slipping into AAVE—and yet I was embraced and celebrated by everyone. At the end of the event, the Japanese students expressed their gratitude towards me for always being so enthusiastic and highly involved with their club. I was also given the opportunity to say how much the club meant to me. 

The broader lesson that I've taken from this experience is that I don’t need to dilute who I am in order to belong. I’ve learned that I can show up fully, unapologetically Black, and still be embraced. I now feel more empowered to be my full self, no matter where I am.

The most meaningful aspect of my time abroad was the relationships I built with Japanese people. While studying at Doshisha University, one of my goals was to form friendships with Japanese students outside of club or campus activities. I wanted to see if they were willing to spend time together in a more personal setting, as I believe that reflects a true friendship. Just as important to me is the effort someone invests in cultivating that connection.

Several of my club members, as well as other Japanese people I met, made a genuine effort to get to know me and spend time together. I invited a few friends to one of my favorite spots in Kyoto—a Starbucks right by the Kamogawa River. Afterward, we went to Sushiro restaurant. I ate conveyor belt sushi for the first time! Other Japanese people that I met also extended invitations for me to spend time with them. These moments of inclusion meant a lot to me. I have always seen inclusiveness as one of the clearest signs that someone is truly interested in building a real and lasting friendship.

Before coming to Japan, one of my biggest concerns was that I’d struggle to make friends. As an African American man, I worried that I might be seen as intimidating or that people would be hesitant to approach me. That uncertainty weighed heavily on me and filled me with anxiety. Within my first few weeks at Doshisha University, I decided to join a circle called ESS. The first meeting was held at the Shinmachi Student Hall. I stood outside the meeting room for ten minutes, frozen. I could hear students laughing and chatting in both English and Japanese, but the fear of rejection kept me from walking in. Then I reminded myself of one of the main reasons I came to Japan: to build meaningful relationships with Japanese people. So I took a deep breath and stepped inside. What I found was a room full of kind, open-minded students who welcomed me warmly and made me feel seen and respected. Their inclusiveness and willingness to connect created the space for friendship to grow. But what truly made those friendships possible was that I chose to take that first step—even though it was scary and I didn’t know how I would be received.

To students thinking about studying abroad in Japan, be proactive. Take advantage of opportunities to meet locals and immerse yourself in the culture. Traveling to Japan with specific goals in mind is great, but don’t close yourself off to other experiences. Be open to trying new things!

Making friends in Japan often depends on the initiative you take in reaching out and cultivating authentic connections. Many Japanese students can be shy or may lack confidence in their English skills, so they might not approach or initiate conversations themselves. That’s why it’s important to take the first step—introduce yourself, start the conversation, and show genuine interest in getting to know them.

If you’re an African American student like me and wondering whether you’ll be able to make Japanese friends, my advice is this: don’t let fear hold you back. In my experience, how you show up matters far more than what you show up as. If you participate in intercultural exchange events, take the initiative to reach out, and make a genuine effort to connect, being Black won’t be a barrier—it will simply be one part of who you are.

Resist the urge to code-switch or shrink yourself out of fear of being “too much.” At every event I attended, I stayed true to myself. I’m confident. Outspoken. Sometimes a little chaotic. But I am also positive, upbeat, and express interest in others. Japanese students appreciated my energy. They didn’t see me only as a Black man—they saw me as a kind, enthusiastic, and fun person who just happened to be Black. Be yourself. Lead with authenticity and warmth, and you’ll be surprised at just how much you’re embraced.

That said, patience and grace are essential. Japan has far less racial diversity than the U.S., and many people have never interacted with a Black person before. I often got stared at in public, people asked odd questions about my culture, and I got asked if I was a “basketball player.” There were also other things that I was subjected to that made me slightly uncomfortable, but that in my eyes still did not cross into negative territory. Thing is, in Japan, this behavior isn’t usually meant to be rude; often it comes from curiosity shaped by limited media representation of Black people. 

I chose to respond with a smile, humor, and patience, and in some cases, I turned those interactions into teachable moments. Whenever cultural gaps arise, make it a point to extend grace—you’ll often find it opens the door to deeper understanding and connection.