My Conversion to Judaism

  *Originally posted by  InterfaithFamily . Photo by  Perfect Circle Photo .

*Originally posted by InterfaithFamily. Photo by Perfect Circle Photo.

On March 22nd, 2016, I completed a journey many years in the making when I sat before a beit din, immersed myself in the waters of a mikveh, and converted to Judaism...

It felt as if my soul had finally found the home it had been searching for my whole life. In Judaism, I found the sense of community I longed for, and so much comfort in the rituals of our thousands-of-years-old tradition. I also gained a new sense of responsibility as a Jew: to do my part to repair our world. It is a day I will always remember as one of the most powerful and meaningful days of my life. 

y journey to Judaism started long before I met my now-husband Bryan, but my interest in it deepened because of him and his Jewish heritage. I’ve always been interested in learning about my Japanese heritage, so when Bryan and I started discussing our future together, I was quietly interested in conversion early on. Since I was not raised in a particular religion, I felt fortunate for the gift of choice given to me by both my parents. I’m grateful that they also fell in love with Bryan and supported my decision to convert wholeheartedly from the beginning. 

After years of attending Jewish holiday gatherings at friends’ homes, Introduction to Judaism courses at our temple, countless meetings with my guide Rabbi, Hebrew classes at the JCC, building Jewish community at our Reform synagogue, regularly attending Shabbat services, reading Jewish books and cooking Jewish recipes, one would think that I would finally be ready

  *Photo by  Perfect Circle Photo    

There was just one problem: I was so afraid that there wasn't enough space within me to take on being Jewish. I was barely able to handle holding on to my Japanese heritage. I had spent my entire life tightly gripping onto the few parts of my heritage that were left for me. My Dad’s generation had lived through being Japanese-American in Hawaii during and after World War II, and they had to assimilate as quickly as possible if they were to keep their families safe. Though my Mom is from Japan, she quickly learned the importance of assimilation as well. So much of my heritage was lost before I came into the world. The same can be said for Bryan’s Jewish heritage. 

uckily (though it did not feel so lucky on those early Saturday mornings), I grew up going to Japanese school and spending summers in Japan. But Saturday school and Japanese relatives don’t teach you how to navigate being Japanese-American in America. I’ve spent most of my life feeling painfully in between: Not behaving quite Japanese enough in Japan and not looking American enough in the US. To top that off, I’ve often felt the pressure of being the last “link” to the Japanese part of my family. I was hanging on to my complicated Japanese American heritage by a string. I worried that adding Judaism into the mix would make me lose it all, and my heart ached for my ancestors and for future generations of my family.  

So I went to my guide rabbi’s office sobbing. I told him I wasn’t ready and that I didn’t think I could do it anymore. To which he responded, “You’re ready.” I was completely baffled, but he continued by asking me if I had ever considered that there was space for everything? I hadn’t. And that was it. I walked in to his office only being able to see two options: Holding on to my Japanese heritage or letting go of it to be Jewish. Thankfully, I left with a new perspective: What if there was enough space for everything? 

The funny thing is, now I have a company called Nourish that does exactly that: We help people define their cultural narrative, on their own terms. I’m not just Japanese. I’m not just Jewish. I’m not just American. I’m a Japanese-American Jew. While it’s complex, I have even more opportunities to celebrate who I am, and more opportunities to reinterpret my heritages in ways that help me connect more deeply. I may still use chopsticks incorrectly and unpack some takeout before lighting candles on Shabbat some nights, but never have I felt so connected and nourished by my Japanese and Jewish traditions. I’d like to think that’s all our ancestors could have wanted for us, anyway.

Next spring, I will celebrate my bat mizvah at the same temple where Bryan and I were married. In a few weeks, I will travel to Japan to study my heritage. In some ways, I feel I am reclaiming the lost parts of my Jewish and Japanese heritage. There’s plenty of room for both now.