Artist Profile | Maya
There are myriad ways to express yourself.
B.G.U. is shining light on artists whose uniqueness and creativeness inspire us through these difficult times.
We hope to turn inspiration into action, showing you the multitude of ways that we can continue to express ourselves.
Our next guest is illustrator, skater, and teacher Maya @oneinsilence
They have been teaching in Niigata prefecture for 4 years, while also sharing their love of skateboarding with their students.
We talked about identity in relation to culture, being non-binary in Japan, their new commissions project in support of BLM & much more!
Hi Maya, can you introduce yourself and talk a little bit about what you do, where you live, your pronouns, all that "Hi nice to meet ya," stuff?
Hi! I’m Maya! I go by they/them pronouns. I’m from Portland, Oregon, in America. Currently, I live in the countryside of Japan working as an English teacher at multiple elementary schools. I’ve been living here since summer of 2016. My students are my biggest teachers. These kids inspire me every day and they never fail to make me smile. Outside of work, I’m a visual artist! I also love skateboarding and practicing tea ceremony as well!
What connects you to Japan and brought you to Niigata?
It’s in my blood – I’m half Japanese and half Indian. I’m a child of immigrant parents who currently live in America. My mother was born and raised in Japan. Every summer during my childhood, we would visit Niigata, my mother’s hometown. I longed to know my motherland. I wanted to connect to and know more about my Japanese blood, so I decided to study abroad at Sophia University. Ever since, I knew I wanted to come back and live here. I was accepted to the JET Programme and miraculously found myself placed near my mother’s hometown. It’s like it was meant to be.
My experience of being half is always romanticized or idealized.
-Maya about their identity in relation to culture
What has your experience in Japan been as a person of multi-cultural identity? Does this experience change depending on where you are in the world?
I’ve always questioned the validity of my identity. Growing up mixed race, nowhere seemed to feel like home. Being raised in America, I didn’t relate to white families and their upbringing. I was often told that I was “too Asian” while simultaneously hearing my parents say that I am “too American.” I am the only one in my family who is American born and mixed race. Having to hold both identities without someone to relate to felt lonely.
I always had a yearning to connect to my cultures, but I never felt like I related on family visits to India and Japan. I often felt like I was too foreign, too Japanese, too American. I still feel the same living in Japan now. People never question me because I blend in, but that means I am met with social pressure – pressure to understand all cultural norms, social references and etiquettes. Sometimes I wish people knew that I’m not from here and understood that I’m not culturally familiar with everything.
Shame is also a part of my experience with having a multi-cultural identity. In America, I was shamed for eating Japanese and Indian food, for the smell of spices always present in my house, for my parents’ appearances and accents. I felt pressured to assimilate to white culture.
My experience of being hafu is always romanticized and idealized. People here have expressed their jealousy that I can speak two languages or wished they had facial features like me when in reality I have struggled and encountered prejudice for those exact things. I’m always torn between multiple worlds. Nowhere has truly felt like home, even though I’m always longing to find home in my identities and my people. Now I see my multi-cultural identity as a beautiful part of who I am. Recognizing the complexities of identity depending on where I am in the world feels powerful. I feel like a unique, mysterious, wandering soul with an abundance of curiosity.
How do you identify and express your gender? Does the country you're in affect this expression?
I identify as queer and non-binary (x-gender in Japanese). I outwardly present more ambiguously because I’m unable to be vocal or open about it with people in my everyday life. I am quietly loud about who I am. Quiet in the sense that in order to protect myself, I have only told a handful of people I trust and will sweep my identity under the rug and act more feminine to the general public. Loud in the sense that I continuously dress and present myself more authentically as a way to publicly state my identity.
But in all honesty, coming out, no matter how many times I have come out, no matter how close we are as friends has been scary every time. It’s vulnerable and makes me feel naked. Japan still has very limited knowledge and understanding about what LGBTQ+ means or what we are like, which makes it harder to have open conversations about it. Whereas in America, everyone is gradually getting more socially aware, and it has been a huge topic of conversation over recent years. There’s a saying in Japan deru kui wa utareru which means, “the nail that sticks out gets hammered down.” It’s always at the back of my mind. Many of my friends here have expressed to me that they have never met anyone like me in their everyday life. To be the only one they know who is queer and non-binary is terrifying. I don’t want to be an anomaly out of the crowd. We are not rare beings. However, when I am able to be honest about my identity with my friends, and have open conversations about who I am, it feels euphoric knowing that they finally see me the way I see myself and want to protect and support me.
In America, being vocal and political about my identity was for the freedom of others like me. I came out so that others who struggled would know that their experiences are 100% valid too. When I publicly came out about my gender identity, someone who was six years younger than me told me that when they were in seventh grade, I was the first person they came out to in day to day life. Or a time my Junior year of college when a Freshman came up to me and thanked me for being me, because they didn’t know it was possible for them to be both queer and spiritual/religious. I am thankful to the people who came out before me and whose voices gave me the courage to be who I am today. I’m sending forth my love and strength to those who are still questioning and to the next generation of queer folx.
I’ve learned that activism and change begins with engaging with the people around me.
- Maya on their art donation commission project for BLM organizations
What is skateboard culture like in Niigata? What have your experiences been like in the community?
Skateboarding is a way to free and connect me to myself. It liberated me from the struggles I faced with my gender identity. It was a healing experience to take my mind off of everything that weighed me down.
When I started skateboarding, I primarily skated alone. I decided to immerse myself into skateboarding as my friends moved away, commuting to a ramp house a distance away from where I lived. I was hesitant to pick up a hobby dominated by a cis-hetero male community. However, from day one, I felt very welcomed. Skateboarding became less of a hobby, and more of a lifestyle.
Throughout this past year, I have gotten to know many people in the small and intimate community here. Once I was skating in a parking lot alone at night, and a group of high schoolers approached me and asked to skate together. Another time I was skating solo there, and I ended up hanging out with skaters who have been skating longer than I have been alive. All of the connections I’ve made have been impactful. The people I have met through skateboarding have become some of my greatest friends. We are like family. It feels like everyone knows each other or is connected in some way. I love knowing that there’s always at least one person that I know there when I show up at any skate spot.
The community has people from all walks of life, from all different generations, including kids, teenagers, adults, beginners, and veterans. Everyone is incredibly friendly and welcoming and willing to teach, encourage, and uplift each other. Skating surpasses our differences. It doesn’t matter as long as you’re having a good time laughing with each other as you skate.
Any special stories about how skateboarding has impacted your own students?
I talk about my love for skateboarding in the classroom here and there so the kids all know it’s my hobby. One of the most affirming stories was when my student told me she had saved up money to buy a skateboard because of me. Ever since she shared that with me, it became a dream of mine to skate with my students.
I’ve connected and reconnected with current and former students through skateboarding. There’s a hidden spot by the river where I first started skating that has now become a popular spot amongst teenagers. One day I met teenagers that were once my students. I would see them at the spot on a weekly basis, and me and my skate buddies even took them up on small skate trips far from home. Those small connections meant a lot to me. There’s something humbling about knowing that skateboarding is what connects us together, that it doesn’t matter how old or young you are, how good or bad you are. All that matters is that right now, we are in this together at each other’s level.
The most beautiful thing about skateboarding is that it gives life to people. I’ve known kids who struggle with school, have stopped going, and withdrawn from society and have seen them pick up skateboarding and fall in love with it. It’s the reason they get out of bed and leave the house. It gave them motivation, ambition, and confidence that they never had before. One of these kids was actually the first student I had ever had a skate session with. Witnessing that transformation brings joy to my heart. My love pours out to the outcasts.
“Recognizing the complexities of identity depending on where I am in the world feels powerful.”
——Maya talking about multi-cultural identity
Any current projects you’re working on?
Yes! A group of my friends and I are doing an art donation commission project in support of the Black Lives Matter movement. Anti-blackness and colorism are global systemic issues ranging from microaggressions to police brutality to redlining. Living in Japan, I felt helpless from not being physically present in the ongoing protests. For this project, people commission me for an art piece by directly making a donation to a local black community organization. Some organizations people have donated to are National Bail Out, Black Lives Matter Global Network, and Black LGBTQIA+ Migrant project. They send me a receipt of their donation and additionally must send me a statement of how they plan on actively committing to anti-racist work and how they plan on supporting the BLM movement in an ongoing way to fight white supremacy and racism.
Working on commission pieces has helped me recognize that our lives are interconnected and to become more compassionate and empathetic. While creating, I reflect and meditate on BLM issues by watching documentaries, interviews, listening to music, and looking at art created by black artists. I’ve been watching more women of color skateboarders, watching black films like “13th” or “When They See Us,” listening to hip hop bands and rappers like The Roots and Common, looking at art by Kehinde Wiley, and reflecting on Marsha P. Johnson, a drag queen and activist during the Civil Rights movement who fought for LGBTQ+ rights. It has made me aware of how much white media I have been consuming. This creative process wakes up my mind to see my own internalized racism and how racist thoughts are perpetuated in our minds. It motivates me to share information and to have deep conversations about BLM with everyone around me, including my students. These conversations range from the origins of rap to the prison industrial complex. I’ve learned that activism and change begins with engaging with the people around me.
Lastly, What is freedom to you?
I think I have more questions than answers. Freedom to me is being able to live my most honest and authentic self. I feel the most free when I can be my unreserved self to others, and when those around me are listening to me intentionally with open hearts. Freedom is when people truly see me as I am and when I can be honest with myself. Freedom is about accepting people for who they are. To see people. To hear people. To feel people. It’s about giving and uplifting the voices of those who need to be heard and want to be heard. It’s about reaching out and taking care of people when you know they need it with open arms.
That’s when I feel that my freedom is tied with your freedom. Freedom is dismantling systemic oppression. We are far from free, but we are fighting for freedom with outpouring love.
Does freedom exist without oppression? If I was free from the start, would I be as driven and motivated as I am today? If we were all free from the start, would life have a purpose? How can I be free if marginalized people around the world are facing so many injustices?
