Holding All of Who I Am: A Reflection on Belonging, Race, and Late-Life Lessons

I was born Japanese and German, but from my very first breath, I was raised in a Black community. My daddy was the minister of a Japanese Baptist Church, but our home was in a Black neighborhood, with a German wife and biracial children filling the space with life.

From my family, friends, church, and community connections — my world was Black. It’s the culture that shaped me, pulled on my soul, and gave me my rhythm. It’s what I know and have embraced my whole life.

For decades, I never questioned my place in that world. I was loved, trusted, and embraced. My work — especially through Flava Coffee House and later Lady Flava News — was deeply intertwined with the Black arts community. I celebrated the music, the stories, the soul, and the strength of the people who surrounded me.

That’s why what came later in my life shocked me.

It wasn’t until I moved to Las Vegas — well into my senior years — that race became a wedge between me and people I cared about. Some were entertainers I supported. Some were friends I had considered family for decades. And in one case, someone used the “race card” against me in a professional setting.

I want to be clear: I know there are good and bad people in every race, culture, and community. But when you’ve lived a lifetime feeling completely embraced by a culture, the sting of exclusion — especially based on race — cuts in a way you can’t prepare for.

This was never my reality in my younger years. I didn’t grow up fighting for my place. I grew up already belonging. And perhaps that’s why these moments in my later life felt so heavy — because I never expected them.

The truth is, I still honor all of who I am — Japanese, German, and the deep cultural roots I have in the Black community. I can hold the pain of these experiences and still love the people and culture that shaped me. I can acknowledge the wrong without erasing the beauty.

Life will teach you that belonging is complicated. But it will also remind you that identity is not given or taken away by someone else — it’s something you carry, honor, and protect within yourself.

I am all that I am because of the love, culture, and people who molded me. And no one can take that from me.