My sons, who grew up in English-speaking countries, sometimes enjoy listening to old Japanese music. It looks like they listen to the old music as if it’s new since it doesn’t evoke any memories.
When my younger son was home last month, he played a Japanese 70s playlist with Spotify in the car.
I usually prefer much newer, non-Japanese music. However, I was drawn to one of the pop band’s songs that I had totally forgotten about. So after I got home, I searched for them on YouTube.
What struck me was that the lead singer is not the best singer or dancer, and I like him becausehe is who he is. I don’t want to replace him with someone who might sing better—although it’s not just about the performance since he is a singer-songwriter, and they are an exceptional band.
Our imperfections are not less. It can be more because that makes us who we are. It can be an absolute gift.
It’s not a new concept at all, but I got it deeply —aka insight. It’s like a seed I planted inside of me and kept cultivating popped at the moment.
I once brought the topic of “My speaking isn’t great. My accent is horrible. French accent is lovely but not mine.” to my coaching session. I thought everyone would agree, but my coach didn’t buy into my story at all.
The only option I have is to be who I am. I have a Japanese accent, and I don’t think I will ever be a native English speaker in my life. I even took numerous accent reduction courses. Do I have a permanent defect? Of course not. Why do I have to torture myself?
So, after decades, I became a fan of the band. I found out they have a good number of original English songs that I’ve never heard before. I started to enjoy listening to them without criticizing his English.
