There are people who know at a young age what they want to do later in life. Whatever doubts and disappointments they might encounter along the way, their lives generally follow a straight path. On the other hand, there are many people who are confused about what path to take, who do not get satisfaction out of the work they are doing, and who wish that they could find a career that they can feel passionate about.
The reason I am writing this at the beginning of this series of remembrances is to convey a message to readers, especially young people who may read this. The message is that it is not at all strange not to know what you want to do in life. Uncertainty, anxiety and failure are all part of the process of growth. What is important is to continue to search for your passion. That search itself gives meaning to life. And if you are fortunate, after turning many corners, you will find a career that you can feel passionate about. I am one of those lucky people.
When I was in high school, I thought about becoming a professional musician. However, no matter how much I loved music, I was not only aware of the limits of my natural born talent, but I had to admit to myself that I just did not have the passion that would lead me to enjoy spending the endless hours that I would need to devote to practice if I wanted to be a successful musician.
Later, I became interested in international politics, and after graduating from college, I decided to go to graduate school to pursue a master's degree at Columbia University's department of political science. But I did so without any clear idea of what I would do with the degree once I got it. I thought about working for the United Nations or becoming a journalist, or about applying to the State Department to join the foreign service to become a diplomat. But I never dreamed of becoming what I did become -- a scholar and a specialist on Japan -- until I actually became one.
Having begun studying Japanese, almost by accident as it were, as I will explain later, I was sitting at my desk one day engrossed in practicing kanji when I suddenly realized that I was happier spending long hours studying Japanese than being in a piano practice room. I had no doubt that I wanted to know more about Japan. From that moment on, I started walking along a path that I never imagined would be in my future. And it is a path that I have stayed on ever since.
I first set foot in Japan over 60 years ago when I spent a year in Tokyo studying in an intensive Japanese language program. It was an exciting time to be in Japan. The country was in the midst of unprecedented high economic growth. The politics were contentious and intriguing, with fierce battles between conservatives and progressives. And there was the special excitement that year generated by Japan's hosting of the Olympics for the first time.
As that year in Tokyo was winding down, my thoughts turned to what I might do career-wise that would keep me involved with Japan. But I hardly imagined that I would find myself teaching about Japanese politics and foreign policy at Columbia University for 47 years, constantly traveling back and forth between New York and Tokyo, gaining the confidence of many Japanese politicians from across the political spectrum, and writing books both in English and Japanese. Nor did I imagine that people in Japan would appreciate my writings or that I would be publishing my personal history in the pages of the Nikkei newspaper.
Preparing the articles for this series has given me the chance to revisit memories about important people and events in my life, especially as they relate to my career as a specialist on Japan. I am grateful to Nikkei for giving me the opportunity to share with you the story of a boy from Brooklyn, New York, who found his way to Japan and to a life full of unforgettable memories. Please bear with me as I reminisce.
Gerald Curtis is professor emeritus of political science at Columbia University.
This is the first installment of a 30-part Nikkei Asia series, "My Personal History."
