This diary entry was written on Sunday, March 8, 2026. In it, I look back on my high school days, when I was desperately searching for authentic English in a small town where opportunities to use the language were almost nonexistent. Driven by an intense hunger to experience real, unfiltered English, I tried to create my own English-speaking environment—sometimes in bold, awkward, and even comical ways, such as approaching foreigners on train platforms just to exchange a few words. These memories reveal the determination, frustration, and youthful recklessness of a teenager who had quietly stepped off the main track of Japanese society in pursuit of something he deeply desired. Looking back after forty-five years, I realize that although circumstances limited how far I could go at the time, that restless pursuit became the starting point of the long journey I am still walking today.
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Sunday, March 8, 2026
Chasing Authentic English
（本物の英語を追い求めて）
I’m writing this diary entry as a follow-up to my reflections on how passionately I searched for unfiltered, authentic English and how starved I was for an opportunity to use it when I was a senior high school student. However, such an environment did not exist in the small town where I lived. Therefore, I tried to create an English-speaking environment myself. As I wrote previously, I pretended to be an American and called Japanese restaurants and service providers that I found in the telephone directory—one after another[i].
Hunting for Foreigners
I tried to take every opportunity to speak to foreigners that I could find on the streets or on train platforms, even though there were not many chances to see foreign residents or tourists back then. Whenever I caught sight of them, I would approach them and start speaking in English. However, this strategy did not work as well as I had initially expected. So I learned from these setbacks and changed my strategy. This time, I would start speaking to them in Japanese—but very fast, in a Kansai dialect (actually, I was not very familiar with the dialect myself)—so that they would give up trying to speak Japanese with me and switch to English.
Whenever I spotted them, I would want to run up to them and speak to them immediately. But by the time I actually got close enough to speak, I would be busy catching my breath. What’s more, I would surprise them and put them on the defensive right from the start. So I learned the hard way that I needed to walk slowly toward them without alarming them, and smile disarmingly to put them at ease before speaking.
There was even a time when a foreigner sensed a suspicious-looking 16-year-old high school boy standing next to him on the train platform trying to speak to him, and he stepped one step sideways away from me. But I stepped one step sideways to follow his move. He then moved one step sideways again, and I followed. After we repeated these small movements a few times, he finally walked away.
There was another time on the same platform when I stood next to another foreigner. This time I stepped on his shoe just to create an excuse to speak to him, even though I only ended up uttering two sentences: “I’m terribly sorry, sir. I’m a high school student…” I was lucky he didn’t get angry or make a scene.
I don’t have many fond memories of speaking to foreigners on the streets or on train platforms.
However, I still vividly remember one incident that left an unpleasant aftertaste in my young mind. One day, on my way home from school, I spotted a Western gentleman with gray hair standing on the platform with his Japanese wife, and I approached him to practice my English. But he replied to me in impeccable Japanese, confidently explaining that he was German. With a kind smile, he said that he and his wife could switch to English if I wanted.
His Japanese wife looked kind and was smiling at me, but somehow I became timid, chickened out, and ran away from them. I suddenly felt intimidated and small in the presence of their quiet confidence.
What ifs
Forty-five years ago, I was a mad boy obsessed with learning authentic English, totally off the main track. But I couldn’t pour all my energy into learning it because of peer pressure to fit the social mold and do my best to learn textbook English and prepare for university entrance exams. I constantly felt frustrated and stressed about the position I was in.
I couldn’t fully focus either on learning the kind of English I wanted or on preparing for entrance exams. In a sense, I spent the second and third years of high school in limbo.
I don’t regret the past, nor do I wish to relive it, because I’m happy with my life now. But sometimes I wonder: What if I had been able to pour all my energy into learning authentic English, just as I wished, without worrying about entrance exams? And what if I had had a coach like the one I try to be today—someone who could offer practical advice on how to improve English significantly?
If I had been as gifted as Michihiro Matsumoto, I might have been close to the third-dan level of English proficiency by now—the level of an educated and intellectually articulate native speaker. But even without such extraordinary talent, I am sure I would have become much more proficient in English by now.
As a cliché has it, there are no “ifs” in history—or in personal history. All I can do, and will do, is continue walking this path, striving to get as close as possible to the summit of the third-dan level of English proficiency.
[i] Creating My Own English Environment（英語を話す環境をつくる） | Papa Tom’s Lifelong Learning Journey ー 英語道 三段への道