Transcending Limits

第10話 Working at a Think Tank

From my third to fourth year of university, I worked part-time unloading cargo at Osaka International Airport while attending an English conversation school. During spring break, I embarked on a two-week journey across the Americas by bus and train, from San Francisco to New York. Which city did I like the most? It was Kansas, an area in the heartland of America, located between Los Angeles and New York.

Here, I was guided through the town by a city planning professor from the University of Kansas whom I met on the train. I was also invited to the house of a young businessman I met at the station, where I went out with him and his wife to a restaurant and had hamburgers, spending enjoyable moments together.

During this trip, I didn't experience any discrimination as an Asian. People were easy-going. Japanese people tend to think they are closer to white people than to black people, but white people tend to think Japanese people are closer to black people. However, without knowing these common perceptions, I began contemplating the idea of moving to the United States in the future. I believe this was heavily influenced by music and movies, and because I have a penchant for adventure.

Upon returning home, I still had some time off. My father's university classmate, who ran a think tank company, asked me if I could help out since they were short-staffed. While I thought it was unlikely that anyone would listen to my father who wanted me to work there, I went because I'm a good-hearted person.

When it came to job hunting, I was determined to avoid companies that directly contributed to environmental destruction by using oil. However, considering this, it seemed like almost all companies were off the table, and I was torn about what to do. Now, I acknowledge the significance of all companies, regardless of their nature.

I consulted with my university seminar professor, who suggested that being a teacher who could convey their own thoughts to students was a good option. However, I hadn't obtained a teaching license. My ultimate goal was to become a professional guitarist, but at the same time, I also aspired to become a freelance writer. When I went to work, there were about 30 people in the office, all intensely focused on sheets of manuscript paper.

They used word processors, printers, and copy paper, and I thought that I could practice writing here without contributing to environmental destruction. For about a month, from 9:30 in the morning to 6 in the evening, I transcribed tapes and typed manuscripts on a word processor.

The company had a fantastic work environment with a refrigerator, and after 5 in the evening, we could have beer. While the bubble economy had ended, the labor shortage still lingered as an aftereffect. On my last day of part-time work, the president said, "If you're not planning to go to another company, you're welcome to come here." However, he had been drinking a bit. He was the type to fall asleep after just one can of beer, so maybe he was quite intoxicated.

I immediately replied, "Thank you very much. I appreciate it." I secured a job offer earlier than most fourth-year students. I told my girlfriend about my part-time job. That evening, I called to inform her that I had secured a job.

"Whaat? You've already decided!?"

"Yeah, I did. The president gave me the okay."

However, I didn't know that while I finished my part-time job and returned home at 6 in the evening, the researchers were accustomed to taking their work home, often working late into the night and sometimes even pulling all-nighters.

In the summer, my girlfriend obtained her certification as a tax accountant. I rambled on to her about corporations and environmental destruction, but she was facing reality.

In this same year, the Tokyo-Saitama Serial Child Abduction and Murder Case occurred, where the perpetrator sent a statement to the media, kidnapped a young girl, burned her body in the wild, and sent the victim's bones to the family, plunging Japan into a bottomless pit of terror.