If Tetsuya were to tell everyone one thing about his name, he would say that his favorite part about his name is that there is the word "tetsu" in it. In Kanji, "Tetsu" has a variety of meanings: it means devotion, resilience, integrity, and wisdom. As reflected by the implications of the name, Tetsuya's philosophy revolves around these words.

When I entered the common room in Barn, Tetsuya was already seated on the couch, wearing his soccer jersey, side fringe unkempt from the soccer game. "Shall we start?" I pulled a chair and settled myself. "Sure! But what language should I be speaking?" Although looking messy and tired, Tetsuya's voice is zealous, much as he texts with an exclamation point at the end of each sentence. "Whatever you feel comfortable with, preferably English, so that I don't have to translate what you say." 

I asked Tetsuya to share about his experience growing up. Tetsuya chuckled. "Growing up? What do you mean what was it like growing up?" Tetsuya said with a grin on his face. Growing up as half Japanese and half Chinese, Tetsuya had "an interesting experience growing up in three different countries." He went to an international middle school in China. "When I was in the international school, there were many students from different countries. It was pretty cool that everyone spoke different languages, and also all the teachers were from different countries, so that was pretty cool." 

It was when COVID first started in China that Tetsuya's family moved to Japan, getting ready for Japanese high school, but Tetsuya made a decision that pushed him out of his comfort zone. "All of a sudden, my mom was like, 'you gotta go out of your comfort zone; I think you should try to go to other countries like the U.S. It's your own option, and I just don't want you to regret it,’" Tetsuya recalled. Having the opportunity to study in the U.S. was "rare compared to studying in Japanese public schools." So Tetsuya came to an American high school as a 9th-grader.

"So, how was your freshman year?" I asked. As a dorm-mate passed by the common room, having no idea that we were doing an interview, she blurted out, "He was very shy in 9th grade." Everyone in the common room burst out laughing. "I feel like freshman year was very harsh on you; you were like a little kid," another dorm-mate added. Talking about his struggles in his freshman year, Tetsuya sat straight up on the couch, sounding more excited than usual. For a freshman international student, moving to a different country could be "quite challenging and difficult." When Tetsuya first came to the States, everything was a cultural shock. He had "an honest dialogue writing in the diary." He wrote in his diary: "Tetsuya Tanaka: Wow. I did not expect the school to be so small. Shouldn’t all the buildings be connected? Why is it all outdoor? It's so rural. Where is this?"

Tetsuya described himself as "very, very, very quiet" as a freshman. Now the representative of the Judicial Board, co-head of the Sustainability Committee, and peer mentor of the new students, Tetsuya did not participate in any of the clubs or committees in his freshman year. In class, Tetsuya was also very shy. "I was also very introverted, so at Socratic seminars, I was not able to speak. In Ayako's Socratic seminar in my freshman year, I was terrified. My heartbeat was like, literally, ‘cause I have always been terrified of speaking in front of people; it's been like that since I was in Japan and China.”

Although it feels like I have known Tetsuya for a long time, I am certainly more familiar with the extroverted and enthusiastic Tetsuya. It was hard for me to imagine him being a shy and quiet person, so talking about the experience of public speaking makes me feel more connected to a side of Tetsuya that I have never known.

"I'm also scared of public speaking, and I get nervous, even in Socratic seminars," I admitted.

Tetsuya recalled more details about his first Socratic seminar in Ayako's class in his first year in the U.S. Sitting in the first row in the classroom, Tetsuya had his first seminar. "But I noticed in the U.S, they don't raise their hands to speak, which was very shocking for me, and I was not used to just saying my own opinion without raising my hand. I didn't know when I was allowed to speak and when I was not." As I share a similar cultural background with Tetsuya, his experience is very relatable to me. "In my old school in China, teachers would call certain students to answer questions." I shrugged.

"Right! Yes, so that's what I thought. You can ask Ayako. I was about to pass out in the class; my hand was shaking, and I was like, ugh, but I tried my absolute best. Having my hands shaking, I raised my hands for the first time and said something very simple." We laughed at the same time, both knowing that it was not easy, but Tetsuya still believed that he had learned from his experience. Before the second seminar, Tetsuya lay down on the floor in Barn and felt that he had "no way of going back." In the second seminar, with eyes squeezed shut, he went up being the one who started the Socratic seminar. "With all the effort I could. I went up and spoke twice; I was committed."

It was in Tetsuya's sophomore year when the changes started to happen. With the help of an upperclassman in Barn, Tetsuya then joined the MUN (Model United Nation) club. "Everyone was persuading me that I have to socialize and join clubs and committees. Even on the last day before some of the dorm-mates in Barn graduated, we talked about it until 3am. So I felt like I should probably take action."

Speaking of MUN, one of his biggest passions, Tetsuya slapped his thigh and said: "My first time in Harvard Model United Nations Congress. I did very badly." Before the conference, Tetsuya did more than 24 hours of research, watching hours of videos online. "I did A BUNCH of research, you must understand. I read all the articles." However, being with more experienced experts in MUN was "at a different level" for Tetsuya. Not knowing how the procedures work in a conference, Tetsuya only spoke once in 4 days, but that one time speaking at the conference was unforgettable for him. 

"I knew I had to at least say something. So I did speak." Tetsuya almost made a whimpering sound. "Yeah. Everyone was clapping their hands, saying, ‘Good job! You did it!’ to me. They were very kind. I still remember the delegate, New Jersey 7, democrat, said ‘good job’ to me,and I was so moved." That became "a great experience" for Tetsuya. After this experience, Tetsuya realized he was actually feeling regret for not speaking at the conference, so he decided to do more MUN and improve public speaking.

Then, Tetsuya went to multiple MUN conferences and training sessions with “the best delegates." Changes always happen, but Tetsuya chooses to grow. Difficulties and challenges become teachers; failures become opportunities. He said earnestly, "I don't know how many tears I have cried for MUN. Every time I lose, I feel incompetent, like I don't have the ability to succeed, but I guess I gotta try more. This is practice; this is experience. You can only practice to be better." Tetsuya’s hard work finally pays off. Public speaking has become much easier for Tetsuya now. "When I go to a class meeting or assembly, it just feels better to do the speech. Everyone is supportive, and it just feels like a family," Tetsuya said proudly.

One last question that I asked Tetsuya was if he wanted to go back home after experiencing all the difficulties. He answered "Yes" firmly without hesitation. "Give me a ticket back to Japan, and I will go back immediately," he said jokingly. "I feel most secure in Japan, but without coming to the United States, I would not be the Tetsuya now."