AdAge: Director Goh Iromoto on Seeing Life Through the Lens of Two Worlds

Growing up, I longed to be white. As an adult, I’m grateful to be Asian. A blend of these two cultures and perspectives form the filmmaker I am today.

As a Japanese child born in Canada during the ’80s, every part of me wanted to belong. In grade school, I wished my name was different because it became the root of many jokes. I asked my mother to stop making bento boxes for lunch and switch to sandwiches. In high school, I bleached my hair blond. When friends would quip that I was “yellow on the outside, but white on the inside,” my youthful self felt comfort and solace. 

Over the years, I subconsciously became attuned to understanding how to “act and sound successful” (white). It’s what I told myself was the reason I broke through the difficult barrier of entry into film and advertising.

I recall minor setbacks, like the time I lost a pitch involving farmers in the Midwest. I was told the other director grew up on a family-owned farm dating back multiple generations. Likely there were other reasons that led to the decision, but it was a small reminder that my own background and experiences weren’t aligned with where I wanted to go.

On the outside, I supported meaningful dialogue that became front row in every meeting. But on the inside, I felt discomfort. As someone who spent the majority of their life trying to shun their Asian identity in an attempt to be like everyone else, it was an unexpected conflict to have my culture pointed out. I wanted to support the effort to make a much-needed push for diversity, but also wanted to be validated for my work, not for being Asian. As it was for many others, this period was a time of deep reflection for me.

Thanks to those who took the time to exchange heart-to-heart discussions, to the thousands of voices in the AANHPI community who boldly shared their personal stories online, and to the young mentees I had met who showed there exists a plethora of extraordinary talents that lacked the opportunity to be seen, I’m grateful to everyone who helped me discover a newfound perspective and acceptance of my culture and myself. 

My parents taught me hard work and perseverance. They showed me how to follow my instincts. They instilled the beauty of the Japanese language. And because of it, I’ve been blessed to see life through the lens of two worlds this entire time. To bridge and connect two perspectives. To always see that there is another viewpoint to any story.

I grew up pitting one culture against another. The classic narrative of creating binaries. A social-comparison bias where I didn’t see the value in what my own cultural heritage blessed me with. I didn’t see that it was me as a whole that helped me grow in my career, not my “whiteness.”

Today, my email signature proudly lists my name both in English and Japanese kanji symbols. A subtle gesture, but full of meaning and a reminder of the two worlds I’m proud to be part of. A constant reminder to myself of why it’s important to continue sharing personal stories in hopes it helps others like myself.