"Sensei." Along with "sayonara," that is one of the first words most of us learn when we come to Japan. Though the image has been somewhat tarnished in these recent years of school disorders and juvenile delinquency, traditionally the word sensei, or teacher, has been one of the most honorific terms that can be used in Japan, and throughout most of East Asia as well. Elementary-school teachers, college professors, Diet members, all are called sensei, but sensei has an even deeper meaning. The original reading of the Chinese characters is "born before," signifying the Confucian respect for elders, those who have preceded us. We respect them and rely on their wisdom. It is a comforting word, signifying both closeness and deference. I don't think there is any way to express an equivalent of this feeling in English.

As an American noting that our national day is observed on the Fourth of July, I have been thinking of sensei in another context, remembering the many Americans whose translations and other writings have made it possible for us to understand and appreciate more deeply the values and culture of an ever-changing Japan. What makes the Japanese the way they are? Why do they think the way they do? Where is the motivation that makes them excel in so many fields? Japan may seem different, even baffling, but a deeper understanding can be gained through the knowledge provided by language, and only then can we begin to crack the barriers that may otherwise prevent a deeper relationship with this exceptional country. For this, most of us are dependent upon those who translate Japanese into English.

Today, when literally thousands of Japanese-speaking Americans and other foreign, young people are here in Japan doing a multiplicity of jobs -- secretaries to Diet members, translators, teachers (themselves sensei), journalists, and workers in banks, securities companies, high-tech industries and automobile enterprises -- it is hard to look back on the United States in the immediate post-Pearl Harbor period.