We all grow up with myths that guide us. Some wear capes. Some live next door. Others disappear from the map. When we look closely, even without superpowers, we can still uncover truth, memory, and meaning.

When I was a kid growing up in the middle of nowhere, Wyoming, I thought I might be Superman, or at least adopted from Krypton. I didn’t have X-ray vision unless you count squinting hard enough to read the cereal box, but I did have a strong sense that I was supposed to live by some kind of heroic code.

In my memoir, Views from Beyond Metropolis, I reimagine what Superman’s “American Way” might look like today—not truth, justice, and unquestioning conformity, but truth, justice, and cultural competence.

Spoiler alert: you don’t need superpowers for that.

The 500 Block Was My Fortress of Solitude: Superman had his Fortress of Solitude. I had West 17th Street. Specifically, the 400 and 500 blocks in downtown Cheyenne were once home to a thriving Japanese American neighborhood. My grandfather owned a pool hall at 512 West 17th Street, adjacent to the City Cafe, where my grandmother prepared Japanese and American cuisine.

That was the setting for much of my early life and the historical backdrop of Views from Beyond Metropolis. Today, most of it’s paved over.

If city planners had X-ray vision, maybe they could see the noodle houses, produce stands, and bustling community spirit still lingering beneath the concrete.

Why does Superman still matter? Superman always straddled two identities: the alien outsider and the all-American hero. For me, growing up Japanese American after World War II, that tension felt familiar. We weren’t sent to War Relocation Camps like many West Coast families, but we still felt the overt stings of racism, like slurs and stares. Some of it is more subtle, like being complimented on how well we speak English.

In the book, I discuss how those experiences shaped my sense of cultural competence, which involves recognizing bias, responding with civility, and adapting to a diverse world. It turns out that you can learn a great deal about inclusion by observing how Superman handles villainy. (Pro tip: laser eyes are not required.)

The Real Superpower? Seeing What’s Missing: One of Superman’s powers was the ability to see through walls. Mine has been the ability to see through stories, especially the ones that erase people who look like me.

Views from Beyond Metropolis explores not only my family’s legacy, like my grandfather’s incarceration at the Tulare in 1942 and my uncle’s detour through the Puyallup assembly centers, but also the larger patterns of legalized oppression in America from slavery to Japanese internment to suburban redlining.

I attended the 2025 Camp Amache Pilgrimage in southeastern Colorado, where the Ireichō book of names lists the 127,000 Japanese incarcerated during World War II. The book verified the whereabouts of my grandfather and uncle.

Sounds heavy, I know, but that’s why I keep it grounded with humor and lived experience. Being mistaken for someone’s Kung Fu teacher in the middle of a grocery store checkout line teaches you to laugh and educate.

Why Read Views from Beyond Metropolis?

In Views from Beyond Metropolis, I suggest that it’s time we evolve it:

• From rugged individualism to interdependence.
• From assimilation to belonging.
• From monoculture to shared culture.

Maybe you don’t need X-ray vision to be a hero. Perhaps you simply need the ability to see others clearly, especially those that history tries to forget.

• You don’t have to be Japanese American.
• You don’t have to be from Wyoming.
• You don’t have to like Superman (though it helps).

If you’ve ever …

• Felt like an outsider looking in,
• Been teased for how you look, speak, or live,
• Witnessed bias and didn’t know how to respond, or
• Realized, maybe uncomfortably, that you’ve been the one who didn’t see clearly

… this book is for you.

In Views from Beyond Metropolis, I use my lived experience, growing up Japanese American in post-war Wyoming, assimilating and still having to navigate subtle racism, and learning from everyday heroes, to help readers:

• Understand how bias works (and how to undo it)
• See through the myths of Superman’s American Way that exclude more than they include
• Find humor and hope in hard truths
• Learn practical techniques for building cultural competency and community

It’s not just a memoir. It’s a lens. And it might help you see yourself—and others—more clearly.

👉 Buy the book.
👉 Start the conversation.
👉 Be the hero in your own story.

If you have questions or comments, message the ALAN-BCM BOT. We learn more and more every day!