A Story About What We Value

Guest Post – Jason Lacsamana, Director, Programs and Partnerships

We recently returned from a family trip to Japan, which not only left me with beautiful memories but also with a lot to reflect on about culture, values, and the meaning of community. I’ve always believed in getting out of your comfort zone, not just physically, but culturally. There’s something powerful about stepping into a space where your norms aren’t dominant, and where you are asked to see the world through a different lens.

This trip was exactly that kind of experience. Japan is so different from what many of us know in the U.S. Here in the States, individualism often takes center stage. In contrast, Japanese culture is collective. There’s an overriding respect for others, a clear commitment to public safety and cleanliness, and a communal sense of responsibility that shows up in small but meaningful ways.

One story that shows this was an experience my brother and his family had. On the first day of their trip, they were rushing to get on a tour. In the chaos of moving a family of five, they accidentally left their stroller loaded with all their essentials behind. It had money, electronics, even a gaming system. In an American context, especially at a busy tourist destination, we’d all expect the story to end with the stroller and personal belongings never being recovered.

But that’s not what happened. Eight hours later, after a full tour day far removed from where they had left the stroller, they were told it had been found. Their original taxi driver had it but didn’t know how to return it. So, he brought it back to where he had dropped my brother’s family and left it there. Community members who were complete strangers noticed it and contacted authorities to make sure it was returned, if possible. Eventually, the police picked it up, sealed it neatly in plastic, and stored it until my brother could pick it up.

Everything was intact. Every item was returned.

It was such a simple but very profound moment. To me, this story isn’t about a lost stroller. It’s about a community coming together to look out for someone they didn’t even know. A stroller belonging to outsiders was treated with care, attention, and respect, because that’s what you do when you live in a community-centered culture.

It made me think about how rare that experience would be here in the U.S., and what it says about what we value. It’s not that Americans don’t care about community. We do. But our systems and social norms often prioritize self over collective responsibility. That’s a hard truth, but it’s also one that we can learn from and build on. I’m grateful that traveling opens my eyes and my family’s eyes to other perspectives.

Of course, not everyone can travel. But I believe you don’t have to get on a plane to experience another culture. Some of the richest learning can happen without leaving our neighborhoods through conversation, books, and deep listening.

One of the things I’ve made a point of doing with my kids this past year is visiting our local library. We check out several books at a time—everything from graphic novels to biographies to books about other cultures and communities. There’s a saying that each library holds a thousand adventures, and I believe it. Our libraries are windows to the world. And right now, when many libraries are under attack, it’s even more critical that we recognize their role in building empathy and understanding.

We also have incredible sources of wisdom, which are sometimes right next door. There are elders who’ve lived through the civil rights movement, neighbors who’ve immigrated from other countries, and people whose life experiences can open our eyes if we take the time to listen. Listening to their stories is another form of travel that can open our eyes just as much as travel.

Our trip to Japan (and to the library) made me grateful for the reminder of what’s possible when community comes first. I’m bringing home a lesson I hope to live out in both small moments and big decisions with my family and my community.