An interview with Mika Iwano, a pediatric emergency physician, about her early (and sometimes scary!) memories of encountering English, the study methods she immersed herself in during junior and senior high school, her decision to forgo studying abroad and attend a Japanese university instead, and the English she now uses as a doctor in the U.S. when communicating with patients and their parents.
岩野 仁香 Mika Iwano
A pediatric emergency physician working in Buffalo, New York. Born in Hamburg, Germany, she grew up in Nishinomiya, Hyogo, from the age of two. In 2007, she spent a year in San Diego, California, as a Rotary Foundation Ambassadorial Scholar. After graduating from Kansai Medical University, she completed her initial training and part of her advanced training at Hyogo College of Medicine Hospital before moving to the United States in 2012. She undertook a residency in general pediatrics and a fellowship in pediatric hospital medicine in Brooklyn, New York. Currently in her second year of pediatric emergency medicine fellowship, she is also a diplomate of the American Board of Pediatrics and the mother of one child. When speaking Japanese, she surprises new acquaintances with her strong Kansai dialect.
Mika Iwano, often called “Jinka,” works as a pediatric emergency fellow at a children’s hospital in Buffalo, New York. She has been there since June of the previous year and is halfway through a three-year fellowship program following her pediatric residency. After practicing in Japan for three and a half years, she moved to the U.S. in 2012 to pursue further training.
Mika explains that Japan does not yet have a formalized pathway for pediatric emergency medicine. Traditionally, general pediatricians rotated through emergency departments. More recently, some adult emergency physicians also treat children, while others specialize in pediatric emergency medicine—but official certification is still lacking. This was a key reason she sought training in the United States.
At work, Mika uses English exclusively, while at home she speaks Japanese with her 1.5-year-old son and other local Japanese mothers. Her professional environment is fully English-speaking.
Her first contact with English was through weekly classes in elementary school. These classes involved songs like “I’m a Little Teapot,” picture-based vocabulary, and recitations such as “There is a book under the desk.”
Her teacher, Ms. Ueda, was a strict, elderly woman who insisted on students standing and greeting her with “Good morning, Ueda-sensei” rather than “Miss/Mrs./Ms.” Despite the intimidating atmosphere, Mika participated enthusiastically.
She recalls small but vivid details: vocabulary like “hamburger steak” and “cup and saucer,” cutting and pasting worksheets, memorizing passages, and being scolded for forgetting supplies. Although her pronunciation received only a “△” (mediocre) mark, her extroverted personality made her eager to volunteer in class, even when competing with returnee students who had native-like fluency.
At her all-girls Protestant secondary school, English was taught entirely in English by pairs of Japanese and missionary teachers. She studied phonetics, conversation, grammar, and even speed reading. Unlike typical Japanese schools, she never learned grammar through Japanese explanations.
Outside of class, she immersed herself in American TV dramas like Friends, Dawson’s Creek, and Beverly Hills 90210. She practiced “shadowing” the lines, imitating speech and intonation, and corresponded with international students and host families. This combination of structured classes and self-driven practice deepened her love of English.
In high school, she spent six weeks in rural South Australia with nine other Japanese students. Unlike many peers, she had no difficulty communicating in English and enjoyed adapting to the Australian accent and vocabulary. Although she disliked aspects of rural life such as camping, she found the language exposure rewarding. This experience fueled her determination to pursue further study abroad.
After returning from Australia, Mika decided she wanted to attend an American university. She enrolled in a prep school in Osaka that specialized in TOEFL and SAT training, where most students were returnees or international school graduates. From age 17, she spent hours daily studying in English-only environments, rapidly improving her skills.
She became obsessed with vocabulary, memorizing synonyms with the help of thesauruses, drills, and hundreds of notebooks filled with word lists. Her TOEFL and SAT scores steadily improved, supported by her parents’ encouragement and financial backing. She was accepted into UC Irvine (Political Science) and UC Santa Barbara.
Despite her acceptance to American universities, Mika had a change of heart. While helping at her father’s medical clinic, she realized the value of caring for children as a physician. She canceled her U.S. plans, spent a year preparing, and entered a Japanese medical school. This decision set her on the path to becoming a pediatrician and eventually a pediatric emergency specialist.
During her exam prep year, Mika was told by her prep school not to study English because her level was already “good enough.” She was exempted from English classes and instructed to focus on math, having switched from the humanities track to the sciences.
Still, she secretly studied English once a week at a private cram school in Osaka, where she enjoyed reading aloud and memorizing vocabulary books. Thursdays became her “English day,” something she looked forward to with excitement.
After entering medical school, Mika’s “English ban” was lifted. Through dance, she visited the U.S., volunteered at a children’s long-term care facility in Florida, and spent time with Japanese-American families in Chicago. She later participated in short-term medical training in Houston and, during her 6th year, studied in San Diego for a year.
Back in Japan, she was often asked to step in whenever English was needed—whether for foreign guests at her university, research presentations, or even while working part-time at a GAP store, where she wore an “I speak English” badge.
Mika’s reputation as someone reliable in English quickly spread. She was called on for tasks ranging from proofreading posters to interpreting at conferences.
One notable episode occurred during an international medical conference in Kyoto, where she was tasked with airport pickups, hosting receptions, and even giving a speech explaining the difference between maiko and geiko. She recalls doing all this with enthusiasm, though she laughs now about how her medical background was largely irrelevant to these assignments.
Working with children in the U.S., Mika learned to adjust her English depending on age and context. During examinations, she sometimes used medical terms that were too advanced, and parents would naturally simplify her words for their child.
She also reflected on subtle language nuances, such as the American use of “Sure” instead of “Yes, please,” which initially felt odd to her. When speaking with children, she avoided overusing baby talk like “boo-boo” or “ouch,” instead adapting her usual professional tone to a simpler register.
Mika emphasized the difficulty of balancing her role as a doctor with her identity as a non-native speaker. Patients sometimes judged her at first glance, so she would raise the sophistication of her English to assert professionalism.
However, working in New York, where diverse Englishes are spoken, helped her feel confident. She rarely doubted her own ability to communicate and took misunderstandings in stride, chalking them up to differences in background rather than shortcomings in her English.
She shared amusing examples of language confusion, such as not recognizing the playground word “teeter-totter” (seesaw) or the snack brand “Funyuns,” highlighting the importance of asking questions without hesitation.
For Japanese doctors aiming to train or work in the U.S., Mika stresses the importance of constant exposure to English: reading, listening, asking questions, and speaking as much as possible.
She recommends having someone to turn to for questions—especially someone who understands the Japanese background—and making active use of television and the internet as resources.
