Last summer, Children's Express members traveled across the country talking to young people about what it means to be American and live in a country so diverse. Many of the stories collected are being compiled into a book to be published in 1997.

We spoke with Sean Sand and Denise Sugawara, two young Japanese-Americans, while they were visiting Indianapolis from Seattle. Sean, 26, lived in Indianapolis for part of his childhood. His father was born in the United States; his mother was born in Japan.

Denise, 24, spent her entire childhood in Seattle. Her family has been in the United States for four generations.

Their stories greatly contrast with each other. Sean had a tough time accepting his identity as an Asian-American and always felt different from his childhood friends. Denise, on the other hand, never thought about being Japanese and feels very comfortable with herself and her heritage.

The following are their stories:

SEAN: We left Tacoma, Washington, and we moved to Indianapolis when I was a sixth-grader. Before we could find a house in the city of Indianapolis, I lived in a town called Noblesville.

That's when I first encountered racial slurs. All there was was white people (compared to) Tacoma, which is very diversified as far as Asians, blacks and Hispanics. I didn't know what was going on. All I wanted to do was go back to Seattle.

I remember one thing specifically: I was riding my bike home and I had my fishing pole and some worms in my hand, and some guy pushes me off my bike. I was 12 and he tells me, "Here, eat these worms," and he's shoving them in my face (saying), "Don't you like raw food?"

And then I moved to the city of Indianapolis, which has a bigger black/white count. I figured I wouldn't get any racial slurs from the black guys because they're minorities themselves. But then I got racial slurs from them, you know, little jokes like, "Hey Chinese" or "Hey China man." And I'm not even Chinese.

In the Midwest, people don't say Asian-American, they call you "Oriental," and (that) is not what they call you out in the state of Washington, which has a long history of Japanese culture. (These Midwesterners) think that if someone is Asian, they just automatically think he is Chinese.

"I always felt different"

(At school,) I always felt different when I walked through the hallways. I knew I looked different. People made jokes like, "He's got slanted eyes" or "high I.Q." or maybe "small and skinny and can't play any sports." I didn't feel like I fit into that mode.

I wasn't very good academically, but I was a great athlete when I went to school. I played two to three sports from freshman to senior year and I had a lot of friends. I was even class president when I went to Lawrence North my sophomore year.

So you could say that I should have nothing to complain about. But all it takes is one or two incidents to make you feel not good in your skin.

My freshman year at Lawrence North High School, I remember one incident where (my friends) were all going to meet before one of the Friday night football games. I came a little late and my parents dropped me off.

I thought I looked nice. I had bought a new cap and everything. Then some little kids pointed at me and said, "Ew, Chinese, Chinese" like it was bad, like it was some kind of disfigurement.

I felt terrible. I didn't want to go to the game. I wanted to cry a little bit because I didn't feel like I looked like the Elephant Man or something. All I was was just Asian-American.

But back then, I didn't think of Asian, I just thought of myself as being American. When I checked (the box) when I took the SAT, I always put Caucasian. I always thought people associated me with looking like my father, who is white.

My dad is 6-foot-4, has blue eyes, blond hair - you know, the all-American guy. He was in the military. We moved a lot. My dad was kind of in and out of the house.

My mom was the only one there the whole time. My mom is real old-fashioned. . . . She comes from a small town in Japan.

I have two younger sisters. Out of the three, I have the darker features. My little sister, her hair is very "white."

I used to try to wash with soap as hard as I could on my skin and hope that I was whiter. It sounds terrible - there was a time I wished I didn't look like my mom. I wished my mom was white. I hated being different. All I wanted to do was just fit in and not get teased.

It was hard. I knew my mom probably knew that, too, but she never cried; she never said anything.

I think she was so strong into making it in America and being American. She doesn't discuss going back to Japan. She has an attitude like, "I'm here, I'm here to stay, I made a choice to be here, and I'm going to be American."

My awakening was when I moved to Seattle and saw how different it is. People take pride in themselves and feel good (about their culture). People don't look at someone and say, "He's Asian." They are just American.

I didn't feel like I had to say I was white American or that my father was white and try to take that side. I could finally identify as being Asian- American and say that I am American. Even though my mother is Asian, I am still as American as anyone else.

When I saw that to be evident in Seattle, that's when I started to get ahold of that pride of being an Asian- American. I put American next to Asian. Before I was just Asian.

DENISE: I came from a small, typical family - two parents, two siblings, a dog and a nice house. My whole family lives in Seattle.

I grew up in Seattle my entire life, so I had a lot of the same friends from when I was in kindergarten or grade school. Where I lived, there were just about (every race): blacks, Hispanics and all different races.

So, when I was growing up, there was no racial slurs. We didn't really think about it, whether someone was black or white, especially in grade school. I never was ashamed of my skin, my hair color or looking different.

If you go to a city like Seattle, it's like nothing matters. You don't even think about it. You don't give anything a second thought.

Like at my high school, I was senior class president and one of my good friends, who is Chinese-American, was all-student-body president. That's like the normal thing. Whereas I think schools here, that would be strange, especially for two people in one year.

American for many years

Coming from a fourth-generation family, my family has been in the U.S. forever. My grandparents were born here. My grandpa graduated from the University of Washington and my father went to the University of Washington. We've had an American heritage. My parents grew up going to baseball games and being part of America.

My grandparents, both sides, were in (the Japanese concentration camps (during World War II). . . . They are all the same age. They were all in college. My grandfather was left in school, but my grandmother and my other grandfather were pulled out of school, and they were never able to go back.

My grandmother was going to be a schoolteacher, but she was a seamstress for a lot of years. . . . It was pretty awful. My grandfather fought in World War II in Italy.

That's one thing Japanese are funny about: They don't really say anything. They don't like to elaborate on their emotions. Like if you asked my grandmother (about the internment), she tries to make light of it.

My parents' generation dropped basically all Japanese tradition when they came out of the camp. But with my generation, it's coming back.

The women, my mother and her mother, are very strong women. We believe in doing things for ourselves. I think if there is going to be any kind of guidance, that is where I look to. EDITED BY: Erica Bellamy, 14. ASSISTANT EDITOR: Lisa Schubert, 16.