During this time filled with uncertainty and fears, we are left with our own thoughts and emotions, much time for introspection, and perhaps, welcome an outlet to grapple with what weighs heavy on our hearts.  Since Shelter-in-Place, instructor Grace Morizawa shared that the writing group has been busy unearthing deep layers of thought and reflections.   We invite you to try this writing prompt for yourself, for your loved ones, or perhaps to share with friends in the community.

Write on a topic that relates to today—a time of uncertainty, a time you faced an unknown, a time you experienced solitude, and/or how you experience comfort. Then weave throughout the piece what that experience meant to you or says about life.

If you are willing, we invite you to submit it to be shared.  Or send us a note to say, “Thanks, I did it.”  Send your writing or note to jill@j-sei.org

REFLECTION ON COVID 19

by Leslie Tsukamoto, May 2020

Day 78. This evening will be the first time I’ve seen my grandchildren in 78 days. Telephone calls, text messages and Zoom calls have kept us in touch, but not touching. How I’ve missed those hugs and kisses.

When we arrived, masks in place, I was at once joyful at seeing my family in person, but incredibly sad that this special day is being celebrated under such a dark cloud of illness, racial strife, violence and uncertainty. My grandson, Bryan, is graduating high school, cheated of the opportunity to partake in the usual fanfare of senior prom, year book signing, and receiving his diploma in front of family and friends. But, he’s smiling in his cap and gown, adorned with money leis, and excited and relieved that his high school days have been successfully completed. I’m teary eyed as any proud grandmother would be, putting on a happy face but inwardly both angry and resentful because he deserves so much more.

Lauryn, age 14, is also celebrating her promotion from eighth grade and taking that momentous step of going to high school. No one can say yet what that’s going to look like, but outwardly, she’s taking it all in stride. She still smiles that beautiful smile and talks with anticipation about her fears and excitement of starting high school.

I’ve related to them of times in the past when I wondered what was happening to our country and how we would survive. The assassinations of the Kennedys, MLK, the Viet Nam war, the murder of their uncle because he was a police officer. I tried to reassure them that there are good people in the world and over time, things will change for the better. And perhaps, naively, I believed this could happen. Unfortunately, it has not.

What should I have been doing, and what should I be doing now? I want to help make this world a safer and better place for all, especially the young people with their whole lives ahead of them, eagerly looking forward to joyful and productive futures. I want a country where those in power don’t continually work to create a two class society, the haves and have nots. Vote? I do that. Support my church and other worthwhile organizations. I do that. Treat all people with respect. I do that. It’s not enough. I rationalize and tell myself that we do what we can do, but increasingly, I feel powerless and inadequate. I owe my grandchildren and all children more. This consumes my thoughts daily and I have no answers.

This being an evening of celebration and reunion, we enjoyed eating together and finally being able to be share stories in person and look each other in the eye, although still masked. We laughed when we got too close, in violation of social distancing. It reminded us of better times and how important we are to each other for our well being. When it came time to leave, I reluctantly left, with everyone giving each other virtual kisses and hugs and words of love. It was bittersweet. I still miss those real kisses and hugs!

 

Joy in the Apocalypse: Ruminations driving through the devastation

by  Chiaki Hirai, April 22, 2020

A lone Vespa scooter putters through quiet roads overtaken by weeds. Its driver, Alpha, stops at a sleepy gas station where she asks for a full tank of gas. The old station attendant doesn’t seem to be too stressed by the fact she’s the first customer in a week. Alpha continues on through the quiet and empty roads until she comes to an abrupt stop, realizing the sea has risen to flood another road leading to Yokohama.

These are the first few pages of Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou. At first glance, Ashinano Hitoshi’s 1995 sci-fi world seems no more than a quiet and rural part of modern Japan, but the easygoing protagonists live amidst ruin in what would have been the metropolitan Tokyo Bay. Entire cities have sunk and an untold number of lives have likely been shattered, yet the comic takes solace, even joy, in depicting the beauty of the world as humanity sits back to accept its fate.

I recalled these ruins as I drove down Highway 24 in California on my way to work amid a worldwide pandemic.

Dark grey clouds wafted overhead, but the air was fairly clear and San Francisco’s cityscape gleamed in the distance. There was hardly a car around me, even though I was driving at 8 a.m. What would normally be a packed freeway with bumper-to-bumper traffic, I sped through without pause on my way across the Bay Bridge.

There is beauty in desolation.

 

The article was first published online with Anime Feminist.  For the full article, click the link here:

Joy in the Apocalypse: Ruminations driving through desolation

I Am Ready

by Joanne Wong, April 14, 2020

Starting here, what do I want to remember?
I want to remember how now I am unable to do things, like
Visit my family anytime without a second thought,
Go out for a meal or coffee with a friend,
Greet those I know with a hug,
Run down to the grocery store at the last minute for a forgotten item.

I want to remember during walks around the neighborhood
Having to veer around people we approach so we are no closer than 6 feet,
greeting them with a wave of our hand.
I want to remember
Being anxious for fear of contracting this terrible disease we have no control
over
Feeling a sense of vulnerability and a loss of freedom.

I want to remember these things because they remind me not to take my daily life
For granted.
I want to remember so that I have a sense of appreciation for how my parents felt when they were sent
to Arkansas, having no control over their lives.
I want to remember that although this is a bump in the road, I have so much to
be thankful for.
I have a wonderful family and caring and thoughtful friends.
I have a roof over my head and food to eat.
I will get through this. I am ready.

Effects of a Pandemic

By Joanne Wong, March 30, 2020

I sit here thinking about what I can write concerning the situation we are all in right now and my mind draws a blank. I don’t think I have ever been in a position like this before. My feelings run from being frightened, sad, insecure, anxious, yet hopeful that this will pass and life will return to normal, whatever normal is.

I think about my parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts who are no longer here, and as much as I miss them, I’m grateful that they do not have to experience the fear of catching this horrible virus that has invaded our lives. Then I recall all the tragedies they endured and somehow managed to prevail, bruised, but not defeated and I realize that their hardships far outweigh this one event that I am experiencing now. They faced racism, the depression, and to top it all, although U.S. citizens, having their freedom taken from them. I keep telling myself, “I’ll be okay.” I wonder what they thought to themselves.

In the meantime, all of a sudden, I’m thinking of all the things I must get done during this time of uncertainty. There’s cleaning to do, paperwork to organize or get rid of, letters to write, and projects to finish. Top priority was to finish projects that I started and never bothered to finish. As I work on these projects, I wonder why they were never completed. Perhaps I subconsciously saved them for a time when I would need them to distract me from some devastation that would occur.

Prior to COVID-19, I was taking a boro bag making class at JASEI. Boro bags are made from pieces of scrap fabric that, when patched together, result in an interesting purse. I learned that the Japanese have always been very creative and clever in using every bit of fabric, without a waste. The boro bag was a result of this Japanese characteristic. We had one more session left when all classes at J-SEI were temporarily discontinued. Although almost everyone else in the class finished their bag, I still needed that last class to finish mine. I was determined to finish that bag, so that became my first completion project. I worked on the bag, enjoying and admiring each piece of fabric and remembering how I acquired them. They brought back fond memories of trips to the flea markets in Japan. I remember falling in love with the handwoven, hand dyed kasuri fabrics. Although one could tell that the pieces for sale were once part of someone’s well-worn kimono or yukata, they were treasures to me.

Rummaging through my closet, I found another half sewn purse. The fabric for this project was from a yukata belonging to my aunt. Knowing that I would not wear the yukata, I took it apart and kept the fabric for who knows what. For some reason, I cut out pieces from a Japanese purse pattern, and after a little bit of sewing, put it away in the closet. Last week, while cleaning my closet, I found the pieces and began completion of project number two. As I sewed the purse together, I thought about my aunt and how I missed my visits with her.

About 5 or 6 years ago, my daughter, Amy, presented me with 4 Sashiko coaster kits. Although I had never done Sashiko before, I found it challenging to learn a new skill. I couldn’t understand the directions written in Japanese, so I tried imitating the illustrations. I completed the sashiko part of the coasters, but again, shoved the stitched fabric away in the closet. Now, because of COVID-19, I have 4 new coasters.

Each of those projects provided me with welcomed diversion from the “more depressing by the day” news on the television.
I miss being able to go out without so many restrictions. I miss being able to get together with friends. I’m sad that I won’t be able to see my children and grandchildren in April as we had planned. I am fearful that we are all so vulnerable and that someone I know may come down with this wicked virus.

There is a lesson to be learned from this period of time, however. People seem to be kinder and more thoughtful of each other. As a country, we need to return to the days when people and their lives mattered.

Utah on my mind

By Jonathan Hirabayashi, March 30, 2020

This first paragraph is an overview of the situation to give what follows some context. About a year ago, I designed an exhibit, Topaz Stories, which was on display at J-Sei for three months during the summer of 2019. This exhibit was seen by a Utahan who had political connections and we were able to schedule an expanded version of Topaz Stories in the Utah State Capitol Building from June 8-December 22, 2020. I was planning to produce all the panels here and then drive the exhibit to Salt Lake City in a rental truck. Currently, the exhibit is on hold and will hopefully be re-scheduled.

For about a month though, during which Topaz Stories was still slated for opening in June and with the ever expanding COVID-19 news, I started having all these random thoughts on how to deal with transporting and installing the exhibit. These stream of consciousness thoughts are not listed chronologically, but I grouped them into a framework just to make it less confusing. And finally, I emailed them to the the Topaz Stories committee when they were polling everyone’s thoughts about postponing the exhibit.

Getting There: • Gotta get at least a quart of isopropyl alcohol to spray down that truck cab. Maybe 2 quarts, the stuff is cheap. • I could probably make Salt Lake non-stop with a 6-pack of Red Bull and Coke. Don’t wanna stop and stay in a motel (eek!). • I could stop in Winnemucca and join the overnight RV crowd in the Walmart parking lot if I’m too tired. I wonder if the Elko Walmart has the same policy? Better get a container to pee in.

There: • This is gonna be bad optics—old asian guy unloading a bunch of stuff out of a U-Haul. Hope the rental doesn’t have California plates, if that’s the case, double trouble. • Do I work inside the Capitol wearing a mask and rubber gloves or WITHOUT wearing a mask and rubber gloves? Maybe I could ask Brad what looks more toxic. • Where do I sleep and eat? Airbnb, hotel, don’t want to stay with the Sih’s in Park City, I’d feel like a vector to the COVID world. Terrible, terrible if one got sick.
Getting Back: • Southwest might be OK, but if the line goes beyond A15 I’m gonna freak out. • Greyhound. No more than 4 or 5 on board might be OK. Hello again Winnemucca. Hope no one gets on there or anywhere else. Better check the Greyhound schedule. Ouch! 25 hours from Salt Lake to Oakland via Las Vegas and LA, 8 stops total— forget that. I should rent a car. I can use the leftover isopropyl alcohol on the rental car and I’ll probably have leftover Red Bull and Coke too.

Back: • Susan’s gonna quarentine me for a couple of weeks. • I’ll probably be camping in the backyard. Got that nice tent, thank goodness. • Better still, I could pitch the tent in the garage. Buy a Porta-potty. Fill the cooler with ice and the leftover Red Bull and Coke. This can be my man cave. I can call Susan for room service—just leave the tray on the recycling bin, please.

Disclaimer:

Some of this is serious, some of it just fun.

Some of its in-between, semi-serious, semi-fun.

You decide which is which, you make the call.

But please don’t be a hard head, not willing to parse at all.

 

Mr. Mizuna

Too long a day,

too much sun.

Mr. Mizuna raises the yellow flags,

soon to retire.

 

Jonathan Hirabayashi

April 25, 2020

Bitty Dot aka King Korona

 By Jonathan Hirabayashi, March 24, 2020

This King is a pipsqueek,
so small that the eye cannot see.
This bitty dot of folded protein,
that’s all there is of thee.
Some scientists say you are living,
some scientists say not.
This bitty dot of folded protein resides in gray
that provokes scientific thought.
To be or not to be,
that is a mute question.
This bitty dot of folded protein, front and center everywhere,
wreaking havoc and destruction.
Our President offers up lies and talks a lot of smack,
ignoring the mounting surge of the King’s attack.
This bitty dot of folded protein
blithely advances, unfazed and unseen.
On our heels, how do we resist,
some countries have shown the way.
This bitty dot of folded protein
can be fended off, held at bay.
China, South Korea, Taiwan maybe Japan,
socially adept, patience, perseverance,
maybe that’s the plan.
What is the end game or is there one?
This bitty dot of folded protein
needs to unfold, misfold, or no fold itself
maybe then its undone.
Until then we have to continue thinking.
Be socially adept, be healthy, be wise.
Be generous, be patient, its going to be a long ride.
Persevere, more patience, we’ll hug on the other side.