Budokan Dojo, located inside of Seattle Japanese Language School’s building 2 (1414 S. Weller St. Seattle), began its history in 1968. Ten young founders – George Beppu, Collin Blakley, Alan Fujii, Lewis Gaither, Frank Kobuki, Yukiya Ninomiya, Dave Sellen, Hiro Takahashi, Alvin Terada, and Tosh Yamamoto – began Budokan Dojo with about 30 students at the old “Main Bowl” site near the present day Seattle Lighting Company. In February 1969, Budokan hosted their first judo tournament at the present day Seattle Buddhist Temple Gym. Thirty-nine judo dojos were invited from all over the Pacific Northwest. Tournament sponsors included Uwajimaya, North American Post, West Coast Printing, Higo Variety Store, Mutual Fish, Bush Garden Restaurant, C.T. Takahashi, Dave Sellen Construction, Maneki Restaurant, and Imperial Lanes to name a few. The tournament started at 10 am and finished nearly 12 hours later after the Black Belt Finals. Three to four hundred competitors came to test their skills at this new event.
In 1987, Budokan Dojo moved to the current JCCCW location from the temporary location at the closed Lincoln High School (The dojo was closed in 1980 because of the Main Bowl building
renovation and reopened in 1982 at the temporary location.) The Japanese Language School’s building 2 was in a state of disrepair and originally condemned for occupancy by the Seattle Fire Marshal’s Office. When Budokan members renovated the space, doors of the Japanese Language School opened for the first time in 30 years. Until the late 1950’s, the building was used for resettlement of Japanese and Japanese-American families returning from concentration camps during WWII. An incredible treasure trove of Post-WWII memorabilia and items from the residents was discovered by the Budokan Dojo’s renovation project. Many of those articles and items were featured in a National Park Service sponsored project by the Japanese Cultural and Community Center of Washington (JCCCW) called “The Hunt Hotel Project.”
The 50th Anniversary celebration was held on October 13th at the Budokan Dojo’s training room inside the Japanese Language School
On October 13th, Budokan Dojo hosted its 50th anniversary party at the JCCCW dojo room. For the lunch reception, the room was filled with students, trainers, founders and their families and friends celebrating the dojo’s 50 years history. During the program which was emceed by president John Schaedler, founding members were honored with applause, the dojo’s new logo was unveiled by students and JCCCW president Lori Matsukawa made her greeting. Calvin Terada, who has succeeded the dojo’s operation from his father Alvin Terada, closed the party by acknowledging all the contributions by staffs and volunteers as well as supports by Seattle’s Japanese community.
For more information about Budokan Dojo, visit their website.
*This article is partially retrieved from Budokan Dojo’s article about its history
by N.A.P., retrieved from the Consulate-General of Japan press release
Mary Hammond Bernson, Director of the East Asia Resource Center, Henry M. Jackson School of International Studies, University of Washington, has been awarded the Order of the Rising Sun, Gold Rays with Rosette, in recognition of her contributions in promoting understanding of Japan in the United States and educational exchange between Japan and the United States. The award was announced by the Government of Japan in April 2018, and Consulate-General of Japan in Seattle hosted a private reception celebrating the conferment to Bernson on October 12th.
A high school teacher at the time, Bernson first visited Japan in 1981 as a researcher at Keizai Koho Center and quickly gained an interest in Japan. After returning to the U.S., Bernson started working at the Henry M. Jackson School of International Studies East Asia Resource Center at the University of Washington and devoted herself to creating a curriculum introducing Japan at American educational institutions.
Actively participating in teacher-exchange activities between Japan and the United States, Bernson accompanied American educators to Japan as part of the National Consortium for Teaching about Asia. As part of a sister-state project between Hyogo Prefecture and Washington State, Bernson made great contributions dispatching educators every other year from 1992 to 2012 as Washington State coordinator in collaboration with the Hyogo Business and Cultural Center Seattle office.
In addition, since the beginning of the JET Program in 1987, she has greatly assisted the Consulate-General of Japan in Seattle as a JET screener for the selection process of JET Program candidates. Bernson enthusiastically told students at the University of Washington and other educational institutions about the significance and appeal of the JET Program and actively improved recognition of the program in the United States. Through her many contributions in promoting understanding of Japan in the United States and educational exchange between Japan and the United States, Bernson has made an invaluable and lasting impact on U.S.-Japan relations.
Following the death of his mother, a distant cousin of mine discovered very old photos; some had been sent long ago from Japan to his parents. He scanned the photos and sent them out while some were within my father’s memory to explain. (In our case, some were taken in Peru as well as Japan.) Others were before his time (photo enclosed). Before his death, my father began sorting through his own photo albums and making annotations on those he could, but some were left in a box of unknowns.
The Seattle-Tacoma Fukuoka Kenjinkai (Fukuoka Prefecture descendants club) recently hosted our prefecture representatives from Japan, I asked if they had any offices involved with prefecture history or city history that might be interested in getting photos of old Japan left to survivors here who have no recollection of who or what is portrayed in the photos. Certainly many of the photos had accompanied long lost letters explaining who or what was portrayed. Many clearly are photos of people or events in Japan.
As you can imagine, they were reluctant to offer an opening for such an endeavor. Their staff is limited and can hardly keep up with collecting and providing information to all twenty kenjinkais in nine countries for local events like our Cherry Blossom Festival,
Japan Fair and Japan Week. They likely foresaw how this could open the door to a flood of photos from all around the globe. They did respectfully endorse the notion of families wanting to preserve their histories. That said, a picture that nobody recognizes is just a picture unless someone realizes why or who the photographer wanted to preserve it for relatives and friends. In addition, if it’s a photo of an event in Japan, it’s really not our history at all. Some of the photos of the unknowns seem to show the aftermath of local disasters in Japan.
I thought sharing this discussion might lead to a reader recommending a solution. It’s hard to believe that a prefecture as large as Fukuoka has no historical societies (Our community of Federal Way has one.) Certainly they have city offices that have historic photos lining their walls. Perhaps if we preserve a digital photo archive of unknowns from our ancestral homelands we could have amateur and professional historians visit us from Japan to shed light on some of the photos. It would be great
if they found it to be a treasure trove of historic photos from our collective boxes of unknowns and albums fated for the recycle bin.
Hiroshi Eto lives in Federal Way, WA and is a member of the Fukuoka-Kenjinkai.
Serves 4 | Prep time 30 minutes | Cook time 15 minutes
I have an emotional attachment to chawanmushi, a savory egg custard, which is often served at traditional-style Japanese restaurants as well as enjoyed at home as a special treat. I was a college student and worked at a fancy restaurant in Ginza (an upscale shopping district in Tokyo) as maîtred’ six days a week. Towards the end of the night, chawanmushi would be given to staff as part of the daily family meal. It was the highlight of my long, tiring working hours. A comforting and flavorful cup of chawanmushi became my favorite food.
Chawanmushi is available year-round, but fall is a great time of year to enjoy this hearty dish if using ingredients for filling such as a variety of mushrooms. For example, when matsutake mushroom is in season, you have the opportunity to try its incredible aroma and texture.
Another seasonal ingredient is chestnuts. In my hometown Akita and most Tohoku regions, Kuri no Kanroni (pre-cooked chestnuts in syrup) are often used for filling. Although Ginnan (ginkgo nuts) are more common in the other areas, we can use fresh chestnuts that are available in local Asian stores right now to appreciate their natural sweetness and satisfying texture. Chawanmushi is traditionally cooked in a steamer, but this recipe does not even require a steamer. You can make a seasonal chawanmushi anytime you crave it!
Ingredients
4 fresh chestnuts
3 inch sheet kombu
¼ cup bonito flakes
2 large eggs, beaten
2 to 2.5 oz. boneless, skinless chicken thigh or breast, sliced into
8 pieces
4 shelled shrimp, deveined
4 fresh shiitake mushrooms, stems removed
mitsuba leaves for garnish
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sake
1 tsp mirin
1 tsp soy sauce
Instructions
Cook chestnuts
Boil 2 cups water in a medium sauce pan. Add chestnuts and cook for about 15 minutes. Strain and cool the chestnut to room temperature. Then peel the chestnuts using a pairing knife. Set aside.
Make dashi
Put kombu and 2 cups of water in a medium sauce pan and heat over medium-high heat. Once kombu is hydrated and water starts to boil, add bonito flakes and reduce heat to medium. Cook for a minute and remove from heat. Cool to room temperature and strain. Discard the kombu and bonito flakes.
Cook chawanmushi
Add salt, sake, mirin and soy sauce to 2 cups of dashi and mix well. Add the beaten egg in strain using a strainer or cheese cloth for a smooth, silky texture of the custard.
Have four individual-sized 3-4 inch tall heat-resistant cups ready. In each cup, place 2 chicken pieces, 1 shiitake, 1 shrimp, and 1 chestnut at the bottom. Carefully ladle ¼ of the egg batter over the fillings.
Pour about a quarter inch deep water in a sauce pan. Lay the 4 cups on the bottom carefully so that water does not get in the cups. Cover and turn on high heat. Once the water starts boiling, turn heat to low immediately and cook for 8 minutes. Remove lid and check for doneness by pressing the surface with a skewer. If the liquid is clear it’s done. If not, cover and cook another couple of minutes.
Take out the cups using a cloth and garnish with mitsuba leaves. Serve hot.
Kanako, a native of Akita, Japan, is a chef, author and instructor focused on authentic Japanese homecooking. Chef Kanako also offers in-home private cooking classes for groups up to 12. You can reach her at info@kozmokitchen.com.
Looking for delicious Japanese party platters for your home parties? Kanako caters to small to medium sized private parties (up to 50 people) with a variety of Japanese small and large plates of appetizers, rice dishes and more. Rates vary depending on the type of service and volume of food ($300 minimum for Seattle area).
During WWII, Japanese families were taken from our community in Seattle, Washington and forced into concentration camps. Public fear and hostility caused some in the remaining community, to express their anger and disdain. With Japanese gone, others became targets. As a young child, I remember the teen-aged boys.
Mid-morning sun shone through the old glass of the front window of our hand laundry. I looked at the faded, chipped, red letters outlined in yellow. The letters were painted backwards on the inside of the window. From the outside, the letters read; “Henry’s Hand Laundry”. I still remember the address– 907 James Street.
This laundry belonged to someone else in the Chinese community, who was moving away. Our family of eight was lucky to move here from our old laundry in the University District. That landlady evicted us, by tripling the rent. Her quote in the newspaper was “We’re at war and I can’t tell them apart!”
A brief shadow brushed the top of the padded ironing table set against the wall, as A-Bah (Pop) walked by. None of my brothers and sisters was home and the place was quiet as A-Mah (Mom) carried me across the room. She stopped near the counter where wood shelves held stacked packages of clean laundry, ready for customers. I liked the bright blue color of the paper wrapping these neat bundles tied with white string. I felt happy in A-Mah’s arms – this was my favorite place to be.
When A-Mah carried me, I got to look at her pretty earrings. Small precious opal gems nestled in a delicate swirl, made of heavy Chinese gold. I loved to stare at their iridescent colors that changed as I made tiny movements of my head. At just the right angle, a pinpoint of color would flash into a starburst.
Pink was the most common color, but I would keep making minute shifts, trying to catch my favorite color – a turquoise burst of light! The gold setting of her earrings curved up past the round opals into a mean-looking hook going through a hole near the bottom of her ear. It didn’t seem to hurt her though.
Without warning, I heard a crash! The big bad boys were back! A-Mah’s body jerked at the sound of a breaking bottle. Another, and then another– a quick volley of muted thuds against the window and glass door.
What were they throwing: fruit, rocks, eggs?
Then I heard mean laughter, “Dirty Japs!” and the vigorous slaps of leather shoes hitting pavement.
“E-Gah-Mah-Hoon!” A-Bah swore and charged towards the front door. Through the glass door, he saw the boys turn left at the corner. He knew there was an open field of grass next to an abandoned house in back of our laundry.
“E-Gah-Mah-Hai!” “E-Gah-Mah-Hoon!” A-Bah turned and dove down the narrow hall to the back room. I felt the squeeze of my mother’s arms as she quickly followed him.
Both doors to the cupboard were flung open as A-Bah reached for the top shelf. I heard rustling of the brown paper bag and a heavy thud on the wood counter
A gun!
In one swift movement, A-Bah was at the back door and jerked it open! This was a door with a sheet of metal covering the entire door, 3 click locks, a door handle lock and an iron bar across the door. Never had I seen that heavy back door opened so fast!
A-Mah’s mouth silently opened, as she stepped back in fear and put me down. I was drawn to where A-Bah was tensely poised. Quietly, I stood in back of his right knee, where my eyes skimmed the wrinkle patterns in the heavy tan fabric of his pants. He was silent now – not swearing.
A flurry of blurred movement and a couple of whoops, “Woohoo Chinky man!” A-Bah raised his right arm.
BLAM!
My nose twitched from the sharp smell as I watched thin swirls of smoke curling upwards. I scanned the grass field.
Oh Darn – A-Bah missed!
I must have said something out loud. The next thing I knew, I was no longer standing behind the wrinkled tan pants.
In a short time, I was happily propped back in A-Mah’s arms again. She stood in the front room. The sun produced oddshaped shadows from the smashed stuff thrown at our window.
I watched a blob of something — slowly slide down the window. It formed a gooey bulb perched on the edge of the windowsill and then plopped over the side, into a mess on the sidewalk.
A-Bah stared resolutely out the window. He would not be sweeping up the broken glass and rubble, until the police arrived. They had been called and we waited. I already knew the police station was just four blocks away, directly down James Street hill from our laundry.
After A-Mah took a deep breath and sighed, I asked: “A-Mah, why does it take the police so long to get here?”
In an instant, her normally pleasant, placid expression flickered off her face. It was replaced by an expression I had not seen before and could not explain: worry, fear, helplessness?
Although I did not understand how to interpret her expression, I understood that my question upset her. I immediately knew not to ever ask her that question again.
As for the big bad boys – they never came back.
Bettie Luke is a member of the well -known pioneer Seattle
Chinatown (ID) Luke Family Association. She is a certified cultural and diversity instructor. Ms. Luke is a longtime member of the Omoide writing group.
All of a sudden, the giggling stopped, and our once-mischievous little circle of elementary schoolers quickly grew tense. We had been sharing our middle names—one coming-of-age ceremony out of many treated with utmost secrecy and importance in the school yard—and in the small Eastern Washington town where I grew up, people visibly reacted to names that were… different. Names that were not like the others.
My name.
Akiko.
When I first started experiencing uncomfortable moments around my identity like this one, there was nothing more I wanted than to be normal. To not have a name that made people stop talking out of confusion when they heard it, or a face that people would
twist and squint to get a closer look at to better inform their guesses on my ethnicity.
Growing up mixed race in a small town that was predominantly white meant that people noticed you… not once, not twice, but every time you went out of the house. From the glances to the double-takes, sly sneak peeks to full-on stares, I quickly got used to how people noticed my differences, and came up with my own arsenal of comebacks and conversation-dodgers to get out of yet another casual interrogation about my identity. I grew up feeling like a hesitatingly accepted, well-watched outsider in my hometown, and for mixed race kids who don’t grow up near a cultural or ethnic hub, that is often the reality.
However, it was only a matter of time before I learned that I wasn’t flying solo in the experience of growing up mixed race. With my moves to college and, after graduation, Seattle, I met other people like me, other people who were different, who were not one or the other, but both, people who comfortably existed in
their mixed wholeness, and who could be themselves with me.
After so long, I have finally learned what it is like to notice—and be noticed for—each other’s differences with respect and care.
It just looks like two people asking who the other person is, not what.
OCTOBER 23, 2018 is the 150th anniversary of the start of Japan’s Meiji period, which dates from October 1868 to July 30, 1912. It is the imperial reign when Japan opened its doors to the West. It included the arrival of the first Japanese Americans, the Issei, on these shores.
Thus, it would be appropriate for this paper to include occasional retrospective articles on the Meiji era across the coming year. To set the stage for such pieces, let us begin today by examining two important early Meiji artworks that illustrate Japan’s understanding of written English at the time. English, then and now, has been one of the keys to effective international trade and diplomacy.
The pieces are Tsunajima Kamekichi’s Ryuukou Eigo Zukushi, which have been translated as “Fashionable Melange of English Words.” They consist of two woodblock prints, each comprised of a set of 42 cards depicting English words. Their corner notes date them to Meiji 20, April, or 1887.
In examining the individual cards, we can see that there were marvelous animals in the English-speaking world. Of these, my favorite is the Gaot.
You’ve never heard of a Gaot, you say.
To show that I didn’t make it up, I refer the reader to its picture, above.
It is near that of the Hoise.
Such strange animals were accompanied by unusual plants, people, and housewares. There is the Evenjng Glory, perhaps admired by a Yeng Sister. She pursued activities like Looking Moon, and Refreshiug, sometimes with a massage from a Shampooer. In the evenings, she drank tea steeped in a Kottle from a Tea Cnp. For soup, she used a Wooden Cnp.
Somehow, all these remarkable things and people have nearly vanished across the three generations that separate me from my grandpa’s lifetime.
Flippant Sansei musings aside, the power of Tsunajima’s work lies not in what he got wrong, emphasized here, but in what he got right. I picked only the most amusing cards from the set, most of the balance of which are spot on.
More important is the way Tsunajima’s drawings comprise a snapshot of where Japan was on its internationalization journey in Meiji 20. It is just like how these pages capture where we are, as a Nikkei community, in Heisei 30.
Tsunajima’s Eigo woodblocks, among the best known of his life’s work, have withstood the test of time. Today, prints of them reside in the US Library of Congress, alongside books from the original library of Thomas Jefferson. Outside of that esteemed national library, images of the Fashionable Melange are available for purchase online internationally, printed on t-shirts, coffee mugs, handbags, and the like.
The woodblock images have survived to the present probably because they do what mere words cannot. They capture the spirit of the Meiji era. It was a bold time of change when a small island country reached out to the world and tried—with charm and whimsy—to understand and communicate with it. In America, only six months before, a great statue had been dedicated of a Ladv holding a Lump.
Vestiges of these sentiments flow through these pages today, as we strive—with Pen and ink—to continue the bilingual journey begun so long ago.
On October 26th, over 800 guests attended the 45th Anniversary Benefit Gala and Auction of the Asian Counseling and Referral Service (ACRS) at the Hyatt Regency Bellevue. The ballroom was packed with elected officials, local groups, and longtime friends of the organization which started in 1973 as a grassroots, all-volunteer service meeting Asian immigrant clients in need. ACRS has since grown from a volunteer group seeing 70 clients a year to over 270 staff members who combined speak over 40 languages to serve 35,000 clients a year. The organization’s multilingual programs cover a wide range, from immediate need services such as food banks and medical care to social services such as career help, youth development, and immigration assistance.
Photo by Naomi Ishikawa / ACRS
ACRS was founded to address the needs of an Asian immigrant community suffering due to displacement, language barriers and other systematic inequalities, and the night’s programming highlighted how crucial these services remain today. Asian and Pacific Islander immigrants are the fastest growing population in Washington State and the nation, which ACRS approaches through both culturally sensitive and multilingual services as well as civic engagement and advocacy on behalf of all immigrants.
Many speakers including U.S. Senator Maria Cantwell and U.S. Representative Pramila Jayapal paid tribute to the role of retiring Executive Director Diane Narasaki as not just an organizational leader but also a respected community leader and advocate. Much of the night was devoted to paying tribute to Ms. Narasaki’s 23 years of service and leadership. Rep. Jayapal presented Ms. Narasaki with an official Congressional Record thanking her for her service, referring to her as a “warrior for human rights.”
Photo by Naomi Ishikawa / ACRS
Adding to the celebratory nature of the event, fundraising efforts during the event were wildly successful. Popular silent and live auctions raised thousands, and a huge contribution of 330,000 dollars donated during the Raise the Paddle event far surpassed the evening’s goals. It was on this high note that awards were presented to ACRS’ community partners, and Ms. Narasaki herself thanked and recognized the efforts of the community in the past 45 years. The night ended with a symbolic passing of the torch to incoming Executive Director Michael Byun, who had previously headed a similar organization in Ohio. Mr. Byun focused on the organization’s political engagement in his speech. ACRS spent its early days organizing resistance to welfare reforms that hurt the Asian community, and Mr. Byun’s speech signaled that ACRS is ready to carry on the legacy of defending the civil rights of vulnerable communities.
At the baseball game at Safeco Field against the Oakland A’s on September 26, Hisashi Iwakuma, the righhanded pitcher who had such a brilliant career with the Seattle Mariners, threw out the first pitch. It was a nice gesture by the Mariners front office to send the pitcher out in style. It was also an unusual outing for the surprised pitcher, who thought to himself, “But I’m not retiring.” The gesture showed just how beloved he is by his teammates and the fans. That’s the sort of guy Hisashi Iwakuma is.
Interview by Noriko Huntsinger, Translated by Bruce Rutledge
“I owe my baseball life to the fans and my family.”
Determined to remain active
Our interview was arranged hastily on September 10, the day before Hisashi Iwakuma was set to announce his resignation from the team. We met at his home in a quiet residential section of Bellevue. The soft-spoken athlete listened quietly to my questions and answered little by little. He appeared to be an honest and serious person. How much was his mind occupied by the following day’s announcement? I didn’t detect any sense of sadness or despair. On the contrary, he gave off a relaxed, refreshing air. His minor league games were all finished for the season. His chances of returning to the Major Leagues were slim. When I asked him about his future course, he broke out in a laugh. “I don’t even know,” he said. “If I get an offer, I’ll go anywhere. I’m up for the challenge.”
He spoke with the strong intentions of an active baseball player. If he retired, there would probably be a place for him as an executive or staff member in the Mariners organization , but that wasn’t the path he wanted. He is obsessed with remaining a player. His wife, Madoka, offered this: “He was injured, had surgery, and then, out of nowhere, he was ready for battle again. We were so happy! After his first game back, the family was thrilled.”
Iwakuma injured his right shoulder and was put on the disabled list for most of the 2017 season. In September of that same year, he had surgery on his shoulder and signed with the Mariners to start the 2018 season. He was aiming to get back in the Majors. On August 31, he pitched two scoreless innings for the Single-A Everett Aquasox against the Vancouver Canadians, a Toronto Blue Jays minor league franchise. On his next trip to the mound on August 26, he had a feel for his pitches again.
“I owe my baseball life to the fans and my family. I want to continue to return the favor through baseball,” he said.
Half a lifetime with baseball
Iwakuma started baseball when he was a first grader. He watched professional baseball on TV and decided it was for him. “I thought the uniforms and the way they played was so cool. I was saying it was my dream to become a professional baseball player since kindergarten.” His father’s understanding of the game as a sandlotter helped too. Iwakuma soon joined the local little league team. His older brother started playing with him a little later, and soon he was playing every day, either in little league or with friends at the park. “Today, it may be soccer, but back then, everybody played baseball,” he recalled.
He steeped himself in baseball, continued to play and never lost his love of the game. “I tried every position, and they were all fun. But the pitcher was the coolest,” he said. In third grade, he started playing in games with the older students. He remembers thinking at the time that “I can become a professional player.” But he says with humility that he was lucky to become a pro. “It wasn’t like I was far ahead of the other players,” he says. “There were lots of great young players around.”
In his junior year at Horikoshi High School, he was the winning pitcher in the spring tournament and he caught the attention of a scout who was there to watch the other team. This was his link to the pros. “If you don’t get into Koshien, the media completely ignores you,” he says, referring to the annual Koshien high school baseball tournament. “It takes luck to get to the pros.” He was drafted fifth by the Osaka Kintetsu Buffaloes and was told the next three years would provide his training. “First, it was physical strengthening. I didn’t appear in a game my first year.” So the baseball-loving Iwakuma steadily built his strength. As a result, his technique improved. He moved from the second team to the pros and gained the confidence it would take to win. In his second year, he joined the first team. How did he motivate himself during that time when his future was unknown and he was doing strength training? “My dream of becoming a pro had come true. All that was left was to improve my strength and technique and advance to the first
team. I believed that if I did this, there would be a place for me among the veteran players,” he said. It
Events that changed his outlook on life
Mergers and restructuring in Japanese baseball in 2004 had their effects on Iwakuma. The Osaka Kintetsu Buffaloes became the Orix Buffaloes. On top of that, he was traded to the Tohoku Rakuten Golden Eagles. “Starting from scratch is tough. Early spring in Sendai is cold,” he said with a laugh. “But once you live there awhile, you realize how nice it is. The fans were great. We lost a lot of games at first, but the fans never wavered in their support.” After playing with the restructured Orix Buffaloes, he brought a fresh attitude to
the 2005 season with the Golden Eagles. “I experienced a lot of growth as a baseball player and as a person,” Iwakuma recalled.
During the three years he played for Rakuten, he was plagued with injuries. “Up to that point, I just was playing the game I loved. But when I couldn’t pitch, I had to face some dark thoughts for the first time. But the fans were always there for me. From the bottom of my heart, I want to show my gratitude to them for being able to play baseball, which has revived me and helped me grow.” This is also the time when the seeds were planted for another move: “I wanted to see if I could make it in the Major Leagues.”
When Japan won the 2009 World Baseball Classic, Iwakuma went up against the best baseball players in the world. His ambition had become a reality. “I wanted to experience first hand how their baseball was different from Japanese baseball,” he recalled. “Then we experienced the earthquake in Sendai, which made the opportunity to go to the US more of a reality. If I succeeded in the Majors, I thought I could bring support and energy to the people of Tohoku.”
In 2012, he signed a one-year contract with the Mariners, and the Iwakuma family moved to Seattle. “When it was decided that I was joining Ichiro on the Mariners, I was very happy,” he said. What was his impression of Seattle before he arrived? “It was the town where Ichiro lived,” he replied. When he arrived, he liked the climate and felt right at home because the city had a similar vibe to Sendai. And what was it like to play here? “Japanese baseball and American baseball are completely different,” he said. “First, the power is different. And the speed. Even the players’ stature and strength are different. Also, individual results are everything in the Majors. If you don’t produce, you’ll quickly be fired. Japan isn’t quite like that.”
One of his teammates, Felix Hernandez, became a good friend. The King and Kuma led a dominating starting rotation that is still fresh in our minds.
“He’s a Japanophile. He told me he likes Japan and sushi,” said Iwakuma of The King. There are more Japanese players in the Major Leagues these days, so during spring training in Arizona, he’d get together with Yu Darvish, Kenta Maeda and others for dinner. There were some tough times during his seven years in the Majors because of injuries, but all in all, he enjoyed getting to know other players from around the world.
Iwakuma shares photos of family travels and private moments on his Instagram account and his blog. “It’s for that part of me that can’t be expressed through baseball. The comments from fans are encouraging,” he said. In Japan, he doesn’t share photos of his family, but his agent in the US encouraged him, advising him that fans here would love to see details of his family life
His wife, Madoka, said that “Mariners players would often send text messages to him. When he lost a game in 2016 that could have helped them get to the playoffs, he received texts in Japanese that said ‘Kuma, genkidashite’ (Kuma, don’t feel bad) and ‘Kuma, nakanai de’ (Kuma, don’t cry). It was inspiring. In 2015, when he was re-signed by the Seattle Mariners, and not the Los Angeles Dodgers, we were very happy.” She added that
whenever Iwakuma came back to Safeco Field from a rehab stint in the minors, his teammates would all welcome him back, shouting “Okaeri, Kuma!”
“All I have is good memories of Seattle,” Iwakuma said. His teammates and fans sent him farewells and thank yous via social media and in other ways, cementing the good feelings he has for the city.
Continuing to contribute to Japanese society
Child survivors of the earthquake join his baseball classroom. The IWA Academy staff and Iwakuma himself lead the instruction
During the off-season, he returns home or spends time in Sendai, where Madoka’s family lives. Since his time with Rakuten, he has visited the area often, going to the disaster area around the coast of Iwate Prefecture to offer support. “All in all, how many hours have I spent there? I always spend a long time there. I visit every year. I see the roads getting repaired, the city getting cleaned up. Step by step, they are making progress. Though their wounds aren’t healed, I try to bring a little cheer when I visit.” People in
temporary housing really light up when he visits, he says. Offering support gives him power, he says, and positively affects his playing. He offers support to the earthquake orphans and to the affected areas of Kumamoto. He gets the kids to smile when he holds baseball classes in those places, he says.
Iwakuma opened a sports training facility called IWA Academy in March 2016 to offer another way to support Japan. He is the co-owner and supervisor of the staff of about 15. “I thought it might be a good way to contribute to society by offering a comfortable place for kids, senior citizens engaged in rehabilitation, and men and women of all ages to get
professional training and treatment. It’s not just baseball; we teach a lot of different sports techniques. We have a really excellent staff and it feels like everyone is part of one big family,” Iwakuma said. The word is that children who get trained here see results when they return to their local teams. The school is full, but they still get lots of requests to learn the school’s methods.
A lecture and discussion around his antibullying project. The project has struck a chord. Schools, cities and education boards all over Japan request that he come and speak every year
In the same year, Iwakuma started an anti-bullying program called Be a Hero. In the off-season, he toured Japan giving lectures on how bullying can be eliminated through science and about how to stop bullying outside of the school such as child abuse in the home and abuse of authority in sports. “A child’s potential can change based on a teacher or a way of teaching. When engaging in sports, it’s necessary to offer appropriate education for a child’s personal development,” he said. “The old way of dragging spiritualism into extracurricular activities should change too.”
The local newspaper and media tout Iwakuma’s achievements. When we talk about that, the reticent Iwakuma breaks into a big smile. Where will we see him next? When he threw out the first pitch on September 26, Special Assistant to the Chairman Ichiro surprised him by being the catcher. The big screen played highlights from his 2015 no-hitter. Fans who rushed to the stadium to see Iwakuma throw his last pitch broke out in applause. “I feel very grateful,” the pitcher said. And that’s how we Mariners fans feel too.
Special Assistant to the Chairman Ichiro readies for Iwakuma’s last pitch as his teammates, family, and fans look on
“I want to show my gratitude to them for being able to play baseball, which has revived me and helped me grow.”
Hisashi Iwakuma
Born April 12, 1981, Iwakuma grew up in Tokyo. After graduating from Horikoshi High School, he played for the Osaka Kintetsu Buffaloes, the Orix Buffaloes, the Tohoku Rakuten Golden Eagles, and then the Seattle Mariners. In Japan, he’s won many honors and was the driving force behind Japan’s 2009 World Baseball Classic championship. He joined the Seattle Mariners in 2012. In August 2015, he became the second Japanese pitcher to throw a no-hitter in the Major Leagues. In 2016, he became supervisor of the IWA Academy in Tokyo, which helps everyone from children to adults train and learn about being athletes.
From 1934 to the mid-1980s, Seward Park was home to a handsome 24-foot torii gate designed by architect Kichio Allen Arai. But eventually, that torii had to be taken down
due to decay. On October 14, a groundbreaking ceremony was held for a new 20-foot torii gate to be made with basalt columns and a timber crossbeam. Jerry Arai, son of the original architect, was on hand along with committee members and donors who followed Scott Murase, architect of the new gate, on a tour of the site.
The pillars, which are each single pieces of basalt, will be tapered from top to bottom via a special lathing machine, creating color changes. The horizontal support will be made from an oldgrowth cedar from northern Vancouver Island. They had to fell several cedar
trees to find a suitable section, then barged it down to Vashon, where it was shaped.
The original torii had special meaning to the Japanese American community, and committee members say they hope to unveil the new torii gate at a celebration timed to next year’s cherry blossom season.
What was considered by many Issei parents as a “family disgrace” is now common place.
Interracial marriages, commonly known as “out” marriages, involving third (sansei) and fourth (yonsei) generation people of Japanese ancestry no longer carry the social stigma of the past. The “shin-issei ” children and spouses that came to America after World War 2 also faced discrimination.
Today,all people of Japanese ancestry, living in America, are called “Nikkei.” The collective noun for today’s mixed marriage, younger generation is “hapa.”
Hapas face special challenges and they will be the subject of the Saturday, November 17, meeting of the Omoide (Memories) group. A selected panel of hapas will discuss the complexities as children of mixed identities, social and cultural conflicts, education and
employment, and raising their own families.
“Our Omoide group’s primary focus is on our historic immigrant parents and older nisei generation. But it’s time to look ahead and beyond since our Nikkei history is being made today by our hapa generation,” said Dee Goto, Omoide program chairperson.
The hapa panel discussion will be held Saturday, November 17, 1 pm- 2:15 pm, at the Japanese Cultural and Community Center of Washington (JCCCW- “The J”), 1414 South Weller, Seattle. The writing group workshop will follow at 2:45 pm . The public is invited. The program is free.
We were just out of high school when we got married. My wife has Type 1 diabetes. My job didn’t pay well. I loved her so much. I joined the Army. They’d see to it that she got her meds and she got her care. The guys would make fun of me and laugh, ‘he thinks he’s some kind of Boy Scout’ they would say because my belt buckle and insignias were always brasso’d (polished), my uniform neatly pressed and my shoes always spit shined like glass. I was sent to the jungles of Vietnam. I lost a leg and an arm. When I came home, I didn’t think my wife would want me anymore. She did. She kissed me and hugged me and said, “More than ever.” I cried. I still keep my one shoe spit shined like glass and my beautiful captain keeps me and my clothes looking I.G.(Inspector General)
sharp.
TURN AROUND LOOK AT ME
I got drafted. I hated being in the service. They put me in the Signal Corps. I send and receive messages all day. That’s my job, to keep the messages moving. There was shelling and machine gun fire in the distance and coming real close…too close. The last thing I remember I was tossing Cheri our messenger pigeon up into the sky and was watching her fly toward headquarters. I don’t see very well anymore. I got a cane to help me see.
TURN AROUND LOOK AT ME
I was still going to college. I enlisted because of 9/11. Sometimes you do things on impulse because of pride and honor and because I loved my flag and I loved my country. When I signed up, I wasn’t thinking all that. When 9/11 happened I was angry and I was
scared like everyone else but you know, enlisting was something that I had to do. I’m a quadriplegic and I can’t do anything for myself anymore. After I found out, I was scared out of my mind. I cursed everyone, “Damn you! Damn everyone!” I cried and cried until I
couldn’t cry no more. I’m a soldier. In my heart I’ll always be a soldier even though they tell me I’m not anymore. I am. You know what, … I still feel I did the right thing.
TURN AROUND LOOK AT ME
I was just out of high school. I joined the WACs (Women’s Army Corps) to be a nurse. I went to basic training, then to Fort Sam Houston for schooling and then I went to my first assignment. I asked myself over and over, “Why did I join?” I want to be with my little brothers and sisters. I borrowed money for bus fare from the sergeants in the hospital where I worked. They asked me why. I said I want to go home. I went home. The MPs (military police) came and got me. When I got back to the barracks (housing for soldiers), the captain put me on restriction. The next time I got restriction and loss of pay. The next time after that, I lost my stripe. I didn’t know it, but I made the girls in the barracks sad. They could hear me crying in the darkness of the basement. I just want to go home.
TURN AROUND LOOK AT ME
Fumi-tomo Ohta is a sansei living in southern california. She joined the women’s army corps just after high school graduation with her last assignment being at SHAPE/NATO (Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe/North Atlantic Treaty Organization). Each story in this creative writing is semi-fiction – composites of individuals she has met.
In 1988, the company I was working for sent us on a two day seminar to learn about a new innovative way of doing business. The course was based on the ideas of Dr. W. Edward Deming who went to Japan after World War II to teach industry leaders how improving quality could lead to lower costs and increased sales. Japan’s auto industry
was the perfect example and our instructor implied by emulating what the Japanese auto manufacturers were doing, we would not fall into the same trap that the US automakers did.
As a Japanese American, I was rather insulted that the managers of our company felt that by incorporating business practices used by Japanese auto manufacturers, we could save our company from losing our commanding lead over our nearest competitors. After all, this was a company where many of my co-workers would expend more effort finding ways to avoid doing their job than simply doing it. No mention was ever made that possibly
the strong Japanese work ethic, their discipline, their respect and willingness to cooperate with others might have contributed to their success in the auto industry.
Thanks to a tour of Japan sponsored by the North American Post, I was able to witness first hand the true character of the Japanese people. Of course, the scenery of a train ride through the mountains to the rural farming town of Takayama was gorgeous, the Buddhist
temples were simply amazing, and the visit to the Hiroshima Peace Memorial was very emotional, but it was the character of the Japanese people that left a lasting impression. It also explained where so many of the values my parents tried to instill in me originated
from. Last of all, it made me proud of my heritage which for many Japanese Americans, especially of my parent’s generation, had been challenged in this country.
My learning experience started before we even left the ground at SeaTac Airport. We flew on ANA Airlines and I noticed two flight attendants checking the emergency exits on opposite sides of our twin aisle plane to verify they were properly secured. Once they completed their inspection, they crossed over to the opposite exit door to ensure the previous flight attendant didn’t miss anything. I had never seen that process done before
and it provided a level of comfort that the plane ride would be safe. Lesson number one: Japanese people are very customer oriented.
Bruce entering the Inari Shrines in Kyoto
When our tour group took its first train ride and arrived at the Tokyo Shinagawa station, it coincided with many of the businessmen exiting the trains and subways on their way to
work. I had never seen such a mass of people, all dressed in black suits and white shirts and moving at such a rapid pace. Our group of 27 tourists had to traverse through a maze of businessmen but there was no pushing, shouting, or tempers flaring. Lesson number two: Japanese people are very courteous.
I was amazed at how clean and quiet the streets in Japan are. There is no litter, no graffiti on the side of the freeways, buildings or railroad cars. The drivers of cars do not honk their horns, nor do trains blow their whistle at street crossings. Most of the trains are electric and relatively quiet and clean in comparison to diesel locomotives which allows trains to run relatively peacefully through residential areas. Pedestrians do not cross streets unless the traffic lights are green. Lesson number three: Japanese people are mindful of other people and their property.
In Japan, most everyone drives a car built by a Japanese manufacturer. You do see a few luxury German, English, and Swedish cars but I did not see one Korean built car which probably would sell for less money than a comparably equipped Japanese car. Also, in every hotel room we stayed in, the television was built by a Japanese manufacturer instead of a Korean brand like you would see in this country. Lesson number four: Japanese people are very loyal and support their own economy.
Every residential home and public facility we saw had the most beautifully maintained garden. Every tree and shrub was neatly manicured into geometric shapes. When we visited one small community, two city employees were trimming a 25 foot pine tree with
a small pruning shear, not an electric or gas powered hedge trimmer. Lesson number five: Japanese people are very artistic and disciplined.
I was inspired by my visit to Japan and I think we could all learn volumes by observing its people. Part of the culture might have been forced upon them by learning to survive in such a small area. After all, Japan has 127 million people living in a country smaller than the state of California. Not being respectful of others and not working in harmony are not an option. Many thanks to Elaine Ikoma Ko, Shigeki Kajita, and the North American Post for allowing me this learning experience.
About Japan Tour presented by N.A.P.
Since 2010, the North American Post and Hokubei Hochi Foundation have offered an
annual cultural tour to Japan for our readers and our local Nikkei community members. Our tour includes travel to Tokyo, Takayama, Shirakawa-go, Okayama, Kyoto, Nara, and Hiroshima and gives members unique local experiences and low tour rates for travelers. Our 2019 Fall Season tour rate and schedule are coming soon!
Contact: JapanTour@napost.com
The mega-hit Xbox series Halo is known for its high-quality music, which helps create the games’ fictional worlds. Kazuma Jinnouchi, headhunted by Microsoft in 2011, is the composer for the soundtracks on Halo 4 and Halo 5: Guardians. This summer, he finally decided to go independent. Since childhood, Jinnouchi has focused on following his passions. What sort of life choices did he make to end up as a music composer?
By Naoko Watanabe, translated by Bruce Rutledge
There comes a moment when I think
‘that’s it’ with the music I am composing.
That’s when I know I’ve done a good job.”
It all starts with music and a computer
Jinnouchi left Microsoft in July. As soon as he went freelance, he got involved with a Japanese TV series and a film based in Los Angeles. He’s busy every day.
“Having been in a company mainly doing video game soundtracks up until now, I thought that going independent would allow me to try all sorts of new projects,” he says. He gives off the aura of a composer with artisan spirit, but at the same time is friendly and easy to talk to. “First, I want to make sure I have a steady income and have a solid foundation for my life,” he says with a smile. He has several video-game projects lined up, so he’s off
to a steady start with his freelance career.
For Jinnouchi, everything began with music and a computer. His first encounter with musical instruments was telling. He remembers being drawn to sounds in kindergarten. He was taken by the sound of a piano his teacher played. He told his parents that he wanted to learn how to play, but they decided a piano was just too big to fit in their house. In third grade, he was taken by the sound of a flute. That time, his parents were ok with buying a flute. He began to learn how to play flute. When he advanced to Berklee, he specialized in guitar, but the guitar was never his first choice.
“When I was in middle school, I wanted Famicon,” he remembers. “When I asked my parents for one, they gave me a computer instead and told me to make my own games. I went to the library to borrow a book on programming and created a game-like thing. But my game paled in comparison to the Famicon games. When I compared the two, I realized my game didn’t have any sound. That’s when I decided to compose music for the game I made.”
He decided a guitar would be handy for playing chords. The flute provided the melody and the guitar the chords. Then he created rhythm for the first time on a computer. He was 15. From that point on, he kept playing the guitar and listening to all sorts of music. The young Jinnouchi’s interests jumped from video games to music.
Jinnouchi’s current workplace is his home studio. These days, having a computer to produce music is a must for a composer. “Even when an orchestra will record the music, a sample sound source from a computer is delivered ahead of time,” Jinnouchi says. “Star Wars composer John Williams composes his music on a piano and writes down the composition with pen and paper, but he can do that because he’s the master!”
Finding work creating video-game music
Jinnouchi graduated from the Berklee College of Music, renowned for its jazz and contemporary music. He was in the same class as jazz pianist Hiromi Uehara and remains friends with her. “In college, I composed in funk/fusion style. There were compositions where I imagined a landscape and added things like the feeling of wind. The fusion band The Yellow jackets was formed in the 1980s, and I found the structure of their songs fascinating,” Jinnouchi recalls. “I thought, I’d love to be able to write music like that.”
No matter how prestigious the school one graduates from, it’s still very difficult to make a living in music. For a while after graduating, he worked at whatever jobs he could find. “I wanted to make music for commercials, so I went to Tokyo. First, I worked part time at a long-established production company in Aoyama, Tokyo. While I took care of office odds and ends, at times I would get to make sample sound sources for the composers. The creative aspects of the work were interesting, but when my trial period was up, they asked me what I wanted to do next. ‘I want to compose,’ I replied. The answer: ‘Well, then today is your last day. Thanks for your time.’ That was Christmas night,” he says with a bitter smile.
During the Halo 5: Guardians recording session. The soundtrack was recorded by a live orchestra.
He began calling everyone he could think of in search of work. He worked as a localizer and on user support for Sibelius, the music notation software used by many composers. He worked in that job for three years until one day, a phone call turned his world around.
A classmate from his Berklee College of Music days, Nobuko Toda, was working as a composer and music producer for Konami Digital Entertainment. She wanted him to join a new team in the company to produce music for a video game. “At first, I declined,” Jinnouchi recalls. “Everything I had learned and all my work experience to that point had nothing to do with music composition for video games. I didn’t have the confidence that I could keep up. But Toda told me, ‘We can teach you our process of making music and the production process; you’ll be fine. What’s important is whether you can compose good music or not. Your music, with its visual detail, is suited to video games. I’m sure you’ll succeed.’ I had never heard my own music be so highly rated by anyone. I figured I should give it a try. Plus, I figured, if my demo was no good, they’d let me go.” Jinnouchi took full advantage of the opportunity. There was some discussion about whether they should hire him, but in the end, the company extended a job offer, thus starting his career as a video-game composer.
The true reason for becoming a composer
Basically, he found that what he imagined in a composition and what was needed in a video-game music composition were very different. “Up until then, I was aiming for compositions that were comfortable to listen to,” Jinnouchi says. “But video-game compositions are caught up in psychological effects. What first comes to mind is the feeling of speed. Music is about tempo. In a game, in whatever situation, there’s a sense of speed. Depending on the music you use, you can control the player and make him hurry up.”
What is it about Jinnouchi’s music that goes above and beyond the ordinary? “I’ve been praised by directors for my interpretation. When you add music to video or an experience, first you have to figure out how to interpret the scene,” he says. “For me, that’s an ongoing challenge, but there comes a moment when I think ‘that’s it’ with the music I am composing. That’s when I know I’ve done a good job.”
Jinnouchi shared an interesting story about interpreting video. In a college course, the students would first watch video with no sound. A young couple comes dashing out of a house and drives away in a car. An elderly man looks out the window at them and laughs. The young music composition students were then told to put music to the scene to give it meaning. One student set it to a lovely song to tell the story of a young couple eloping, while the all-knowing father figure looked out the window pretending he doesn’t know their plans. Another student used suspenseful music, and after the car peeled away, the sound of an explosion. Then the elderly man showed his smiling face. This anecdote shows clearly how much influence music has on setting the tone for a scene.
Jinnouchi didn’t systematically study visual interpretation at school. Instead he learned on the job while working on video-game music. As he gained experience, he discovered that if he made music a certain way, it would bring out different emotions. If you use this sound in this situation, this is how the viewer will feel. He began to store these different audio experiences. Through these video interpretations, he formed his individual approach to composition.
Jinnouchi recently purchased a synthesizer. “I like machines. The interior parts were sold separately. I matched them with a standard case, thinking about their shapes and functions as I bought them. I don’t necessarily need all this to work, so it’s my hobby.”
Seattle, a video-game city
“I have recurring memories whenever I hear the music for Xbox’s Halo. We had a great team for the production. Halo 4 was my first assignment when I joined the company. It was the first time for me to have a composition recorded by an orchestra, and there were so many things about the process that were special,” Jinnouchi says. He was brought to Seattle by his former Konami boss, Sotaro Tojima, who had become the audio director for Halo.
“The game-audio community is great in a city like Seattle known for its video game industry,” he says. “It’s a community of people who are involved in production of video-game music. There’s strangely no rivalry with others in rival companies. Everyone is supportive. We take the horizontal connections seriously. And we become friends and go out for drinks.”
There are 39 songs on the Halo 5: Guardians original soundtrack (2-CD set). A live orchestra performance and cutting-edge synthesizer with full use of music software helps create this magnificent music that surpasses one’s expectations about video-game music.
Jinnouchi likes hanging with his music friends, having drinks and talking shop about the latest musical equipment. “I don’t drink much at home, so after the family is asleep, I drink with friends in my neighborhood,” Jinnouchi says. “They’re in the same industry, graduates of Berklee and really brilliant young people. They know all about musical equipment. Once a month, we drink beer at a home studio and make music together.”
It’s an ideal career when one can spend time researching the things one likes. “Since childhood, like a fool with one thought, I’ve been doing the same thing over and over,” Jinnouchi says. “Now I plan to try some new things. As I continue to discover new things, it will deepen my interest, release my adrenaline and I’ll be addicted all over again. There are projects I’d like to work on in the future, but I’d also like to be able to work with certain people now.”
Halo 5: Guardians mixing session with Alan Meyerson, a mixing engineer who has worked on Dunkirk, Batman’s The Dark Knight, and other films.
The game-audio community is great in a city
like Seattle known for its video game industry.
Kazuma Jinnouchi Born in Hiroshima, he graduated from the
Berklee College of Music in 2003 with a major in Contemporary Writing and Production. In 2006, he turned his attention to music for film and TV, creating the music for the Metal Gear Solid series, one of the most famous video game franchises by Konami Digital Entertainment in Tokyo. In 2011, he joined Microsoft’s 343 Industries in Redmond and took charge of the music for the Halo series. This July, he went
independent and works as a freelancer on game, film, and TV series soundtracks.
Website: www.kazumajinnouchi.com
*This article was written in Summer 2018. Jinnouchi moved his studio to Los Angeles in November to join a movie soundtrack project.
by Ai Isono, translated by Bruce Rutledge, the North American Post
On November 6, the Japan External Trade Organization (JETRO) held a Japanese sake seminar at Seattle Central Community College. Attendees, mostly from the restaurant and distribution sectors, were invited to get a better understanding of the charms of Japanese sake. About 30 people attended, trying six different sakes paired with cheese.
At the seminar, Marcus Pakiser, dubbed a Sake Samurai by the Japan Sake Brewers Association Junior Council, gave a lecture about sake. He explained the differences between ginjo, daiginjo, and junmai, talked about the different types of rice used to make sake, and imparted other basic knowledge about the drink. He also added some behind-the scenes anecdotes about work done at sake breweries. “Japanese sake really goes with all sorts of food,” Pakiser said. “I want to put an end to the conventional wisdom that sake has to go with sushi.” He also pointed out that one advantage sake has over wine is that the bigger the bottle, the more cost efficient the 1-ounce pour becomes, making it economically attractive to restaurants.
JETRO is currently putting a lot of effort into public relations for the sake industry. From 2016 to 2017, consumption of sake in the US rose by 16%, but that still accounts for just 0.1% of all the alcohol consumed in the country. The Japanese government is aiming to make global exports of agricultural, forestry, fishery and food products reach 1 trillion yen, and part of that effort is focused on expanding sales of sake in the US.
James Turpin of Yoroshiku attended the event with some colleagues. He said that he likes sake so much that one of his dreams is to visit a Japanese sake brewery in the near future. “The Wataribune sake I drank today is one of those brands that makes me so into sake,” he said. “It was a good chance to get my friends to better understand sake.”
By Misa Murohashi, translated by Bruce Rutledge, the North American Post
“Let’s see the world once again through 7-year-old eyes…” is the theme behind Necchu School, which specializes in adult education and societal exchanges. On December 1, the school will hold an open house at Bellevue Children’s Academy (BCA) to recruit its first class of students.
Necchu School features volunteer teachers who are top specialists in the fields of entrepreneurship, IT, music, academia, and other sectors. They teach classes for adults. The school started in Takahata, Yamagata Prefecture, in 2015, and now a total of 12 schools are operating throughout Japan. The Seattle school is the first to be located outside of Japan. The principal will be BCA founder Yuka Shimizu, who has offered the Necchu School space free of charge. Teachers will include those who visit from Japan and some who reside in the Seattle area. The lessons will be conducted in Japanese, but auxiliary English captions will also be provided.
“This is an opportunity for Japanese working in the Seattle area, Japanese Americans and other Americans with deep ties to Japan to expand their networks,” said principal Shimizu. Hiroko Nishida, who helps coordinate the teachers from Japan, said, “Opening a school in a city like Seattle that cultivates innovation is exciting for the Japanese students and teachers. If the Seattle school is a success, we’d like to spread that model to cities around the Transpacific region.” Nishida is the executive director of the Kamenori Foundation, which promotes educational exchanges between Japan and other regions in Asia and Oceania, and volunteers for the Necchu School.
The first course will begin on February 23 and be held the last Saturday of every month through June. In total, there will be five classes. For the very last class, which coincides with Japan Fair, students from other Necchu schools across Japan are expected to travel to Japan.
At the December 1 open house, Noboru Okubo, president and CEO of Uchida Yoko Co., will visit from Japan to deliver a lecture. Uchida Yoko is one of Japan’s leading companies in the field of ICT (Information and Communication Technologies) infrastructure in office and school facilities. The open house is free and open not only to people in the workforce but also interested high school and university students. For more details, please visit www.necchuseattle.org.
Major Japanese companies and Seattle AI startups have engaged in a series of AI meetings over the past few years that are reaffirming both Seattle’s strong links to Japan and the city’s pre-eminence in the artificial-intelligence sector.
Tom Sato and Tetsu Eto of Innovation Founders Capital are the forces behind these meetings, with Sato scouring the local AI startup scene to pull out the most relevant companies, and Eto raising interest among Japanese companies hungry for 21st century
solutions and Japan-based venture-capital firms looking for the next hot ticket.
The last meetup was held last week at Consul-General Yoichiro Yamada’s residence in Queen Anne and the Columbia Tower. This was the 10th meeting in the last few years. The Japan delegation, which included big players such as Hitachi Zosen, Mitsubishi Corp.,
Ito-Yokado, and the Osaka Chamber of Commerce & Industry, toured Amazon and Microsoft and attended a pitch session where local startups made their 10-minute pitches. The following day, one-on-one meetings were held as Japanese companies and investors
focused on the pitches that caught their attention.
The meetings are sponsored by Innovation Finders Capital, the Washington State Department of Commerce, and Orrick, Herrington & Sutcliffe. They are held quarterly, with some being in Japan and some in Seattle. The deals that are starting to come out of these meetings may just solidify Seattle as the world’s AI leader, thanks in part to the heavy presence of cloud-computing giants Amazon and Microsoft.
Our Japanese immigrant parents regularly organized youth conferences and sports activities to enable us to meet other young Nisei. My grandpa and parents often gossiped about the wayward children who dated or married someone outside the Japanese community (of course discrimination played a role).
Thanksgiving 1955, I was 16, living in Ontario, an eastern Oregon farming community with about 5,000 population.
The annual Japanese Methodist Northwest Youth conference- held every Thanksgiving weekend- drew about 100 youths from Spokane, Tacoma, Portland, Seattle and Ontario. The previous year, my friends came back from Spokane with pictures, wrote letters and talked about the cute guys they met.
The 1955 conference was scheduled for Tacoma. I was excited to attend. My family was poor, so I believe our church must have paid my way.
I borrowed a suitcase and packed my only party dress. I wore my one Pendleton skirt, cashmere sweater with matching socks and saddle shoes. My friend Margaret, Reverend
Fujimore and I boarded the Union Pacific passenger train in Ontario and headed west. Six hundred miles later, we got off at Tacoma on Puget Sound.
Margaret and I were assigned to the Shintani house with Patti Warashima from Spokane. The latter is now a famous Seattle sculptor and taught at the University of Washington art
department. Roger Shimomura did the conference graphics and became a nationally-known artist. He retired as a University of Kansas professor.
Margaret later became a national JACL queen. She drew a lot of attention from the boys. She is currently a high-end San Francisco fashion designer.
I don’t remember the religious messages, but I do remember Frank from Tacoma, along with Spencer and Gary from Spokane. For most of the three days, we noticed each other
and played coy but ended up exchanging addresses and corresponding for a while after the conference.
After completing my nursing studies in Oregon, I moved to Seattle to enroll at the University of Washington. I was hired by the UW’s Library Special Collection in 1970 to document the Nikkei experiences in the Pacific Northwest.
I found similar social experiences spanning the generations in my own family. There are photos from the 1930 Young People’s Christian Conference. My dad, Sago Miyamoto, is in
one of the pictures from a Tacoma gathering. Hana Masuda, wife of Dr. Min Masuda, PhD, who began the Japanese Collection in 1970, told me stories of the fun she had at these church conferences.
Going forward to 1980, our daughter, Lynette, is in one of the photos of the GYOP (Group of Young People) conference hosted by the Seattle Methodist church. Many young delegates made the reverse trip from my 1955 trip in 1980- to Ontario from Seattle.
Each young people’s conference was highlighted with social events. Non-Methodist local youths came to the skating parties and the Saturday night dance after the concluding banquet.
At the dances, the guys were on one side of the church gymnasium and the girls on the other. Mostly, we girls sat and waited for the guys to come all the way across the room to ask us to dance. Glenn Miller’s “In The Mood” or Eddie Fisher’s “Dungaree Doll” were the most popular songs then. Once in a while, two girls would get up and dance on their own.
I met and danced with Chuck Kato at the 1957 Portland conference. Forty years later, in the 1990s, Chuck helped start our Japanese Cultural and Community Center’s (JCCCW) Omoide (Memories) project and writing group. The group is still documenting and preserving stories of our heritage values for the children of the future.
Religion remains a strong cornerstone for creating community and connections. I am thankful for this 2018 holiday season, bringing back memories of a fulfilling life.
We invite you to come to our Omoide program, each third Saturday of the month—except next month (December)–to share your memories with us as well! Just contact us at JCCCW.org
US versus Wong Kim Ark (1898) upheld birthright as a basis for citizenship in a time of blatant racism. It thus has allowed all later immigrant families to establish footholds on these shores.
TO LIVE IN SEATTLE, it is incumbent on all of us to know something about the history of various immigrant g roups that we encounter f requently. Such a background can foster deeper conversations than we might normally have with individuals of such groups. The most logical first such group that comes to mind is Chinese Americans.
In this context, like many a Beacon Hill resident, I have long known that the lingua franca of the number 36 Beacon Avenue bus is Cantonese. It is the language spoken by many an older restaurant and garment worker who settled on the hill after World War II.
Accordingly, I recognize Cantonese when I hear it from its comfortable familiarity. There is also the absence of everyday Mandarin phrases that I can pick out, learned from movies, books, and a Chinese-American friend.
Ni hau. How are you?
Bu zhi dao. I don’t know.
Xie xie. Thank you.
Yet until recently, I never stopped to think about why it is that the early Chinese immigrants who came to Seattle were Cantonese speakers who hailed from southern China.
Chinese historical treaty ports. Image: China Sage.
Like historical immigration from Japan, the southern Chinese immigration story is linked to broader world history. A simple explanation is that southern China is where ports open to foreign trade were first established along key shipping routes between Malaysia, the
Philippines, and Japan. Thus, would-be immigrants needed only board one of the numerous European or American ships that stopped there.
The international Chinese ports were established by the Convention of Chuenpi (1841) and the Treaty of Nanking (1842). The former is remembered today as the agreement that led to Hong Kong becoming a crown colony until 1997.
The siren calls luring immigrants to board the ships were numerous. They included the California Gold Rush ( 1848-1855), the building of the US transcontinental railroad (1863-1869), and the great San Francisco earthquake (1906). Besides these three, there was also ordinary “smuggling in” to the US.
Sinitic languages. Image: Quora.
The latter two merit explanation. The San Francisco earthquake, and the fires that followed it, destroyed prior US records of Chinese immigration. Thus, during the years that followed it, the US had no idea who was supposed to be here, who had traveled back and forth, when, and the like. Thus, the stage was set for an ingenious “paper son” system to evolve.
That is, a later new immigrant could say that he was the Chinese-born son of immigrant so-and-so, residing at such-and-such a US address, and US officials would have to let him in.
Over time, of course, the officials caught on that many such immigrants were gaming the system. There were too many “sons” entering the US during the period when the immigration of Chinese laborers was banned by the Chinese Exclusion Act (1882). The
officials thus set up Angel Island, in San Francisco Bay, as an immigration screening station (1910-1940). The family-history questions they asked of would-be immigrants were extensive, and could run as many as 300-1000.
The year 2018 is quickly coming to an end. We’ve got all the gourmet information you need for the holiday season, from party recipes to Christmas cakes and osechi. There’s plenty of that beloved Japanese taste to go around!
1．Let’s do it! Infuse your party with Japanese hospitality
Here are some holiday-inspired party drinks and dishes. Infuse your party with Japanese taste, and we guarantee your guests will love it! Read More…
2．Put some life into the New Year! Luxurious osechi from the pros
Osechi is the Japanese New Year dish, whose origins go back over a thousand years to the ancient Yayoi Period. The dishes that make up osechi each have a special meaning celebrating the New Year, such as black soybeans for health, chestnuts for wealth, and konbu (kelp seaweed) for happiness. For the 2019 New Year, why not celebrate with osechi made by Japanese restaurant chefs elegantly displayed one by one in a box? Amounts are limited so be sure to place your orders early! Read More…
Besides Osechi on New Year’s Day, it is another Japanese tradition to eat a humble bowl of soba noodles for New Year’s Eve dinner. Read More…
4．Christmas Sweet Treats by Japanese pastry shops
A collection of holiday exclusive sweets from Japanese patissiers in Seattle. Read More…
5．Seattle’s Specialty Tofu Shop
Northwest Tofu opened in 2001. In its 17th year, the shop still makes fresh, delicious tofu daily at its store with no preservatives or GMOs. Read More…
