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The experiences of a father and son struggling to communicate without a shared tongue. |
| What is it, beyond language, that is tested in the open, strained, by the stresses, the pushes and pulls of love? |
| An 85 year-old Japanese guy, drunk, drinking with me at the community party a couple weeks ago, wrote these puzzles on a piece of paper and asked me to solve them. His teacher had given them to him when he was a high school student. I was amazed. I couldn't answer one. Good luck. Answers at the end of this entry. Don't cheat! 1) Why does T = island? 2) Which is correct: I is the 9th / I am the 9th? Enjoy, and remember: these were asked of a Japanese kid maybe seventy years ago. And, even drunk and 85 years-old, this guy could remember the puzzles. Amazing. ____________________________ Answers 1) T is an island because --> WATER, T is surrounded by "water". 2) Both are correct. "I" is the 9th letter in the alphabet and, grammatically speaking, the sentence "I am the 9th" is correct. |
| 27 October 1999 (Illinois) Sitting in my office again, waiting for a no-show students, and he's not doing so well in the class as it is. Really sleepy. Run down. C***** is coming up in two days and I actually can't wait. Called mom last night, let her in on a few things about C*****. Talked to dad about a surprise visit for Christmas. _________________________ 26 October 2007 (Japan) Everyone at work is skittish. One teacher already bailed yesterday, heading back to the States. No one could blame her. Why should anyone be expected to work for free, especially when it seems like the company might collapse? Still, I've asked Nick and Adam to stick around, because there are so many students who are coming in everyday because they know they have lost all their money and just want to get as many lessons as they can before the end. I am not loyal to the company. I just want to help the students. I must be an idiot. Been handing out plenty of business cards, though, telling students about setting up my own school if everything goes bad. Hope it works. Hope it's not necessary. _________________________ 26 October 2009 (Japan) Things did not go so well as I had hoped yesterday. Son and I did not get to play as much as I'd planned, because I got distracted and busy with other things. Kicking myself for this. Also, he panicked about some homework he couldn't find, and was crying because he wouldn't get it in on time. I couldn't find the homework at first, and when I did, couldn't understand what he needed to do or why it was so important. He screamed at me a lot for not understanding. Never seen a kid get so worked up over homework, but there you are. When we finally were able to communicate at the most basic level about the homework, I realized that part of it was just to help around the house, so I took him grocery shopping with me and let him help me make lunch (sandwiches and vegetable soup, with some leftover sushi). That helped. Wife was working all day yesterday; when she got home, it quickly became obvious that she would need to help son with his homework, so I offered to make dinner: she can speak to him, she understands the homework, I don't (and, yes, I hate this). Still, I felt somewhat worthwhile because cooking and cleaning is the one thing around here I feel capable of doing well. They did homework together for three hours. When dinner time came around, everyone had a good time: we laughed, talked and listened to music for the first time during a meal. Nonetheless, in the back of my mind lurks this tension and blackness caused by the knowledge that I will never be able to communicate with my son enough to help things go smoothly. I must be the only father on the planet who has to stupidly consult a dictionary when faced with an scared or angry child. And what can I do about this? I don't have the time to study Japanese that much if I want to improve my business or my writing career. Which is more important? I've already answered that question to myself, but the question just keeps coming back to nag at me. |
| October 28, 1999 (Illinois) Waiting for my hamburger at Denny's. Grading papers. Just cleaned the house up a bit. Got a lot of work to do today so that I've more free time to spend with C**** this weekend. She arrives tomorrow night. Probably catch a movie, I hope. Really gotten into this genealogy thing. Over th past couple days, I've spent about eight hours researching, entering, and organizing data. Called Tony last night, and he gave me some useful leads on George S******, the first S****** of our line to arrive in Idaho. Call grandma tonight, I think, and see what she can give me. Don't know why I like this, but I do. Feels like I'm actually accomplishing something, and I can give it to the rest of the family, present and future. Tony was real friendly and we talked about my planned trip to Japan. H***, his youngest, talked to me about a play she'd just been in, "The Wiz of the West," as part of her fifth grade class (they do one every year, she told me). She also asked if I'd write her letters and stuff from Japan. :) At least I'm doing something. God knows it's not my thesis. How will it go with C**** tomorrow? I'm worried that we're just getting back together because its easier than staying apart, alone, searching for new relationships. I obviously care about her. But love? I wish I knew. Too unsure, scared. Little kids keep pushing this button below a toy dog: "Your imagination could take you anywhere." Wishbone. _______________________________________________________________________ October 15, 2007 (Japan) Another payday with no pay. That's 3 months now that pay has been late--and still I am patient. CEO sent fax apologizing (too briefly) for the situation, and to tell us we're scheduled to be paid on the 19th. However, news sources report the sale of Nova stock will bring 7,000,000 yen on the 26th: How can we possibly be getting paid sooner than that? Only by bank loan me thinks. Haven't yet told wife this month's situation. Don't want to worry her more than necessary. I'm fairly confident we'll get paid on the 19th. All of this just underscores the pressing need to break away and either start a school of my own or get the f*** out of Japan. Either prospect pleases. Son's depressing me lately. He tells me not to read to him because I read too slow, and he also doesn't understand my Japanese. That hurts. Man, children sure are able to wound their parents deeply, should parents take their children seriously. Cleaning day today, so I'm in a hurry. At Fadie now, sipping coffee after a little shopping (cereal, hashbrowns). Go back home soon, eat lunch, go to work. No desire to go to work. Let's make the day productive, shall we? _____________________________________________________________________ October 24, 2009 (Japan) Morning with son: play, play, play! I've been playing with him little bits at a time for days now, too busy to do otherwise, but today we'll go to the park. Got a lot of work for my own school done yesterday at the part-time job where they've cut my salary and are trying to pressure me to change my schedule to fit their needs. Finding this comparison of different years quite interesting. Hope readers are too. Nothing much to say beyond the fact that next week I will be sending out another round of stories to different publishers, none of the previous ones having even bothered to answer my numerous emails (man, that is so annoying). Question confronting me now is: Should I press ahead with this novel idea I have, or continue working on the short stories? The novel is nothing that serious, just a quasi-fantasy thing that's been pushing me for attention recently. Maybe write that sucker (marking my first extended work) so that I have a better sense of novel writing for the other, more serious, projects lining up in the noggin? Confused, but highly creative recently. |
| October 25, 1999 (Illinois) [Remember: C**** is my former ex-wife; no relation to my current wife] So, what do we make of all this? Talked to C**** for about an hour and a half last night when I realized I just wasn't going to get any more work done. I guess I do still care about her very much, but have emotionally distanced myself so much from almost everyone, including her, that it is difficult to express anything to this woman who's caused me so much pain. But wouldn't it be better to know that we tried again, even if it didn't work out? C****'s even been looking into getting a teaching position in Japan if I go, which was a suggestions I was going to make. Her openness to the idea is at least a promising sign, whereas, before, she wouldn't have entertained the notion. Expressed to her my need for her support, that there were so many things she never said to me or did that meant so much in their almost unnoticed absence. I can feel myself losing control, letting my emotions take over. I don't want things to go back to the way they were, all that second-guessing and tense expectancy. It sickens me to think it could happen again. She's checking into teaching positions in Japan!? I mean, jeez, we've only been talking again for something like two weeks now and have not overcome any real barriers yet, in my opinion. She's moving too fast, taking control again, and I doubt she sees it this way. At all. Really, it quite possibly boils down to this: I don't trust her. I mean, how could I, so soon after it all, when everything but her words point towards other reasons for wanting to get back together? Can she see these things like I do? ___________________________________________________________________ October 23, 2009 (Japan) Exhausted. Stressed. Busy day today. Finished a couple of articles, lots of emails, scheduling, and a dentist's visit, and have two lessons to teach, son to take to exercise class, more housework and other sundry things to take care of. The dentist went well. Time to gloat: three visits over three weeks. 1st visit: $20. 2nd visit: $10. 3rd visit: $18. All of this to replace half of a tooth which had rotted out. All that drilling and cleaning, forming and fitting, listening to a couple of questions like, "How the heck did you lose half a tooth and not notice it?" This is the second time one of my back teeth has shed half of itself and I never noticed it. No pain. No painful money payment, either. Son and I had a good time last night doing homework, taking a bath and playing games. I am always aware though, how much of a wall is between us. He can't tell me jokes; or, if he does, I have to pretend to laugh at them. I don't understand the words or the humor. I try, but it is very difficult. It makes me sad. Been very depressed recently, and the look in his eyes when he realizes I don't get what he's kind of stabs me in the gut, and I don't always react well to that. I need to get more sleep. |
| Decided to share this with you; may help explain why I do what I do; may not. October 24, 1999 (Illinois) [Note: C**** is my ex-wife; at the time of this diary entry, she had moved out and was demanding a divorce] As if life weren't interesting enough: When C**** brought me back from the airport she told me how much she missed me, how she would rather live with me than without, etc. Of course, that was at 4 in the morning. I curled her into bed with me and told her I missed and loved her, all of which just opened this huge f*cking can of worms. So, now we're talking about the what-if's and problems of patching things up and getting back together. Personally, it scares the she-yut out of me. Too much has passed between us. The whole things seems like some strange but, to me, inevitable nightmare of improbability with a potentially destructive outcome no matter how it fairs otherwise. Oh, god, what the f*ck have we done to ourselves? I asked her to write me a letter. Let's just exchange letters for a while, see what we can see in those. Take it very slow. But she deserves a chance to talk, if what she's telling me is really how she feels. If I do care about her like I think I do, then these fears and desires need to be aired, if for nothing more than to clear the air. We're tired of being mad at one another. Sitting here and wondering if there's a gas leak in the apartment because I'm tired and light-headed, and Jo* and Car* though the place smelled heavily of gas. Can't tell. Maybe it's just the smell of the beaten, because I don't notice it. Maybe this is just a metaphor for C**** and I. [Hybridity] Conference in Oklahoma went well, though my presentation didn't. N. Katherine Hayles was impressed with me, so that's a promising thing. But nothing much interesting happened there. Just good to get out of this town. New surroundings. Cool campus. ___________________________________________________________________________________________________ October 22, 2009 (Japan) Son's off at school and I've an incredibly busy day ahead of me. Good money day, though. Seriously depressed yesterday; ready to scream during lessons at the nervous and shy faces confronting me. Writing contest results came back: not even honorable mention. Things are better at home. Big talk yesterday, getting things out in the open: "I don't want to die here," I said. "I do," she said. Read into that what you will. It's difficult. I never intended to immigrate to this country; increasingly, I know really want to get out. Finished a big story the other day. Yay! Next week I will start a new round of submissions. Man, these magazines don't even bother to reply to my follow-up emails. Don't these people realize they are dealing with extremely sensitive, potentially depressive people here??? (bit of self-deprecating humor there; forgive me). |
| Yesterday started badly. Had three hours sleep and very stiff shoulders from too much stress, the fight having lasted several hours the previous night, and continuing on in the morning despite my best efforts to the contrary. I had spaced out the community's sports festival. My absent-mindedness was not appreciated in the least; but the anger just kept escalating, and I couldn't apologize enough--nothing I did or said alleviated the tension. We got everything together, though, submerged our animosity, and took son to the festival. When we arrived, a few snide comments by the significant other were launched my way, in English so that no one else would catch them. "Look," I said, "if we're going to do this, keep your comments to yourself, and then we can smile, and everyone can think we're nice people, and not the vicious bastards we know ourselves to be." She agreed. The festival was quite fun. This was the whole local community's sports festival. The community is divided up into small groups; each group has their own banner that they bring year after year. We listened to a few speeches from local leaders, and then did the group calisthenics. The first races started at 9 a.m. It became apparent right away that though our group is small in number, mostly kids, and most of those girls, we have the best runners around. We won every race or game we entered, to our own great surprise. Everyone was smiling and cheering by the time lunch was served at 11:30 a.m. I was given a nice lunchbox (bento) and beer to take with me, as I had to work from 12:30 to 5:00pm. So, by noon, I was walking down the road to my apartment, beer in hand, tipsy already, and so, so tired from running, suppressing emotions, and sleep dep. Got through teaching okay. Student numbers are decreasing slightly again, depressing me. Went home and found that we would have dinner with the community at the community center. This means good food, fun conversation and drinking with some very serious drinkers: the old men of the community. For some reason they like me. We ate lots of good food, drank beer, shyotchu, umeshu (courtesy of the local rich guy, my neighbor), laughed and talked. The kids had a great time playing in the room next door. People always ask me questions about how I find life in Japan, and I do my best to field these in my broken Japanese, but as the evening wears on and I get drunk, I have to shut down. Ended the night outside with the rich guy, smoking cigarettes and laughing about how "scary" our wives are (his words, not mine). Wives came out later to chide us about our conversation, but we ignored them. It was so nice to have someone to talk to. |
| More to follow.... |
| Picking up son at his after-school day care ("jido club") yesterday to take him to gymnastics, I was greeted by a little boy throwing sand at me. This was the same kid who I had to shout at the other day after he got into our car uninvited, insulted me (called me the impolite version of "bowel movement"), and stood behind our car, preventing us from leaving. Well, when I got hit by the wet sand, I just looked at him as the teachers held him there and asked, "Was that fun?" "No." "Well, that's good." No big problem--just a kid seeking attention; just have to make sure he doesn't bully son as revenge for my shouting at him the other day. Things got worse quickly, though. As I tried to get son (who was nervously watching the dirt-thrower) into the car, another kid came up, holding a red, plastic bucket of wet sand and a mischievous grin. A teacher, one who I've pegged as the most experienced and strongest-willed of them all, rushes from the sidelines to confront the kid, who was obviously making to throw the dirt at me. Smiling, he throws a handful at her. She shouted at him to stop it. He didn't. He threw another handful. I watched, angry that a kid would think he could get away with this. Anger turned to fury as the kid reared back and chucked the entire bucket, hitting the teacher square in the face. That was hard plastic, and heavy. The teacher is in her sixties. So much for the famed Japanese respect for the elderly. There are many things you can get away with, being a foreigner in Japan. Shouting at the top of your lungs and rushing at someone is one of them. "Hey! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!" I shouted, in English, and grabbed the kids arm. In an instant, smiles and giggles turned to shaking fear on the verge of tears. I would've been happy about this, but I was furious. I continued shouting at him in a mixture of English and Japanese. "How can you think doing that to your teacher is okay?" There was a question I really wanted to know the answer to. Teachers and children gathered behind us, silently watching. The teacher who'd been hit by the bucket stood nearby, saying "Thank you." Not sure if she was saying that out of honest appreciation or just in an attempt to get me the heck out of there--and I couldn't have cared less. This kid...well, "all I can say is that his parents should be ashamed of him." Normally I would never think like that, but in this case I do. Obviously he and this other kid have been acting like this for some time at jido club, and I am sure the teachers have told their parents about it. And the parents have done nothing to stop it. He was giggling again, though, by the time son and I drove away. Now I am worried that these two kids are going to take revenge on son. So, I am considering volunteering some time there every week, teaching English, keeping an eye on them, instilling a little discipline, and getting them used to me, the foreigner they consider nothing but a target. And I'm sure the teachers wouldn't mind having a man with a short temper around the place on occasion. Any suggestions? |
| I have sent out dozens of job applications, feelers, and story submissions--and only about 5% of those have bothered to respond. Not to sound like an old guy, but there was a time when a magazine or prospective employer would at least make a minimum of effort to let you know that they had glanced at your name and appreciated your efforts. Now, it seems, there's no reason to bother. Hmmm. I know there have been a few emails I haven't replied to. Guess I'm going to have to make sure that doesn't happen again. Son is doing great, by the way. Getting him out the door in the mornings is so much easier, especially since wife is here much more often in the morning these days to help with communication. We have decided, wife and I, that she will speak English more in the house, even to son, in order to improve bother her and son's English. Of course, we've said that before, and neglected our promise. We shall see. Battling depression again. First month's paycheck under the new contract was about $200 less than usual. Don't know how we're going to make ends meet--we just will, I guess. No choice, literally. There are absolutely no other jobs for me in this town. In Japan, unless you have an IT or banking certification of some type, then you are an English teacher. Feeling the strain and constraints. |
| Talking to a student the other night. I've been teaching him for about six, possibly seven, years. He loves to play shogi (Japanese chess); I knew that, as we often swap notes about tournaments we played in during our younger days, I having been a moderately good chess player as a kid. We often reminisce together about younger days (he's about 58 years old). What I didn't know was that he was the shogi champion of Japan, adult divisions, two consecutive times! I really had no idea. And here we were, talking about how we really don't like our jobs, how about bosses don't care about us, and our responsibilities to our families that have kept us in these positions so long (well, much longer and much more soul crushing in his case). He suffers from a variety of physical ailments, brought on in part, I think, by his mental illnesses caused by stress. God, I hate this culture, sometimes, the way it is so stressful and how, like a neutron bomb, it just kills people yet leaves them standing. Often I feel its doing the same thing to me. I get scared on those days. Really scared. If you saw me riding my bicycle around, wearing headphones, you probably wouldn't realize I was listening to really loud thrash and talking to myself all the while, trying to calm myself, assure myself that, yes, I can never, ever, get time back, but that'll be okay; I'll make it; I'll publish; I'll get enough money to pay off my loans, enough money to pay the bills, enough money to give me family the things they deserve. It will happen, I keep telling myself. But every day it seems the students are getting fewer and farther between, and the wages just keep decreasing; every day, I apply for freelance positions and submit stories, but usually never hear back, and then when I do, it is just rejections. I look at my students, at his twitches and the desperation in his eyes, and I am so afraid that will be me. I love him, though. He's a great, kind guy. I just don't want to walk the same path as him. I don't want to have to. Writing is my last chance at a happy, fulfilling career; if I lose heart now, if I doubt myself again, too much, I'm not sure I'll be able to pick myself up again like I did a year ago. I was never a good chess player, and I stopped trying to be once I realized that. I believe I have the makings of being a good writer, but am afraid I'll quit again. It is very difficult being here, alone, without a network of friends and colleagues to lean on for support and encouragement. That's why this site, WDC, is so important to me. Last year, it gave me that support and feedback. Thank you all for reading. I hope your realize how much it means to me. |
| Son is very much into horror stories; be them in books, on TV, or in movies, he absorbs them at a rate of about four a day, often without looking up. Trying to curb that desire, a little, balance it, with Looney Tunes. Sent my test chapter for the ghost-writing job--won't hear if they'll hire me until November. Read the HORRIBLE news that Hillary Swank actually appears NAKED in front of her partner's 6 year-old child. SHAME on her for showing that kid the human BODY. That could damage his little psyche for LIFE. Unfortunately, you'll find about a thousand doctors and psychologists in Japan that will avow the opposite is true. After nine years here, overcoming my own American-bred aversion to public nudity, I find myself agreeing with the Japanese on this matter--"skinship," they call it. Long day today: grocery shopping, writing two articles, teaching for 6 hours, pick up son, make dinner, do homework with son, take bath with son (naked shame!), play video game with son, read a story with son, go to bed, get up after son sleeps, write like crazy (if I can keep myself from getting distracted). Just a typical Tuesday while wife is at school. |
| Strange day yesterday. Got a call in the afternoon from son's school. I couldn't make out what they were telling me, but something had happened to son--either he'd gotten sick or he'd been hurt. I told them I was coming, grabbed a couple of dictionaries and went to the school (which is, luckily, just across the street). Got there and, to my relief, found that he'd just fell down as a bunch of kids pushed and shoved there way through the doors to get back in after recess, scraping his chest up pretty bad on the edge of a step. He didn't cry. I was paranoid, though, and checked with him and the teacher to make sure it wasn't a case of bullying--son didn't see who did it, and the teacher was certain this was not the case. Just careless kids. Anyway, I took him home, canceled my next class, and let him relax. After my company class in the evening, I came home to a nice meal. As I was eating, I bit down into some hard, like a piece of bone. Fishing around I found it: part of my molar. Tongue confirmed that a big chunk had just come away, painlessly. Big, jagged hole where once was the corner of the crown (sounds like I'm bemoaning the loss of the British Empire). So, now that I'm in a really busy time, with a potentially lucrative writing project in the works, I have to put everything aside and visit the dentist? No way! I'll wait until Monday. Thankfully (and please note this, my fellow Americans) I have universal health care--no matter what the dentist does, this trip will cost me, at most $30. That, at least, is a weight off my mind. Just have to worry about the time. Oh, and whether I should change dentists and go to one of my students--he speaks English, and that could be less stressful. |
| Woke up this morning at about 2:30 because of the wind knocking some things around on our balcony. Got up and secured them, but couldn't get back to sleep again. So, I went to work on the computer. Sleepy now. Got ten more hours of work time before I get home tonight. Of course, even if the typhoon does hit us, I will have to go to work--they never close that school, even in the worse weather. Teachers are expendable, in their opinion. Finished off a couple articles in the wee hours before dawn. Tried to work on a story, but failed to come up with anything interesting. Have to push myself, because I do have a goal of finishing the rough draft of a novel in the next three months, on top of all the other writing projects. Just have to see what I can do. Son is good. We played our game again last night--with his mom's approval. It was fun. And I showed him the ridiculously huge fight scene from the second Matrix movie, just so he could laugh a lot (which he did, amid gasps of sugoi! "great!"). Man, I am a terrible parent, aren't I? |
| It's not that he woke up so nicely this morning, in a playful mood and smiling. It's not that he told me he loved me, and then said my breath is "stinky". It's not that he ordered breakfast like he was at a restaurant. It's certainly not that we had a great time playing after breakfast, watching TV, and brushing our teeth, and then playing some more. It's that when the time came to get out the door, he wouldn't stop goofing around and making fun of me, that he couldn't take seriously my warning that he was going to be late for school, that I didn't like getting slapped on the butt, that he was going to have dinner with his grandparents tonight and so I wouldn't be able to see him all day. That's what made me want to smack him on top of the head. So I did, a little, and then pushed him out the door, and we said "I love you" to each other as he descended the stairs out of sight. |
| Things have been going so much better with son since our trip to Europe. Of course, there are the occasional flare-ups, and at times he'd rather ignore my existence than listen to me, but he has been very kind of late, and that has made all the difference. Yesterday there was a small festival in town. He wanted to go, and I had planned to go. But just after breakfast, as we were all getting ready to go, and I I was preparing for my lessons after the festival, our printer broke down. Wife said I should take it to the shop for repairs, but I didn't want to disappoint son. So, I talked to him, and he said he understood "demo san-nin de motto tanoshii nee?" (but three people would be more fun, right?) As luck would have it, though, taking the printer to the shop and explaining the problem took only a couple minutes, so I was able to go to the festival for a short while with the family. In terms of attractions, sights and food, it wasn't worth it; but we were happy, and that was nice. Lining the streets were booths selling bits of food on sticks, toys, and games. The organizers had tried to make things interesting, but when the first act I saw was a monkey dancing, I knew it would be a lame festival. It was hot, and almost everyone was squinting in the bright sunshine, not really smiling. He wanted me to play with him in a playground packed with children, but I declined, saying I was too tired and didn't want to leave mama sitting alone in the sun. Too often, recently, I've declined his invitations to play; gotta change that. |
| Not big news in Japan's mainstream media yet, and not sure what the view of this is yet in America, but I just wanted to bring your attention to the case of Christopher Savoie, and American being jailed in Japan for attempting to abduct his children back to America. Savoie's Japanese ex-wife, Noriko, had already abducted the children to Japan after the Tennessee court granted him full custody. Japan has not signed the Hague Convention against child abduction, so Noriko knew that she could take the children to Japan and hide them from her ex-husband. Japan sees no reason to recognize the decision of a U.S. court in this matter, and it has continued to ignore the international community's recognition that children should have access to both parents. As a non-Japanese father in Japan whose faced divorce on more than a couple of occasions, this case (and the hundreds of others like it which have not received enough attention) really strikes a nerve. Would a Tennessee judge award an uncaring, unloving, irresponsible father full custody? The decision of who the children should live with was not Noriko's alone, but she took that choice from both Christopher and the U.S. legal system, and the Japanese government (and, strangely, as you will see, the U.S. government, too) supported her. Christopher Savoie came to Japan, found his children, put them in a car, and rushed to the American Embassy in Fukuoka. The Embassy refused to open the gate for him! He is an American citizen, as are his children! Yes, America, let's continue to turn our back on this problem. I know too many non-Japanese men in this country who stay in truly horrible marriages full of abuse and adultery by both parents, because they know if they get a divorce, they will never see their children again. Historically, parents left behind when their children are abducted to Japan have little hope and little recourse for justice because the Japanese government ignores U.S. family court rulings and will not honor the rights of American parents. Even in “extreme cases” such as when the abducting parent passes away, the Japanese government has not returned the child to the left behind parent. In fact, there is no known case of Japan ever returning an abducted Japanese-American child to the left behind parent. By all accounts (I haven't picked up a newspaper on this), the Japanese media are circling the wagons, portraying this case and the (scant) attention its receiving as an attack on Japan's traditional values. Family matters are a taboo subject for public scrutiny (I think I've mentioned this before). Again: If you believe child abduction by either parent is a violation of human rights, then, please, look into this matter. Apparently, New Jersey Congressman Chris Smith has called for action against Japan's refusal to sign the Hague Convention. I urge you, readers, to write letters to your congressman, asking them to support Chris Smith in this. You are reading the words of someone who has lived in fear of child abduction for years (even though I doubt my wife would do it, she could, and that scares me in ways you may not fully understand). Chris Smith's proposal: “My legislation, HR 3240 empowers the United States to more aggressively pursue the resolution of abduction cases,” Smith said. “Our current system is not providing justice for left behind parents or for children whisked away from their mom or dad. Congress must act so that more children are not further traumatized by parental abduction.” Key provisions of the Smith legislation include: * Requires the President to respond with a range of mutually reinforcing penalties, including sanctions against a country, when that country has shown a pattern of non-cooperation in resolving child abduction cases * Creates the position of Ambassador at Large for International Child Abduction within the State Department to advise the Secretary of State and raise the profile of the more than 2,800 children who have been abducted. * Empowers the Ambassador at Large to pursue additional legal frameworks abroad, including bilateral agreements with countries that have not yet acceded to the Hague Convention on the Civil Aspects of International Child Abduction. * Authorizes greater resources for a new office within the State Department to better assist left behind parents and expand the State Department’s ability to collect detailed information on abductions. “Child abduction is child abuse,” Smith said. “The kidnapped child is at risk for serious emotional and psychological problems. As adults, they may struggle with identity issues, their own personal relationships and parenting. Thank you for reading. |
| The new schedule, which I've chosen to combat my own tendency to procrastinate, has me up at 4:30 or 5 in the morning, writing until son wakes up at 6ish, then writing again after he's off to school. So far, it's working. I've been completing these freelance articles, and I've started the novel, but I haven't been getting much work done on short stories. Wondering how long I can keep this up before I lose steam, focus, or ambition. Son is good. Getting tall. He surprises me every day. Recently he gets up in the morning on his own, without the usual half-hour of threats and pleads for him to wake up. In fifteen minutes, I'm out the door again. Got an English class to teach at a big chemical company, and then another private one at my school. Finish work at 9pm. Eat dinner quick, then to bed. Still, I am happy. |
| Last night, son and I had some free time together. Wife was out, he'd finished his homework, we'd finished our bath. We had an hour until bedtime. He asked to play a video game (we can only play when wife is not at home, because she strongly disapproves). I said, Okay, but only for twenty-five minutes. After that, we brush teeth and go to bed. And don't tell mama. Got it? Yes. So we played, and we had a great time. Tied score. It's a fun, Tetris-like game, no violence, no shooting, and I feel that 25 minutes a week of video games is not too much. We stopped on time, brushed teeth, and then went to bed. No problems. First thing he said to his mother this morning was, We played a TV game last night! It was fun! Dark looks from across the room at me from wife. Hmm. Talked to him after that and complimented him on his honesty, all the while thinking, You're going to have to learn how to keep some things quiet if you're ever going to want to have some real fun in life. |
| If you haven't already, watch the "District 9". This movie has received some negative criticism from underwhelmed movie-goers who went in expecting a...I don't know, special effects wonderland exploding with explosions and stuff. "District 9" isn't like that at all. I loved it's realism. In the spirit of the best S.F., "District 9" takes the world as it is and adds a little extra something (aliens) to show us something about humanity we may not have seen clearly before. Go to this movie for the characters, the dialog and the moral ambiguity it probes. I was impressed by the way at the end of the movie we could feel sorry for or even forgive the main character who, at the beginning, is just a small-minded, bigoted bureaucrat without back-bone. I think that is one of the most intriguing parts of this movie: there's a sense at the end that if we do feel sorry for this guy, if we do attribute some sense of heroism to his actions, what does that say about us? In so many ways, this guy is just repulsive and the embodiment of self-interest (i.e., human), but it is by his actions (the movie hints) that this alien species will finally judge whether or not to wage war on us. I have to ignore the whole symbolism of apartheid and racism in the movie because I just don't think I can it justice here, and it's so obvious anyway that it doesn't need me. It's a great movie. At the end, ask yourself: Why do I feel empathy for these guys (human or alien)? |
| Got to talking with one of my students yesterday about the issue of over-protective parents in Japan (otherwise known as "Monster Parents"), the kind of parents who are always complaining to teachers if their child doesn't get top scores in the class, doesn't win that special medal, or is scolded by the teacher for bad behavior. Basically, these people are a menace, and a nightmare for teachers. Unable to reconcile their own loss of power of their children with their own sense of insecurity, hounded by a sense of shame if their child isn't "the best," they storm into schools demanding that everyone recognize that they are good parents; that they are raising their children well; that they are, not to put too fine a point on it, doing their jobs. I realized that I am the opposite. Not so much by choice, I said, by by my situation as an immigrant. I know that I can't speak or read the language well enough to help son with his homework, and that I lack the cultural knowledge necessary to help him become a fluent, fluid member of Japanese society. As such, I understand that almost anyone else will be able to give him vital information and feedback, and so I welcome the input of as many people as possible into son's life. I want people to tell him useful things, and I know that I won't agree with everything they have to say or teach him. I know this, but I welcome it. It will be my responsibility to tell him my view of what others have said, and do my best to let him know that I tell him my views as correct because I love him and want to protect him. He is being bullied again at the daycare. He doesn't want to go. I told him to ignore it, to walk away. He said he will try. I want to hurt these kids that bully him, because I know they do it on account of the fact that son looks different, looks foreign, and they are small-minded little bigots who know nothing except what they've heard from their parents. |
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