“Well, if we get about ten or fifteen people,” said my colleague Michael Sullivan, “that’ll be a good group. And it’s supposed to rain, so who knows who will show up?” For a few years, Michael and I had been working on telling bits and pieces of Japanese American history …
As I’m writing this essay, I have moved between the despair I mentioned last month and the hope that I have for the future. My daughters went to their first protest march; my oldest daughter made her first call to a senator without being prompted or asked.
These last several weeks after this year’s presidential election, I have grieved for my community, one that is made up largely of people from a variety of marginalized and minority communities. Friends who are Asian Americans, African Americans, Latinos/as, Native Americans. Friends who are gay and lesbian and bisexual and …
Readers here may already be familiar with the fascinating story of Yama and Nagaya, a Japanese sawmill village settlement on Bainbridge Island, Washington. From 1883 to the 1920s, Japanese pioneers created a village complete with houses, churches and temples, a grocery store, laundries, a hotel, and even a photo studio. …
Cherry blossoms made out of tiny white shells. A handcarved wooden vase. A Japanese doll in kimono.
“What are you working on now?” my hairdresser asks me. We’ve seen each other for years, and she knows about my writing projects.
Every September, thousands of people “do the Puyallup.” For Washington State residents it’s an opportunity to visit the State Fairgrounds, ride the rollercoasters, listen to concerts, and eat scones with raspberry jam.
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