February 13^th 12pm JST

Sendai, Japan

(February 12^th 11pm EST)

 

           

 

We sat in the car on the side of the road looking at each other. The street was silent except for a dog barking in the distance.

            "What are you talking about?" Mother looked at me with her brow furrowed. "I have done nothing but worry about you since the day you were born. I've done nothing but worry if I was doing the right thing, if I should have done something different. All I've done is worry about you and Yoshie!" I sat there for a moment, my hands on the steering wheel.

            "Do you want to know when it was that I  started to despise you?" She leaned back against the door as if she was looking for an escape, but the cold gray wall next to the car would prohibit anything of the sort. I could see a little bit of fear in her eyes as she darted them from mine to something behind me. I'm sure she suspected that I didn't quite like her, but I don't know if she ever really knew how much I disliked her. "It started in about the 4th grade. I don't know if you remember or not. Probably not. I had gotten into a fight at school and I had come home with a black eye. The first time this happened you hugged me and it made me feel good. Then when it happened again, you did nothing. I even heard you talking to Dad about it. How Grandmother had suggested that it be what you do. I heard you talk about 'him'. How you felt you had totally screwed up and how you were too afraid to raise your own kids."

            "I'm afraid I'm not following you." Mother still had that scared look in her eyes but she was also a bit curious. In truth, I didn’t really despise her, but it was more like she had done so many disappointing things that I just couldn’t love her as much as I would have liked to. But, I had been wanting to tell her a lot for a long time, and despise seemed to be the best way to get her attention. "So, you decided not to like me because I chose to let you deal with a problem at school?"

            "It wasn't just then. It's ever since then. You have constantly gotten advice from Grandmother on how to raise us. You have never tried to do it your own way."

            "Kazuo, you're not making any sense. How is my taking advice from your Grandmother causing you to dislike me?"

            "Well, since we all know how much you two despise each other, it seems odd that she is the only one whom you take advice from. And the fact that all the advice she hands out is how to raise us as Japanese."

            "But you are Japanese."

            "Only half."

            "But it is looked down upon to be half anything in this country! You could have gotten into a lot of trouble if you had been too different."

            "Don't you remember why I was getting into fights in fourth grade?"

            "That was a long time ago..."

            "Because they were saying stuff about you. Because you were my mother, and I was defending you. I may look more like Dad than I do you, but I still can’t hide that I’m not fully Japanese, and that is because of you. Because everyone knows who my mother is. But because you didn't seem to care that I was getting beat up because of you, I quit caring.”

            “That is a stupid reason to fight anyways. I don’t care what others say about me.”

            “You don’t understand, I quit caring for you.” Mother’s eyes went wide.

            “But…”

            “I have never been fully Japanese, and whether I like it or not, I inherited a lot of your personality. Dad’s always saying so. But you would never let me be me.

            "While we were out in public, you would scold us for doing something that was not inherently Japanese. Any habits we had picked up from you, we were scolded for doing. We were trained to be proper Japanese children, who would grow up to be proper Japanese adults."

            "But what is wrong with that? You live in Japan. You should have proper behavior and conduct with where you are living!"

            "That is true, but what do I have to show for my other half? Is there anything there for me to be proud of? No. Nothing. You have forced us to hide our American selves, to be ashamed of it."

            "I did no such thing! I never taught you to be ashamed of anything!"

            "But you never taught us to be proud of it, either." We sat there quiet as a random car passed by. "And it's all because of 'him' isn't it?"

            "But, what happened with him..."

            "It's because you thought you ruined his life, because you thought you did the wrong thing and lost all confidence in yourself to raise your own children your own way." Mother sat not sure what to say. She opened her mouth and then closed it. She knew I was right. 

            "Why didn't you say anything sooner?" She wasn't looking at me when she said it, "If I had known...maybe..."

            "So, are you saying it's my fault for not saying anything?"

            "No! But if you had..." We sat in silence for a few minutes before my eye caught the clock on the dashboard. We were late picking up Yoshie. Without saying another thing, I started up the car and pulled away from the curb. Within a few minuets we were pulling up to the curb in front of the red brick wall of the school were Yoshie was standing, waiting. I unlocked the door and Yoshie flopped into the backseat. This was odd, Yoshie was usually so hyper and happy, something she got from Father.

            "How did it go Yo-chan?" I asked looking at her through the rearview mirror.

            "Okay." This time, even Mother picked up on the change in her.

            "Yoshie, did something happen?"

            "My dreams were just crushed, that's all."

            "You failed the test? But you've been studying so hard."

            "It wasn't the test. It was the interview." Something was very wrong. Usually even if she did badly on a test or an interview she would always look at it positively. She reminded me of Mother. I had already started to pull away from the curb when Mother grabbed my arm. I jumped at first, but then pulled back over again. She turned around in the seat so she could face her.

            "I want you to tell me what happened."

            "It's already over, what's the point in telling you about it now."

            "Because, I'm your mother and I want to know." Yoshie and I looked at each other through the rearview for a moment. Mother had never forced us to tell her anything we didn't want to tell her. Yoshie, I think was too shocked to come up with some kind of reply, so she told her the truth.

            "They said that I lied on my application form. The teacher said that I did not put on it that I was of mixed birth, and she said that even if I had it would have been a lie. She said that she would have known because of the poor dye job on my hair, where I had dyed it brown and then black. I assured her that its natural color was brown, but she wouldn't believe me." Yoshie had started crying now. I wish there had been something I could have done for her, but instead it was Mother. Before either of us could say anything Mother had pulled down the visor, pulled her hair band from her hair, ran her fingers through it and had hopped out of the car. Yoshie jumped out after her asking her what she was doing. I wanted to do the same, but I couldn't leave the car on the side of the road. Quickly I did a U turn and pulled into the school gates and parked the car in a teachers spot. I grabbed Mother's purse, cause you didn’t want to leave anything like that in a school area, and got out. I caught up with the two just as they cut through a line of interviewees and into a classroom.

            "Excuse me, we are in the middle of an interview here. If you have some business with the school, could you please inquire at the central office." It was a woman who said this. I'd say, she looked like a very stereotypical teacher; she had her hair pulled up into a tight bun, and a pair of glasses sat low on her nose that I imagine she had a habit of looking over them and down at you.

            "The only business I have is with you," Mother replied. I had only heard her use this tone of voice maybe one other time, and that was when she was talking to Grandmother. "My daughter just informed me that you told her she had lied about her hair."

            "I have caught several students who have lied about their hair today. You are going to have to be a bit more specific," the woman sneered. A small balding man sat next to her and attempted to speak up, but all he needed was a look from her to shut him up. They sat at a brown folding table in front of the blackboard. I looked around and the only other thing in the room was an applicant sitting on a chair in the center of the room looking between Mother and the woman nervously.

            "Okay, Sakamoto Yoshie. Applicant #2345823." When did Mother have time to remember her application number?

            "Ah, yes. The one pretending to be American. That one is a classic."

            "Ah, yes," Mother replied, copying the teachers arrogant accent, "Except this time, she wasn't pretending. I know for a fact that she wrote on her application that she was mixed, half Japanese and half American."

            "I'm afraid no such thing was written." 

            "Well then, would you be so kind as to show me?"

            "I'm afraid that's not possible. You see, how am I to know you are not some gaijin she picked up off the street?" I don't know how she knew, but Mother held her hand out toward me, and I handed her her purse. She opened it and reached inside for her wallet. From her wallet, she produced her drivers license and showed it to the woman.

            "Here is more than enough proof. My name is Sakamoto Celeste. My husband's name is Sakamoto Shino. I am an official resident of this country, and have been for over ten years. I am a teacher at Tohoku International School. If you would like, I can call them and you can talk to them about who my daughter is!" By this point Mother's voice had gotten quite loud. The woman seemed a bit miffed, but she wasn't about to back down. She put both her hands on the table and pushed herself up. They looked at each other in the eye and the woman was just about to say something, when someone spoke up from the door.

            "May I ask what is going on in here?" We all turned around and an older man with pure white hair stood in front of a crowd of students.

            "Principle, I'm glad you are here," the woman said with a smirk. I wondered what Mother would do now. "This woman and this girl are trying to trick us."

            "Miss Tanaka, I was not talking to you, I was talking to this lady here." The Principle then turned  to Mother, "Mrs. Sakamoto, was it? What seems to be the problem?"

            "This woman assumed my daughter was lying about dying her hair by saying that she was of mixed birth. Which is not even possible because I know she put on her application that she was of mixed blood."

            "Is this true, Miss Tanaka?" The Principle turned  to the woman and waited for her answer. Miss. Tanaka seemed to waver a bit, but grounded herself again. She seemed to be used to people questioning her.

            "She most certainly did not put that on her application," Miss. Tanaka stated flatly.

            "Ummm... If I may, Principle." The small balding man next to her spoke up softly.

            "Yes, Mr. Sanada."

            "I'm afraid that Miss. Tanaka is lying."

            "WHAT?!" Miss Tanaka glared at him.

            "I...what....I mean...it....you see..." Mr. Sanada paused for a moment as if he was gathering his strength, "It says right here on her application; Mother: American, Father: Japanese." Mr. Sanada flinched as Miss. Tanaka pushed her chair back causing it to crash to the floor.

            "Miss. Tanaka, I’m not entirely sure what you thought, but last I checked, being of mixed birth was not a valid reason to accuse students of lying nor is it a basis for denial of entrance into this school. I would like to see you in my office tomorrow morning with a full explanation of your actions." The principle then turned to the nearest student who was standing in the door watching, "Would you be kind enough to go to the office and tell my secretary that I will be finishing the interviews with Mr. Sanada and if she would please call my wife and tell her I'll be a little late tonight." He then turned to the three of us, "I am terribly sorry for the behavior of one of our staff members. I hope you can forgive us and allow your daughter to attend the school in the fall, of course as long as she passes the exam, but I think she should have no problem with that." 

            "Thank you. That is very nice of you. But I am now concerned about the rest of your staff."

            "I assure you Mrs. Sakamoto, that the rest of our staff are outstanding individuals," He then leaned in a little bit and whispered, "Miss Tanaka’s been causing me trouble ever since I’ve been at this school. Maybe this time I have reason enough to get rid of her, thank you." As he moved away mother smiled and seemed to return to her Japanese self.

            "Then, assuming Yoshie does pass the exam, I would be happy to have her attend a school run by such an exemplary man as yourself." Mother bowed politely to the principle and then headed out of the room.

            "Mrs. Sakamoto!" The principle called out just as we reached the door, "I do hope that more of our parents are as caring about their children as you are." The principle then bowed and we bowed back and left.

            Nobody said anything as we walked to the car. Silently we got in and I drove out of the school. I drove toward Uncle's new house where we had left Dad, and it wasn't until we were a block away did anyone speak.

            "Mom, are you on crack or something? Why did you just do that?"

            "First off, Yoshie, you are NEVER to joke about stuff like that. I knew too many people in my hometown that got in trouble with that and ended up dead or in jail. It's nothing to joke about."

            "You know people who do drugs!? But, you're so... I don't know."

            "I said I knew. People I went to school with and such. I was never friends with them. Luckily my friends all went to college and got jobs."

            "Okay, so what's second?"

            "Second?"

            "Yeah, as to what happened today!" Yoshie pulled herself forward and leaned over the front seat.

            "That. God, my heart was about to jump out of my chest. I must say I can’t believe I did it either. But let's just say that someone very important gave me some very good advice today," Mother glanced over at me as she said that and I smiled a little.

            "What advice did they give you?"

            "The same thing I've been telling you, Yo-chan!" I said as I pulled into the drive to the house, "Just be yourself, no matter what other's may think of you, or how you want other's to think of you." 

            "That sounds so cliché, Kazuo. What did you do, get it out of a movie or something?” I stopped the car and looked over at Mother laughing. For a moment it seemed that everything was fixed, that all my worries had disappeared. But, they hadn’t.

            “Oh! I need to tell Dad! And Michiko, Sanae, and Sachiko!” Yoshie exclaimed as she jumped out of the car, cell phone already in hand, and headed into the house. Mother had put her hair back up into a pony tale and was about to open the door.

            “You realize that nothing has changed, don’t you?” I asked looking straight ahead at the fence that divided the back yard from the parking space.

            “I know, you still despise me. But now I know why.” Mother turned toward me and smiled, “Now I have to earn your love and trust back. It’ll probably take a long time. And I will probably mess up a few times on the way, but I will try.” She got out of the car and I followed. We looked at each other over the top of the car for a moment. “I’m happy with that. But right now. I’m sorry, I have something else I have to take care of.” Mother looked up at the house in front of us. “You may not like it, but ‘he’ is as part of my life as you are, and before I can start to earn your trust back, I’ve got to get his first.”