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WORST WEEK OF MY YEAR?

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Our driveway - all marked off... Our driveway - all marked off so water leak can be fixed! Which is worse?
Getting Covid for a week or having no water for a week?
The girls are at SeaTac, on their way to Santa Ana Airport to be in Orange County for my grandson Joey and his fiance Alex's wedding tomorrow. 
 
Sunday, I'm also missing out on a Disney Land treat.  I'm having no trouble feeling sorry for myself because we also don't have any running water, with a leak that isn't going to be fixed until Monday. 
 
I'm so much in the habit of not staying a "victim" and look at the bright side of life. I wonder if this can give me a little practice in livening up some negativity and do a little cursing???  That way, when things get back to normal, it will even feel better.
 
I never learned to swear, but it's totally not fair that I can't wear my expensive outfit, looking at me from my closet. I rarely dress so fancy these days, but maybe I'll force myself with some of the public events coming up in my life!!
 
Bailling water to use the Bathroom! Hate to eat and drink because...???
 
Damm - I can't even take a hot bath!!

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INTERGENERATIONAL & INTERRACIAL COMMUNICATION

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INTERGENERATIONAL & IN...
Just now, my daughter came to my bedroom doorway and stated, “Mom, Kirin and I just had a discussion about how you act when some of our friends come over. Kirin says, ’You barely say hello and seem mad when Julie comes over.’”
 

Also, my daughter does not have a great opinion of one of my friends because the friend seems so unfriendly. When this friend and I are just the two of us, she is very open and sharing. We are very Japanese American 1950s-conservative about spending and at times act cheap and I'm thinking, “Japanese heritage individuals in America practiced thinking about saving pennies in every aspect of our lives because most everyone focussed on getting  ahead financially.”
 

I’m now thinking, “This is no longer my house. I want the girls to take over and I don’t want to interfere in their lives.” I remember visiting relatives who have their parents living with them. Like those elders, I’m acting like ‘wall paper’ so as to let the next generation take over. Hmmm, this is a good example of miscommunication. That’s what’s interesting about life and our American “melting pot society”.
 

I have been having a debate in my mind about another Japanese friend who acts more elderly so she can get more help. At least, that is how I read her at times. My debate is that maybe she knows better than me how to be more humble, graceful and respected as an elder? And it is also important that her sons feel value for themselves in helping her.
 

Particularly, if they are of Asian heritage and male, I’m put in the front seat of the car. Other times, I’m grandma and in the back seat. I work to not create waves of discomfort. It feels like I’m doing the right things and going with the flow. I’m not one to do a lot of talking and being expressive of what I think. Maybe, I should learn to be more expressive?
 

I think before I say much, and I’ve always been afraid of public speaking. My daughters often say, “Spit it out Mom!” Recently, I’ve had more practice being in front of audiences. I’m listening to celebrities who seemingly are not afraid to take pauses when being recorded.  And having "senior moments" is not all that bad. What helps me the most is to realize my fears are when I worry about myself and “how I look”.  I’m learning to listen and feel what the audiences want to hear.
 

It’s all practice for a “life of learning”, accepting misunderstandings and to keep trying.
 

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LIFETIME ACHIEVMENT AWARD FROM WASHINGTON STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY

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Interviewing Mr. Nitta, from Hi... Interviewing Mr. Nitta, from Hiroshima, in the 1970s.
After 1924 Asian Exclusion Act, he couldn't come to USA. So, he went first to Peru, commandeered a fishing boat into Mexico with friends and sneaked into California's Imperial Valley, making his way to the Pacific Northwest.
It’s a thrilling honor to be nominated by the Washington State Historical Society for the award to be given May 4th at the Washington History Museum in Tacoma.
 
Working on the history of the Japanese experience in the Pacific Northwest since 1970s and facilitating the OMOIDE writing program the last 30 years are likely the basis of my receiving the award.
 
Over 50 years ago, I got a phone call from Min Masuda, professor of Psychiatry at the University of Washington, asking me, “Would you be willing to take a part time job at the UW Suzzallo Library Archives, documenting the Japanese Experience in the Pacific Northwest?” Min had collaborated with Frank Miyamoto of the Social Work department and Rich Berner, creator of the library archives, to get a grant and likely heard from my neighbor Mariko Hayashi that I spoke some Japanese. By 1970, very few of us young people--I was a Sansei (third generation Japanese)--spoke the language.
 
The offer took me by surprise. My education was in the field of nursing with math and science. I had gotten Honors at Entrance recognition for math with Lewis and Clark College, and had not once thought about history. I immediately answered, “No” and hung up. I had two preschool girls and no interest in a job outside of home.
 
I laughed about it as I explained to my husband, Sam, what had just happened. He must have thought about it. I had no idea about his interest in history. The next day or two, Sam talked me into calling Min back and accepting the job.
 
Nursing was the only way I could afford to get a college education because hospitals paid us students to work 30 hours a week as we learned. I never quit what I start, so I had become an RN, but I never liked carrying out military type “orders” by physicians. Therefore, I went on to get a Master in Psychosocial Nursing at the UW. I learned to love psychology and philosophy. 
 
Grant funding ran out, but I remained on a Min Masuda Archival committee for 20 years. Meanwhile, my girls left home and I realized we could create some of our own documentation of the Japanese Experience by writing stories. We also had no Japanese Historical Society, so I helped organize one around 1990. Starting with weekly story sharing in my kitchen in 1991, we published OMOIDE I in 1993. 
 
It took a lot of effort to demonstrate the financial responsibility of us younger generations with Japanese heritage, but the Nikkei Heritage Association was incorporated in 2003 and eventually incorporated with the Japanese Community Service/Japanese Language School in becoming the 2024 Japanese Cultural and Community Center of Washington. At age 85, I’m still part of the board of directors.
 
Today, in 2024, we have a KIP TOKUDA MEMORIAL grant to begin gathering stories for OMOIDE VII. With our unique perspective on the enduring effects of Executive Order 9066 and times of fear and uncertainty since the early 1900s, we seek stories of compassion, resilience and human connections. Please help us find and share stories to cultivate empathy, understanding and beyond - SPREADING RIPPLES OF COMPASSION & GENEROSITY!
 
 
 

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MY FATHER - MY NEW HERO

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His Van had a 4-note horn. H... His Van had a 4-note horn. He played a tune as he drove into his Japanese farmer/customer's driveways. He also played his violin, musical saw and sang in the church choir!
 
It was 10pm. Dad had just come home from his grocery delivery route and was having a late dinner. I sat at the kitchen table to talk. I told him about the ballroom dance lessons that were being started at the Japanese Community Center that next week for us teenagers. Dancing and going to movies was frowned upon by Ontario Baptist Church where we were members. I asked him anyway, “Can I go take the lessons?” 
 
Dad answered, “NO!” We had some discussion; but cutting it short, he headed  down to the cellar to gather Japanese canned food items to replace the empty shelves in his delivery van.
 
Following him out the kitchen door, I  shouted into the cellar stairway, “I hate you!”.
 
Today, I choose this 1950’s Dad story to pass on to future generations; how I too listened to society’s values. Even some of the Japanese community made fun of Dad because he didn’t smoke, didn’t work on Sundays to get ahead and faithfully tithed to his church when he was so poor. The larger caucasian community was making life difficult for Japanese with prejudice and name calling. 
 
Earlier in 1937, there were less than 100 Japanese in that Eastern Oregon area. Dad was one of the few Nisei who spoke fluent English when our family “started over” with row-crop farming in that Eastern Oregon/Western Idaho community along the Snake River. This was after losing their dairy business here in Western Washington, which once supplied as much as 1/2 of Seattle’s milk supply,  because of discrimination.
 
With WWII Executive Order 9066, we too were considered for incarceration - 400 miles inland from the West Coast. Mayor Elmo Smith of Ontario, Oregon, stood up for us and said, “If the government needs to move those with Japanese heritage for USA security, they have to have a place to go and are welcome to Ontario.”  People like my Dad had proven our loyalty. Other small towns in the area continued to have ‘NO JAP” signs all over. 
 
Aunt Ethel remembered Dad helping build and teaching classes at the Japanese Community Center in Ontario. He took unsold groceries to the poor. I watched him have coffee with those who called him “JAP” and become friends. We were invited to dinners with caucasian neighbors all my growing up years. He was a self-made social worker and worked at integration.
 
My maternal grandpa helped build Buddhist Churches, here in Seattle area and later the Ontario Buddhist Church, so Buddhist and Japanese traditions were a strong part of our family activities. Dad arranged all the Family/Buddhist services and legal matters when Grandpa’s younger brother died in a car accident in 1947.
 
Moving back to Seattle area in 1964, Dad rarely missed Sunday morning/night church services, Wednesday prayer meetings and singing in the choir for himself.  He changed churches several times, to be with more fundamental Caucasian  parishioners.  But he never, ONCE, criticized me for no longer going to church. He exemplified religious freedom.
 
Even when the Seattle Mariners were doing poorly,  he took the bus to the old King Dome regularly.  He was loyal.  
 
I still pray as I learned growing up, but my definition of "God" has added dimensions as I live life and keep learning.
 
Thanks DAD for adjusted memories and I know you appreciated being American and the freedom to worship and develop relationships you enjoyed!

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TOLERANCE FOR PAIN

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SAM WAS ALWAYS FIXING THI... SAM WAS ALWAYS FIXING THINGS TO THE END OF HIS LIFE
TO THE LAST DAYS OF 2017!
Listening to Morgan Housel who wrote THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MONEY. He says too many of us are wired for “status” and not “happiness” and basically programed for attracting a spouse. Morgan says, “Contentment is not happiness.”  And goes on to say, "Responsibility and tolerance for pain is key for getting ahead financially.” 
 

In my life, I married Sam, and he was a total example of Morgan’s wisdom. Sam particularly demonstrated this in excelling in football when he was awarded a Rotary commendation by the Ontario, Oregon, high school football team. Sam played for Weiser, Idaho, high school as a sophomore 1949. His coach and lifelong favorite mentor, took him to the Rotary Club meeting in Ontario to receive the award of:  Being named the most formidable defensive opponent in the high school football league that year.
 
At Nampa, ID, high school, Sam's trophy for a record in high hurdles was in their trophy case for several years after he graduated.
 

In 58 years at his Seattle Medical Dental practice as a Dental Technician, Sam never missed a day of work. Also, we found a grade school report card where the teacher commends his for never missing a day of school.
 

Sam often repeated his goal to at least live longer than his dad, who died in 1983 at the age of 83. Sam was diagnosed before age 40 with issues of Diabetes like his dad. He said, “I married you because you are a nurse and can take care of yourself.” In 1969, when he was installing an air-condition outlet in his 423 Medical Dental Building office he said, “I felt so bad, I felt like jumping out the window.” 
 

Researching and finding good nutrition was the answer, Sam talked me into developing our nutrition business GOTO-HEALTH in 1977. Therefore, Sam lived to age 85, gardening until the last month of 2017. He was on no prescribed medication until the last month of his life. He lived and worked until the end like he planned.
 

I am benefitting from Sam’s wisdom, life values and financial security. Finally, by the year 2000 (forty years of marriage), we were able to pay all our bills at the end of each month and start saving for medical bills for our old age. This is the heritage we want to pass on!

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Lilly Kodama's Stories of Community Help During Hard Times

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Picture of Setsuko Kitamoto an... Picture of Setsuko Kitamoto and Felix Narte
by John de Graaf for 1984 television (KCTS)
Lilly is now 90-yrs-old and lives in the family home again, on Bainbridge Island, where her grandfather created his 20-acres farm and was raising strawberries before WWII. Lilly says, "Felix Narte was his main farm hand. Grandpa and Grandma went back to Japan and left the farm to my father, Frank Kitamoto and my mother, Setsuko Nishinaka Kitamoto."  
 

Lilly further explains, “Felix used to baby-sit us and was part of our family. Because Felix took care of the farm and helped us so much, my father gave him an acre, when we got back home after our incarceration. He went back to the Philippines to marry and built his house next door. Now, Felix Jr. lives next door and is still part of our family. 
 

On March 30th 1942, we were the first group, with as little as 1/16 Japanese heritage, incarcerated when President Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066. I was 7-yrs-old, my sister Frances was 5-yrs-old, my brother Frank Jr was 2-yrs-old and Jane was a baby. We were taken directly to Manzanar in California. but later we were able to move to Minidoka in Idaho where our friends from Seattle were incarcerated. Felix drove all the way from Bainbridge Island to Camp Minidoka with our electric washing machine because he knew my mother needed it for washing diapers.”
 
Lilly also explained how her father was working for FRIEDLANDER JEWERY STORE in Seattle, “Mr Friedland was the one who called us to tell us the Government officials had taken our father straight to prison, without his even being able to come home, when WWII started. Later, Mr Friedlander got permission for my Dad to go to Chicago and learn watch repair. 
 

After the war. Mr Friedlander loaned my father money to start his own jewelry store business in the Bush Hotel on Jackson Street in Seattle. Also, the owner of the Bush Hotel paid for the big locked vault for storage of the valuables. Us kids once complained that we never went on vacations. My father explained, ‘As long as I owe Mr. Friedlander money, we can’t do such a thing until I pay him back.’”

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OMOIDE AT THE SEATTLE REP THEATER

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WE ALL TELL STORIES; STORI... WE ALL TELL STORIES; STORIES ARE WHO WE ARE
We are again guests of the Seattle Repertory Theater for this evening of sharing stories that connect us all, as well as future generations. We present this evening to inspire each other and bring us together with shared heritage values and for the benefit of our Seattle and Washington community.
 
It turned out to be an incredible evening! One of the highlights was that Granddaughter, verified that she values the stories we are passing on to future generations.
 
My family loved the story of one of Sam and my first dates on Labor Day 1960. It also brings smiles to my face as I write this!

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MERCER ISLAND DRILL TEAM SHOWING LEADERSHIP

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Mercer Island Drill Team is a... Mercer Island Drill Team is a 3a school in Washington State
Their State rating is: first in Kick, Second in Military and Third in Pom
This morning my granddaughter, middle row on the right, showed me their State Rating as a 3a school in Washington State Drill Team competitions. I was excited to congratulate her, but I further asked her, "What do you do 'with personal leadership' to contribute to the success of the team?"
 
She answered, "I'm not a captain or anything like that, so I don't know."
 
I responded, "How about that you get up four days a week at 5am to be at practice?"
 
"But everyone does that and that's just responsibility." 
 
I ask further, "But I want to know the small things you personally do to provide leadership."
 
She thinks about it for a while and answers, "Well, I talk to everyone and make sure they feel included. We all shout out and encourage each other."
 
"I love that answer. I want all of us to be aware of the little things each of us can do to make a team, and spread the example to bigger efforts." I interject.
 
She further explains, "3a means size of school. 4a schools are the bigger schools and they have more to choose from, so they are usually better."
 
These are the kind of stories I feel important to blog and think about how I can encourage such values for a better Seattle, a better Washington State where we live!!!
 

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GENIUS ZONE

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LEARNING TO SEW WAS MOST ... LEARNING TO SEW WAS MOST IMPORTANT IN
THE JAPANESE AMERICAN COMMUNITY AS I WAS GROWING UP!
Today, I’m listening to a Podcast. According to Gay Hendricks, Psychologist/writer, the Genius Zone is that moment one realizes one’s thoughts are dominated by things we can do nothing about. That is the beginning. Moving ahead in the Zone, is when we commit to start concentrating on thoughts followed by actions where we personally have control!
 

Visiting with my sister not long ago, she remembered how proud of me she was when I made a dress for Ruby in high school. I realize that was one of my GENIUS ZONE MOMENTS. In high school I was often self-effacing and assumed I did not have qualities like some of the popular girls. One day at the end of my senior year in high school, I became aware of Ruby. My friends and I sometimes made fun of her because she wore ragged clothes and never talked to anyone. 
 

I heard my father tell someone how poor Ruby’s family was. I had grown up watching my father help a lot of families. He was the FISHMAN, delivering groceries to Japanese farmers in our TREASURE VALLEY community of Eastern Oregon and Western Idaho, divided by the Snake River.
 

Hearing my father, I got excited about an idea where I could do something to help someone. I knew how to sew as I hardly owned anything that I hadn’t personally sewn myself because we were also very poor. I went to Mrs. Patrick our high school girl’s counselor. She was a member of the Baptist Church my family attended, so I knew her. I told her I wanted to do this anonymously so that’s why I was asking her to help me deliver my idea. I needed help figuring out the size of a graduation dress I wanted to sew for Ruby. 
 
I no longer remember any of the details of color, style or what else I had to do. I may even had to pump the Singer Sewing machine with a treadle. For my own clothes, we had to drive to the bigger city of Caldwell or Boise, Idaho, to get the quality and choices of material we wanted. So, I must have asked my mom for help to buy the material and pattern. I slightly remember seeing Ruby with the dress on as we marched into the auditorium to receive our 1956 high school diplomas. 

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FINDING MORE ABOUT WHO I AM

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GO ONTARIO, GO ONTARIO GO O... GO ONTARIO, GO ONTARIO
GO OUT AND MAKE THIS A BETTER WORLD!
 When I was 9-yrs-old, I skipped a grade. Therefore, I was socially immature. Having buck-teeth and wearing pigtails into Jr. High didn’t help. On top of that, I moved into a class at Ontario High School in Eastern Oregon where the Valedictorian, Dr. Theodore Sakano, was the top scholar at University of Oregon and a professor of chemistry at Rose-Hulman Institute in Terre Haute, Indiana, and later at Rockland Community College in New York. I see his SaddleBrooke Lecture sell-out in 2018, about the Japanese incarceration, with a note from former President George Bush.
 
Our Salutatorian, Dr. Calvin Tanabe, MD, was a notable neurosurgeon in Portland, Oregon, and served in Viet Nam in MASH-type-situations. Civically oriented, Cal and his wife Mayho contribute saying, “We thought we could return the most to the community by getting people to think.” Cal & Mayho had arranged a date with Dr. Ben Carson for their Portland Arts & Lecture series, but political backlash forced them to cancel.
 
The President of our class and still a good friend; but living now with dementia in Port Charlotte, Florida, was Loren Cox, He oversaw Asia and Africa with Peace Corp. Loren served as Deputy ED for both the MIT Joint Program and the MIT Center for Energy and Environmental Policy Research. In the 1970s he was a staff member for Representative Al Ullman of the Ways and Means Committee for U.S. House of Representatives, from Malheur County Oregon, where Ontario was the biggest city with 5000 population when I lived there.
 
Lynn Gallagher and I had arranged to meet where our daughters were living near Half Moon Bay, below San Francisco. But Lynn passed in 2017, living in Washington DC. She graduated from Stanford in journalism, but created Telecom/Telematique International, a boutique consulting firm promoting international development of communication in Africa, Central Asia and the Middle East as a consultant with the U.S. Department of Energy. 
 
Captain Ray Dickerson and I were planning to write a book about our prestigious class and Sam was going to do the illustrations. Ray served in Saudi Arabia where he was the director of vehicle services for the Royal Family and was the escort for Colin Powell visits. Ray passed just before Sam in 2017. He was a “life master” in bridge and said, “What have I ever done to deserve such a great life”. 

Our vision for the book was, how we all came together in Ontario, Oregon, from Spain, Mexico, Japan, Canada, all parts USA in the late 1800s with great heritage values. We all learned to work hard on the Eastern Oregon farms.Then we went to all parts of the world again and served. Two Ontario High School students were/is Washington State Senators, Jim Honeyford, who retired last year and Steve Conway.
 
All 117 of our 1956 graduates have created powerful stories. I look back and see myself as self-effacing, mousey and shy, but grateful for the experience of knowing how it feels. I’m still non-competitive but social and persistent with learning the path of love and service for a fulfilling life and legacy.
 
No wonder I got better grades in college than in high school with such a bell curve.

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