I have killed a dozen butterflies… Had their powder dust my fingers As I grasped my hand tighter and tighter Afraid to let them fly away
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A Hāfu in Japan
Two passports. Two last names. Two identities. From a very early age, my life has been characterized by how I am half-American and half-Japanese. In elementary school, my mom tried to teach me Japanese by putting me in a “Japanese as a Second Language School (JASL)” on Sundays. Being a child, of course, I was very averse to going to more school on the weekend.
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The Voice Of Our Ancestors
He hears them. They speak to him constantly. No, not in his head. The voices speak to him in the breeze, the creeks, the leaves, the rocks, the soil, and everything all around him. Sometimes, they speak to him through the eyes of the elders of the community. These are voices that never stop for him.
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I Told my Mother About Gurdjieff
I told her about an experience I had, of mystical ideas. She said to me in Yiddish “Ken nisht herren” (Can’t hear it.) She didn’t want to hear about it, and I thought, “Wait a minute, I can’t talk to her about this.” She was not ready to listen.
