From the "International Council of Unitarians and Universalists"

Dear U*U Friends around the world,

I have just learned of a terrible incident in the United States that touches our UU family. A single gunman went into the Tennessee Valley UU* Congregation in Knoxville, Tennessee and opened fire. The man was not known at the church. Details are still unclear, but it appears that at least one person is dead and several others wounded.

On behalf of the ICUU, I have sent the following message to the Tennessee Valley Congregation, to UUA President Bill Sinkford and UUA Moderator Gini Courter:
Dear Fellow UU's

On behalf of the Executive and all the national groups represented at the International Council of Unitarians and Universalists, I am writing to offer my deepest condolences in the wake of the Tennessee Valley tragedy.

We are shocked an outraged at the violence and violation committed in the sanctity of your church home, a place meant to be a safe haven. More importantly, we are deeply saddened by the loss of life, and the physical and emotional injury this terrible act has brought into your community.

We pray for you and with you in this time of trial. We pray that you will find the strength necessary to survive and rise above this crisis. We hope that your community is able to come together and be the source of strength it has always been for you and that this sad event will help bring you even closer through shared grief and shared healing.

The thoughts of Unitarians and Universalists the world over are with you in this tragic time.

Sincerely,
Rev. Brian J. Kiely
President
International Council of Unitarians and Universalists

Photos by SATOU-san.

"Feet" (or, "On the Edge of 30")

When I was 20 I got a tattoo in Cape Town. The tattoo is a right footprint, also designed to look like the shape of the African continent. While living in South Africa I spent a lot of alone time on the beach, just watching my footprints melt into the sand. I thought about my place in the world: a priveledged American, a white person, a person of incredible relative wealth, a victim of violence, a student, a developing leader, a spiritual being, a woman learning to choose, a daughter, a writer, a singer, a teacher, a lover, a friend. Walking forward.

For most of my twenties, I couldn't feel my feet. Literally. Sometimes it was just my feet, but sometimes the lack of sensation went all the way up to my waist. It wasn't a problem, really, and only something that I noticed during massage or other body work. My massage therapist (best friend) and my acupuncturists were usually more concerned about it than I. Perhaps the twice-monthly acupuncture helped. Got the 'juice', the 'chi', moving.


And then, a couple years ago, Nick and I decided to be in committed relationship. We immediately knew it was "it", the thing, fer seriousness. ;) Yet we decided we needed more adventure in life and wanted to see more of the world; we moved to Japan for a year. We saw a bit of Asia and a lot of ourselves. And now we're moving "back". Next week we leave here, via Taipei and Omaha, to move to Minnesota. We imagine we will stay in Minnesota to build a home. Put down roots. Dig our feet in. You know, settle. I'm not really sure what that will feel like because I've never felt settled before. Even in my relatively stable childhood in Omaha, or my eight years in Portland, I was always ready to go.



And here's the interesting part: I can feel my feet! Of course my left foot still hurts from the injury in January. But I can also feel my right foot! The last few months of bodywork (Japanese acupuncture and shiatsu) have been enlightening, whole-body experiences. So I wonder what this increased sensation is all about? Is it all the walking and bike riding and physical rehab? Is it the acupuncture?

Or is that I am starting to sprout roots down there? Here comes 30...

Indigenous Ainu in Hokkaido (and an Onsen)

One of my goals in traveling around Hokkaido was to learn as much as I could about the indigenous people. We've visited several Ainu museums in Asahikawa, Niikappu, Sapporo, and now Akan. Perhaps that's my intention wherever I go, so as to be respectful to the history of those here. In some ways Japan is similar to the US, particularly in relation to the native indigenous population.

Last month was an interesting Ainu awareness event. Designed to coincide with the G8 Summit, many Ainu people, local Japanese, foreign residents, and even some Native Americans joined in a Walk across Ainu Mosir (Hokkaido)

This past weekend Nick and I and some friends visited Lake Akan on the eastern side of Hokkaido. There is an "Ainu Village" built for the millions of tourist who visit this lake each year. Lots of trinkets, hand-carved wooden gifts, and crap. Nick bought a cool t-shirt. We took some shots of the Ainu-ish buildings...




And then I discovered something truly remarkable. Among the many souvenir spots was the simple, jumbled shop of a truly talented artist, Masamitsu TAKIGUCHI. I was struck by the beauty of his carved statues. Upon entering his shop I met him and two of his friends, who were conversing in sign language. They were immediately friendly and we spoke mostly in gestures and smiles. It felt freer to be relieved of my language barrier. He did lipread so I was able to communicate the essential information in Japanese (my home country, my current job, my town in Hokkaido). He is a kind man with absolutely beautiful sculptures.






And then, incredibly, we went to THE MOST BEAUTIFUL ONSEN IN JAPAN, at Hotel Tsuga. I think it's officially listed as #5 in the country, but... wow. Most of my friends know how I love spas, spa products, and long showers. Onsen in Japan are like a fabulous combination of all three. The onsen was in this awesome luxury hotel. Tellingly, the incredible hotel lobby was decorated with huge sculptures by Takiguichi-san. And the onsen was just amazing, looking out over beautiful Akan lake. The dressing room had free massage chairs! And the onsen had an indoor cave, several hot and cold pools, two different massage pools (with special seats where you can relax while the jets work into your back muscles), a wooden pool inside of a giant hallowed-out California spruce tree, and of course the outdoor rock rotembero. Oh I love onens.

And I heart good art and learning about indigenous peoples. (What a conclusion!?!?)

Let's "Make a Forest"

In February we recorded a song which was chosen as the official song of the G8 Summit in Hokkaido at Lake Toya.


We performed the song several times this spring around Hokkaido, ending with our final performance at a concert on July 5 in Furano.
Backstage during the last concert, the perky female MC asked if I understood Japanese and when I said I have a little we chatted a bit. When she introduced me onstage I entered and stood near the mic, ready to sing. But before we could begin the music she wanted to ask me some questions, which I had to answer impromptu in front of the audience. Luckily my friend/colleague Inugami was there to allow me to answer in English with his translation. (Something about that slightly nerve-wrecking experience reminded me of the judges' questions onstage during the Miss Omaha Pageant when I was eighteen. Funny.)
Another surprise was in store for me, however. At the end of the concert I was unexpectedly asked to join the others in singing "Make a Forest" in Japanese. Oops. I tried to keep my distance from the microphone, for the benefit of the audience, but in the middle of the song Ms. Perky McHelper kindly offered me my own mic, to be sure that all could hear my mangled nihongo skills.


You can see the video of our final show here. (It's my first video I've posted on YouTube, so I'm feeling proud of my techie-prowess and simultaneously nervous for the publicity.)

A New Truth Commission

Please check out this article by Nicholas D. Kristof in the New York Times. An excerpt:


"“There is no longer any doubt as to whether the current administration has committed war crimes,” Antonio Taguba, the retired major general who investigated abuses in Iraq, declares in a powerful new report on American torture from Physicians for Human Rights. “The only question that remains to be answered is whether those who ordered the use of torture will be held to account.”

The first step of accountability isn’t prosecutions. Rather, we need a national Truth Commission to lead a process of soul searching and national cleansing.

That was what South Africa did after apartheid, with its Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and it is what the United States did with the Kerner Commission on race and the 1980s commission that examined the internment of Japanese-Americans during World War II.

Today, we need a similar Truth Commission, with subpoena power, to investigate the abuses in the aftermath of 9/11."


And I add, perhaps then, the USA will put Bush and Cheney in prison where they belong (with no pensions).

Peace One Day

Check out this amazing website, campaigning for International Peace Day on September 21.

Freedom in Japan

Some people travel to experience a new form of freedom they might not have in their native lands. Many travel in order to break out from the ordinary, learn something more about themselves, and make comparisons to their home. Please read the following article about some Japanese citizens on a trip to Italy.

Teachers in Japan are certainly held to extremely high standards as public figures. And generally, I see that as a good thing. But this story makes me sad... and sit up a little taller, in fear. On a daily basis I notice the relative lack of freedom that this society allows. Not just freedom of action, but also freedom of thought. Yet I am not held by the same expectations because I am a foreigner (the Japanese word is がい人, outside person). And I am leaving.

Americaland

"The American Dream offers a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement." 1931, James Truslow Adams

What does it mean, to me, to be from the United States of America? What does it mean, to others, to meet a woman from America? How do people react to me, knowing my nationality? What do they assume about me? What do I wish they understood, and what do I wish we could heal? What parts of my "american-ness" are my points of pride, and for what do I feel ashamed?

The following is a disorganized list of thoughts about the US in the world. Possible future essay topics.

Freedom of thought and action: In the US we are privileged to be able to think what we want, AND to to express our thoughts through letters to our senators, employment unions, personal fashion sense, creative art... In my travels through Eastern Europe I learned that many people there have independent thoughts but it is too dangerous to express their political thoughts publicly. This problem directly affects public life, even years after the fall of communism: in the Czech Republic no one wants to join clubs or even share their thoughts with friends, for fear their 'friends' might be spies.

Independent Thought: In Japan, when I ask the students a simple question like "what is your favorite color?" they turn to one another to confer before answering. The students do not understand the concept of voting. Virtually all teachers belong to the same ineffective teacher`s union. When a child is singled out and bullied, s/he tends to believe his peers` assesment and never defends himself. In America, if one child is bullied or isolated s/he usually aligns himself with another social group and tries to ignore the pressures of the agressors. This characteristic of Japanese culture has a positive side: harmony and group cohesion.

Wealth and sharing: When I explain my nationality to students (in a self-introduction lesson I have given about 50 times), they become wide-eyed and wildly curious. The United States is exhorbatantly wealthy in finances and natural resources. Even modest suburban houses are extraordinary compared to homes in developed nations like Australia and Japan.

Violence and war: News-reading adults here, both gaijins and Japanese nationals, are deeply concerned about America's recent warmongering. The US is also famous for its tradition of gun-wielding, robbery and frequent murders. Now that I've been out of it for a year, living in a very safe country, I see the violence in America simply appalling. It really sucks to live in constant awareness/fear and I am not looking forward to it. Private gun ownership seems a completely asinine tradition that only feeds fear.

Charity: The word doesn't even translate into Japanese. When speaking about "volunteerism", Japanese use the English word because it is such a rare concept here. I am so grateful to from the US, where ordinary citizens meet violence and despair with generous acts of goodwill. Every church, civic group, and family has a charity or two that we support. Even our national budget includes a significant percentage for nation-building, global public health, and economic stimulation of foreign nations.

Privilege, strength, bullying

Diversity and acceptance: In January and February I did a number of lessons specifically about "diversity", a word which interestingly, does not have have a Japanese translation.

Continual revolutions toward justice and equality

Creativity, opportunity, production, efficiency, output

Special Needs: My Transformation

Shame... and Conversion

My experiences in the past year, as an educator and as an injured person, have changed me for the better. In the past decade I became aware of, and ashamed of, my prejudicial attitude toward people with mental handicaps. I experienced fear and discomfort around those who had mental handicaps, partly because they do not act "normally" according to social customs. My reaction to those with physical handicaps was completely different and I joined other Unitarian Universalists in voting/arguing for full accessibility in public spaces. And though I made the same arguments for those with mental disabilities, privately I felt differently. I cannot justify WHY I felt this way, and I knew it was one of my weaknesses as a humanitarian. My private feelings certainly did not align with our core principals of recognizing the "inherent worth and dignity of all people". Two things helped me transform.

First, it was being an educator in the public school system of Japan, where special needs students are integrated into the school. Considering Japanese culture's aversion to anything "different", the practice of full integration is surprisingly humanitarian. Every school has several hired teachers whose job is to teach the handicapped students. In classes where the students are intellectually capable of keeping up with other students, they join while the special ed teacher assists. In classes where the students are not able to keep up, they have separate classes which are taught by the (kind, flexible) special ed teachers. In club activities and school functions, special needs students are totally included. Only one school in my town (out of 20) has an elevator. But where there aren't elevators, the school has some sort of machine that can roll the student up the stairs in a wheelchair. Also surprising, I notice that most fully-able students act inclusively and kindly toward differently-abled students. My observation of this public educational arrangement offered me perhaps my first experiences with differently-abled students; the private schools I attended as a child were not integrated.

Second, I was injured in January. I needed to use a wheelchair and crutches to get around. I relied upon elevators, fully accessible toilets (both very rare here!) and my partner. At work I felt seriously discriminated against. Yet I was lucky to have one healthy leg and one healthy arm to lean upon when teaching, squat with over Japanese toilets, hop through the snow, balance upon when changing from indoor to outdoor shoes... I will never forget the frustrations of negotiating Sapporo's icy streets and complex train system in my wheelchair. Elevators were remotely located and rare. Frequently I needed to get up and hop. People bumped into me or didn't notice me because, sitting, I was so much shorter than them. Or they instinctively looked at my legs to see why I was in a chair. And once, in the underground hallways around the JR, I noticed another person in a motorized wheelchair. She looked as if she might have severe cerebral palsy because she appeared to have little motor function and used her mouth to operate her chair. But in the moment as we passed one another, she looked straight into my eyes and nodded her head. Eye contact is rare in Japanese society, and this bow was one of the most meaningful gestures I have ever experienced. She recognized my challenge and included me in her circle, although it was clear that my need for the chair would be temporary. It was an incredible gift.


In the months that followed, I visited my local hospital at least once a week for X-rays, MRI, CAT scan, wound dressing, and physical rehabilitation. At rehab I saw several of my special-needs students who were receiving physical therapy. They were always excited to see me there (if the cool foreign teacher gets rehab, maybe I'm not so weird!) and we had a special connection whenever I visited their schools. But the biggest transformation was mine: I had an opportunity to watch these children laugh and play with their PT doctors, who encouraged and massaged the students in fun and confidence-boosting environment. And oh! what joy and love those children are capable of giving! Watching the PT's and supportive parents of these children deeply touched me. They gave love and joy selflessly. And the parents of these special needs did not act apologetic or ashamed; they appeared to love tirelessly and fiercely. In a rigid society which demands assimilation, these children and parents found a space to celebrate their differences. Maybe these children will not be fully assimilated or appreciated in mainstream Japanese society. Maybe they won't ever learn English. But maybe my presence in that PT room offered them "internationalization". And certainly they are worthy of dignity and respect. They have other unique skills: these children offer love and acceptance and laughter as gifts to those they meet. I am so grateful for their joy, which has aided in the expansion of my soul.

Watching Time

A butterfly comes and stays on a leaf —
a leaf much warmed by the sun —
and shuts his wings.
In a minute he opens them, shuts them again,
half wheels round, and by and by —
just when he chooses and not before — floats away.
The flowers open, and remain open for hours, to the sun.
Hastlessness is the only word one can make up to describe it;
there is much rest, but no haste.
Each moment is so full of life
that it seems so long
and so sufficient in itself.

–Richard Jeffries