okaerinasai / itterasshai

The boy has returned. A full college-year older. The dog was ecstatic ... for about two minutes. Then, he plopped down on the living room rug, chin on the floor, eyes looking upward like a God-fearing apostle in a Renaissance painting, imploring, where art my dog treats? and looking very bored. The boy had a similar rush of excitement when he came home that seemed to wear off rather quickly and was replaced by happy boredom. He spent most of his days sitting in front of a screen of some sort, which seems like it would be boring, but he seemed to be both excited and happy, content to interact with whomever was pinging him while he made music or played that game where a small circle eats smaller circles (which he explained to me in great detail). In spite of this default setting for indoor activities, both the boy and the dog seemed happiest when outside of the house, running, at least for a little while, which made my daily to-do list a bit shorter: When you come downstairs, could you walk the dog, please?

After two weeks of allowing our son to decompress, we went to a picnic where he was asked how long he'd been home. His father replied, "Hasn't it been about a week?" while our son answered, "Feels like it's been about a month."
 

Well, that pretty much sums it up. It's rather unfair that time speeds up when you are older, and have less of it, while those who are still young feel like time is just dragging on and on and on, with WiFi and everything just so slooooowwwwwww. As much as I'd like to tell my son -- Hey! Slow is good! Appreciate your youthful young years, you young whippersnapper! -- I'm sure it won't mean a lot to him right now. (Okay, okay, I probably will tell him, anyways, since I'm prone to talking whether or not anybody is listening.)

Then, just like that -- after two blissful weeks at home, where snack foods are plentiful and laundry facilities are free, he is off to his next adventure. We dropped him off at the airport this morning for Japan, confident that he'll be fine, but worrying about him, anyway. We said our good-byes and waited outside the ropes, watching him go through the security checkpoint, struggling to see him though the glare-streaked glass wall. He glanced back at us with an incredulous little smile that said, why are you still here you know i will be fine you should just go home dad is coughing please go home, but he still indulged us with a final wave good-bye as he emerged on the other side of the scanning machine and left the security area. Even though he'll be home next month, I still found myself tearing up as my husband gave me a hug and our son disappeared from view. I suppose all the comings and goings will get to be the new normal soon. But I'm not quite there yet.

appreciating diversity

I've lived in this little town of Piedmont since the turn of the century. Just saying that makes me sound old, and I guess I'm mature enough to realize that yes, I am old. To clarify, the century I am talking about started in the year 2000, so I'm old, but not that old. With one child out of the nest, I took on a few new volunteer positions this year, and one of those is with the Piedmont Appreciating Diversity Committee (PADC). I've been a MINO for over a decade -- that is, Member in Name Only -- and decided it was time to support the organization in a more active way. It didn't hurt that they had a fundraiser at Yoshi's last year featuring Sheila E.

The PADC's biggest annual event is it's MLK Jr. holiday celebration, which I had always intended on attending, but had never gotten around to it. This year, I went partly out of a sense of duty, but also because of a desire to see the Oaktown Jazz Ensemble and to support the four Asian American women speakers in the program. I didn't realize that I was about to see a sliver of Piedmont that I hadn't seen before.

I heard a woman speak today about her memories as a child, when she lived in El Paso, Texas, and could not use a drinking fountain unless it was labeled "COLORED." She spoke of her father, a veteran of two wars, wearing his uniform when he took his family to ride on a train to California -- and being permitted to ride only in the "colored" car. Her family moved to the Bay Area when her father was stationed in Monterey, California, and her mother wanted to live in San Leandro, but was convinced that this wasn't possible because people would not sell houses to blacks in San Leandro. She recalled her father telling her mother -- Don't worry, I'll wear my uniform, and we will be able to buy a house in San Leandro -- and how her father was wrong.

The woman then spoke of the pride she felt now, many years later, at a time when she, an African American woman, represents the district where San Leandro is located, as the Representative in the United States Congress.

Representative Barbara Lee lauded "the heroes and she-roes who came before me, who marched and fought for equality, without whom I would not be the 100th African American elected to the United States Congress" -- as she closed her remarks, shortly before she left for her flight back to Washington, DC. It was an honor to hear her speak, and to know that she took the time out of her schedule to address this intimate gathering of community members.

It was a moving and inspiring event. In addition to Rep. Lee addressing the gathering, there was also Mayor Margaret Fujioka giving a call to action directed at the youth in the audience, a self-reflection on "faith" by high school student Courtney Gao, a spoken word piece on white privilege by high school junior Jenna Stein-Corman, and one of the biggest surprises for me -- Piedmont Police Chief Rikki Goede, who started her speech with references to Ferguson and Brooklyn, and spoke about community policing and acknowledging the existence of issues such as fear on the part of the police that may not be justified, and the need to be critical and improve, to approach the question not as "What's wrong with them?" but as "What's wrong with us?"

Self-assessment, change, tolerance and hope were the common themes of the day -- appropriate for today and everyday. Thank you to the Piedmont Appreciating Diversity Committee for giving our community a place to celebrate and appreciate diversity!