History is not indoctrination.
It’s a tree whose trunk, branches, and leaves have weathered and grown.
As a Gosei (fifth-generation) Japanese American, I grew up picking nashi (梨, pear), from a 60-year-old nashi tree at my grandparents’ backyard.
To me, this celebrated custom symbolizes more than enjoying the summer’s harvest. Today, I see it as a replanting of “their roots” in a country that once saw them as the enemy based on the color of their skin.
Where yesterday’s lessons and experiences bloom into today’s events.
In 2021, I wrote and self-published my first poetry anthology nashi: Illustrative Poetry on Japanese Americans. This haiku collection is paired with hand-drawn illustrations from my wife, Una and inquiries exploring Nikkei (Japanese emigrants and their descendants) experiences during/post WWII.
So that tomorrow’s fruit is harvested and cherished.
I’m on a mission to inspire intentional introspection which in turn, I hope, will cultivate community conversations for future generations.
