Shattered
...written on 9.17.01, @ 12:59 a.m.
Tales of Kim's Life in Japan
Sun September 16, 2001
I wrote this in my last entry, two days before the events of Sept 11, 2001:
"Today I asked myself if I knew what it really was all about. I've never been involved in a war. In my generation and those after, there has not been a foreign invasion on American soil. I've never had to dodge rocks or rockets, go running for cover, or drag wounded or dying friends and family to safety. "
I know how profound the psychological and spiritual shaking is from where I sit, I can’t imagine the inner and outer turmoil of the millions of others with a ringside seat.
Wednesday afternoon I went into work. My classes had been cancelled for the evening due to a scheduling error. I was glad of this at the time because I felt devastated. Ivan and I discussed the events in low voices for we had no energy to project sound and were afraid of breaking the fragile outside shells of ourselves because we felt so empty.
Our Japanese co-workers said nothing to us and Ivan lamented the fact that they were just going about their business as if it were a normal day and that we were expected to do so as well. Later that afternoon, John and I saw Shacho, the company president and he asked us if our friends and family were safe. John said ‘yes’ and I gave a choked ‘no’ as a reply. For me, everyone in those buildings and planes was my family. Shacho gave me a very meaningful and sorrowful look and went back to his office.
I sat in the Overseas Division office with my hands on my face, eyes closed and tears splashing on my desk. Toyo asked me if I was alright. I didn’t reply. I couldn’t reply. Later I went out to the copy machine and two of the secretaries asked me if I was ok. Averting my swollen red eyes, I just nodded and went back to my desk.
Ivan had to go teach that night and I told him I didn’t know how he could do it and that I wished him strength and success as he went out the door. I had sequestered John off in a room for three hours to study the hiragana alphabet because I didn’t feel like I could give him a regular training session, so I was alone in the office with Fred and Toyo. Later, Mikki came in and said that they needed a teacher for a class because of another scheduling error and Toyo and Fred both said that they couldn’t do it because they were teaching elsewhere that night. Mikki left to inform the powers that be. I asked Fred what class it was and he said it was a Wonder English class for elementary students. I wiped a tissue across my face, got up and went into the main office and volunteered for the job.
For the next hour and ten minutes, the only thing that betrayed my mood was the black and gold ribbon on my shirt. The kids were so open and willing that it felt good to forget for a while and be able to smile and joke about hamburgers, colas, and "whaddya like to eat?" I needed their positive energy. After the class, back in the main office, Mr. Sugimoto, the vice president of the company, ran over to me and thanked me for my effort. I grabbed John and we went off to have a business dinner. Ivan called me during his break to say that he just needed to hear another American’s voice and that his class experience that night was helping him to heal as well. He related a conversation that he had with a Japanese teacher about the ribbon he was wearing. He told her what it meant, and he said she looked at him, cocked her head and said "I think you’re joking." Ivan said he turned away and walked off.
The next day we had our weekly employee meeting. There are about 100 employees at our company. It was going to be a short meeting because Shacho wasn’t there to wrap things up. Just as Cato-san asked everyone to stand and be dismissed I told H I had something to say. H told Cato-san this. I slowly walked to the front of the room, turned and bowed to everyone. They were all smiling until they heard my quivering voice say the following:
"The past two days have been very difficult for the American teachers. We are worried about our family and friends, our country and the world. We are wearing these ribbons because we are sad about what has happened and we have hope that America will prevail. I have written a haiku that I would like to share with you . . .
Birds fly through the trees
Many petals fall to earth
My heart’s sad carpet . . ."
At several points before the haiku I had to stop to regain my composure. I saw concern and worry in many faces. They had to know that we were affected. They had to know how we felt being thousands of miles away from our own people. Up to then only one person had asked or spoken to us about it and Shacho wasn’t there or else he would have made a special mention.
I finished the haiku, bowed and thanked everyone for their concern and patience. When I got back to my chair, I gave H the haiku so he could translate it. The following dismissal was somber, and before I could get to the door, Hiroyuki, the high school teacher that I worked so closely with on the listening course, had my hand in his and was telling me how sorry he was. I smiled and told him that his sympathy meant a lot to me. Okumura-san(see A Death) came into the Overseas office later and expressed his sorrow to us as well. The next day, H said that many teachers told him they were moved by my presentation.
The other night, our black and gold ribbons still in place, we went out to have dinner at Shirokiya. As we were checking out, one of the waiters asked me in Japanese if I was American. I said yes. He then said three words in English: "Terror . . .shocking . . . sorry." Those three heartfelt words felt like an embrace and I warmly thanked him for his kindness.
This isn’t the first or the last disaster to happen in the world. Be it man-made or mother nature, people need to know we care. Maybe we don’t stop work or observe a three day period of mourning for earthquake, flood or bombing victims in other countries, but please, let us be aware of those people living among us who might be more directly affected and offer to them our own three or more words of condolences.
America, I'm sorry I'm not there. However, I shall endeavor to represent our shock, outrage and hope for recovery to the people in Japan. My deepest sympathy goes out to the victims, their friends and families and to us all as we pick up the pieces to forge new lives and new faith.