“Exploring Various Fields in Interpretation and Translation, and Knowing What Makes You Happiest”
Below is an article I wrote for The Professional Translator, the web magazine of a translation graduate school called Babel. The assigned theme was about aptitudes needed for interpretation and translation.
There are well-known, general characteristics: those who like in-person exchanges and travel might be happier as interpreters, while those who like to spend time choosing the perfect words are likely better as translators. But there are also vast differences depending on the field. These include conference interpretation, court interpretation, interpreting on stage at an event, subtitling, and technical translations. I didn’t realize how different these were until I had the opportunity to explore them. In addition, with my love for reading and writing, I initially thought I would be happier as a translator–but ended up being more of an interpreter, mostly because I’ve enjoyed traveling and meeting experts from various fields. To anyone who is considering a profession in interpretation or translation, I recommend taking on a variety of jobs–only then will you learn what truly makes you happy.
“Changes in the Interpretation Industry During the Coronavirus Era, and Similarities with Translation”
Below is an article I wrote for The Professional Translator, the web magazine of a translation graduate school called Babel. The assigned theme was about the distinction between interpretation and translation. I discuss how with the coronavirus, the interpretation industry is rapidly changing and becoming similar to translation in several ways.
Namely, 1. with fewer interpretation assignments, more interpreters are also working as translators; 2. interpretation assignments are now mostly remote, just like translation; 3. since geography is less important now (except for time difference constraints), interpreters are relying even more on their quality of work, expertise, and networks in order to compete with the rest of the world; and 4. now that events are held online, ways to provide virtual multilingual support are growing beyond simultaneous interpretation and post-production subtitles, further blurring the line between interpretation and translation.
Although it’s unclear what the future will bring, I hope to remain positive about these fascinating changes, and continue to enjoy my work.
“Thoughts on Wording Surrounding the BLM Movement”
Some of the phrases we have been hearing in relation to the BLM movement are difficult to convey in Japanese, and I wanted to really sit down and look into them. Here’s a Japanese blog post that explores some key phrases–what “Black Lives Matter” means, why we ought not to say “All Lives Matter,” how “defund the police” could be interpreted, and the difference between “Black” and “African American”–based on what I thought and learned from friends and other articles.
抗議の次のステップとして、警察を今後どうしていくかということも話し合われています。スローガンとしてdefund the policeという表現が頻繁に使われていますが、このdefundという言葉は、米国で大きな物議を醸しています。英語でもほとんどの人がこれまであまり馴染みがなかった言葉（このブログを書いているワードプレスでも、スペルチェックに引っ掛かります）であるため、各々が異なる解釈を行っているのです。
CNN、アトランティック誌、ヴァイスなどの多くのメディアが、defund the policeが何を意味するのかという分析を行っています。アトランティック誌の記事の見出しは「『Defund the police』という言葉は、defund the policeという意味ではない。ただし、そういう意味の場合もある」（副題：「文字通り解釈すべきなのか？」）です。この言葉がどれほどの混乱を招いているかをよく示していると思います。
主要メディアに加え、オンラインの辞典であるdictionary.comも本件に関する記事を出しています。それによると、defundと言う言葉の定義は、to withdraw financial support from, especially as an instrument of legislative control（法的統制のツールとして、財政支援を止めること）とあります。また、「多くの活動家や研究者、一部の政治家によれば、defund the policeは、『お金の力を使って、これまでの漸進的な変化では達成できなかった制度的改革を行う』と言う意味」だとも書いています。
Black Lives Matterは、黒人が米国の警察に何度も殺害されていることに対する抗議運動として端を発したため、各地における警察の見直しは、大きな進捗だと言えます。黒人の親が子供に必ず警察への対応の仕方を教えなければならず、特に男性の命が危険に晒される状況には、本当に心が痛みます。他方、制度的差別があまりに根深く、社会のあらゆる側面に浸透しているため、目の前の具体的な問題（警察のことのみならず、南北戦争で南軍を率いた人々の像の撤去など）で進捗があっても、より大きな問題はなくなりません。今後論点がずれていったり、象徴的な進歩で大きな目標が見失われたりしないことを願っています。
BlackとAfrican American
Black Lives Matterの中心にあるBlackという言葉。恥ずかしながら、私は先日までこの言葉がAfrican Americanと同じ意味だと思っていました。正直、Black はもともと肌の色から来た言葉なので、自分がyellowと呼ばれたら嫌なように、その言葉自体、黒人でない私は言ってはならないのかと思っていました。また、子供の頃、正しい表現はAfrican Americanだと習った覚えがあったため、そちらを使うよう努めてきました。でも、これも間違いでした。
African American の方が正しい言葉なのかと思った、と友人に説明したところ、世代間のギャップはあるとの話でした。つまり、公民権運動を経験した彼女のご両親の世代は、黒を意味する差別的な古い言葉「ネグロ」から距離を置くため、African Americanを使っているそうです。若い世代の方がBlackという言葉に共感を覚えるのだそうです。
The cover of “Book from the Ground“–which is very brief and to the point, literally! By the way, I found out while working on my master’s project that this man is called “Helvetica Man” 🙂
7???（?6）：?←?
The sixth book is Book from the Ground by the Chinese artist Xu Bing. This is a novel that’s written entirely in pictograms! I love pictograms so much that I wrote my “master’s project” (the equivalent of a master’s thesis at my journalism grad school; essentially a long article meant for publications in magazines) on it.
I feel very lucky to have learned about Xu Bing from my dear friend Kieu, an artist who also loves languages. I was fascinated by Bing’s renditions of English words that are made to look like Chinese characters. Then, a few years after, Bing happened to come to my grad school to speak–and that’s how I learned about this book, which he was still writing at the time.
From inside “Book from the Ground.” By the way, the exit sign (on the left page) was invented by a Japanese individual!
The back of the book contains Bing’s quote that says: “Twenty years ago I made Book from the Sky, a book of illegible Chinese characters that no one could read. Now I have created Book from the Ground, a book that anyone can read.” Indeed, the pictograms make the story accessible–but I also find that it takes a lot longer to read! The story is essentially about a day in the life of one man, and has lots of humor (including slapstick bathroom humor).
I’d always been fascinated by kanji, and love how they are essentially little pictures. They are so concise in conveying meaning. I especially love the series of characters that belong to one family, like fish names (who *hasn’t* tried to read all the characters on tea cups at sushi restaurants??), tree names (like fish, you can kind of guess what “hard tree,” “white tree,” etc. each refer to!), and types of weather (especially poetic with the droplets in the “rain” portion).
From the exhibit “Chinese in the Information Age” at the Museum of Chinese in America (February 2019), a panel that shows how the character for “mountain” evolved over time
When I attended Bing’s lecture, emojis were just becoming popular. Facebook wasn’t as big, Twitter was just gaining traction, and Instagram didn’t even exist. But texting was huge, and lots of shortened words (like LOL and TTYL) were being used. I began to wonder if that was the direction were going–will words continue to be shortened, eventually giving way to pictures? I talked about this with my advisor and fellow advisees, and one of the advisees pointed out that letters like hieroglyphs came from pictures–so perhaps we were actually coming full circle.
I really, really, really enjoyed working on this master’s project. I got to interview lots of designers, including the designer of the sports icons of the Mexico City Olympics (1968), and a designer who was commissioned by the Department of Transportation to create airport pictograms (the first of its kind, including bathroom signs). I also got to interview other professionals, including a computer programmer who crowdsourced the translation of Moby Dick into emoji, as well as the founder of an NPO that facilitates virtual communication among children all over the world using emoji. (I didn’t get to meet Bing himself, but visited his studio in Brooklyn, where his assistant provided me with many resources.) Some showed me drafts of their designs, and many welcomed me into their home, reminiscing about their past projects or sharing their ideas for the future. Others were kind enough to meet me for tea–on one occasion at a station in Tokyo, when they were about to jump on a bullet train to go home for the holidays.
It is truly one of my biggest regrets in life that, while I submitted this article to my school, I did not get to publish it in a magazine. While I was pitching it, I was very excited that one major magazine that I’ve always loved expressed interest–but they asked that it be cut to 300 words (less than 1/20 of its length). I felt that was too short, and while I was being indecisive, I missed my timing. Now I fear it is too late, since the interviews were done ten years ago. I think back to all the kind interviewees who were generous with their time–especially the then-79-year-old designer who not only picked me up at a train station and drove me to his house, but gave me a two-hour long interview over tea, kindly brought out his hand drawn designs, and even gave me a rare copy of a poster that has his pictograms. I would still very much like to revisit this project, especially to repay his and other interviewees’ kindness.
Anyway, I continue to be fascinated by kanji, emoji, and pictograms, and look forward to exploring this topic more!
At a special exhibit at the Museum of Applied Arts in Vienna (May 2019). I love the beautiful waves!
*****
6冊目は中国人アーティストの徐冰（Xu Bing）による 『Book from the Ground（地の本）』。すべてピクトサインで書かれた（描かれた？）素敵な本です。
I thought this sign was hilarious and so straightforward! I’m sure Bing (whose book includes bathroom humor ?) would love it! (Found in the streets of Vienna, May 2019)
The fifth piece is Patchwork Girl by Shelley Jackson. This is actually not a book–it’s a “hypertext,” a type of interactive literature that is read on a computer. I encountered this work in a contemporary literature class in college, and continue to be inspired to it today.
Patchwork Girl is about a female version of Frankenstein’s monster, assembled from pieces of multiple corpses. It is very much a feminist piece, focusing on a lesbian figure who takes matter into her own hands. It is worth noting that the original Frankenstein was written by a woman. It is so cool that, while contemporary women writers in the 18th century (who I also love!) wrote about romance and witty conversations over tea, Mary Shelley wrote about human nature and industrialization–and invented the genre of science fiction. Still, the bumbling Frankenstein’s monster who cannot find a mate is very tragic and awkward to read about–and a lot less sexy than other characters of Gothic literature like Dracula, Mr. Rochester, and (while better known for their appearances in films) werewolves. Patchwork Girl empowers this figure, making her a strong and independent woman.
Patchwork Girl is like an allegory, where the various body parts sewn together are parallel to the pieces of text connected through links. In hypertext fiction, instead of pages, passages of text come up on the computer. Links are embedded in the passage, and when the reader clicks on any of them, the next passage appears in a box. But the links aren’t underlined, so it’s never clear where the links are. And unlike on a website, there is no back button or home button. There is no way to skip to the end, so readers are literally lost in the story. Patchwork Girl takes full advantage of this medium. There are scenes where the main character takes a bath with her girlfriend, and the seams come apart–and when she comes out of the bath, it’s not clear whether she’s still herself or has somehow merged with her girlfriend. The main character “dies” (although she is made of dead body parts to begin with) in one passage, but is somehow resurrected in another. These things would not make sense in a linear story–but magically, Jackson makes them work in this nonlinear medium.
I really enjoyed this special exhibit (2017) at The Rosenbach in Philly, which celebrated the 200th anniversary of “Frankenstein”
Ever since I read this, I’ve wanted to create interactive fiction. To me, they seem more natural than books and parallel to how the mind works, like endlessly clicking from one Wikipedia article to another. But there are some big challenges. The first is storytelling: I’ve found that it’s difficult to add depth to characters–or even have more than a few characters, since the story becomes so confusing. (Indeed, this article, which calls it “the failure of futurism,” says that hypertext fiction didn’t take off because they are too hard to write.) The second challenge is technology. In earlier attempts, I was very frustrated by how inaccessible this genre was–hypertext had to be read and written in a specific medium called Storyspace. I thought about putting it online, but thought the back button made things too easy for readers. Now, things are somewhat easier because of apps and websites like Twine.
Personally, I think a biggest challenge is that they’re often a difficult experience for readers. As a child, I didn’t really enjoy reading “choose-your-own-adventure” books, mostly because the characters seemed flat, and the stories were less exciting than linear books–so much attention was paid to making it interactive, that everything else fell behind. And even the experience of reading Patchwork Girl was an intellectual exercise. It was sometimes scary and frustrating to not know where I was in the story, and constantly making decisions ended up being a bit taxing, because even though I was given control in choosing the next step, I didn’t have enough control to know the outcomes of each step. But after I finished reading it, and explored what Jackson has said about her own work, as well as various research done on non-linear narratives and feminism, including Judith Butler–that’s when everything came together. It really was a piece of art that gradually came into focus, rather than a quick and entertaining read.
I’ve put a pause on trying to write interactive stories, because I’ve realized that I first need much more practice in writing linear stories. Still, I hope I can one day challenge myself to create an interactive piece of fiction that is thought-provoking and satisfying to the reader, lingering in their memories for years, like Patchwork Girl has for me.
Part of the exhibit on “Frankenstein.” Mary Shelley was truly a cool figure, the sole woman in a group of male writers!
The fourth book is “Theories of Modern Art” by Herschel Chipp, who was an art history professor at UC Berkeley. I encountered this book as a college student, when it was assigned in a class about the history of modern art. It’s full of primary sources: diaries, letters, and statements by the artists themselves. Despite the somewhat boring name, it’s a really fun read!
The following are works by some of the artists who show up in the book (in roughly chronological order). They’re paintings I happened to encounter, and not works that were mentioned in the book–or even the most representative work of each artist! This is “Postman Joseph Roulin” by Van Gogh, at the MFA in Boston. In the 2017 movie “Loving Vincent” (which, incredibly, was animated using handdrawn paintings that emulated Van Gogh’s style!), the main character is the son of this postman.
My parents are avid museum visitors, and ever since I was a child, I had the chance to tag along. We were most often in the sections with Renaissance art. In my childish mind, they were easy to understand as art that captured a moment in real life. We enjoyed the beautiful colors and nature represented in Impressionism too (although in my youth I believed the rumor that Monet’s style came from his bad eyesight, and questioned the point of Pointillism (so much work!)). But I just never understood modern art after Impressionism, and that frustrated me. So I decided to take a class about it in college–and boy, was that the best decision ever!
“In the Waves” by Gauguin, at the Cleveland Museum of Art. Whenever I see Gauguin’s Tahiti paintings, I have mixed feelings of nostalgia/familiarity (the scenes and clothing are reminiscent of Hawaii) and a vague annoyance at a white man’s portrayal of what he saw as an exotic culture. So I really like this painting that’s a bit different from his style, depicting a white woman (this was apparently two years before he left for Taihiti), and putting much more emphasis on color and composition than showing a different culture. The contrast of the green waves and red hair is so beautiful, too!
Starting with Post-Impressionism, this book progresses through movements like Cubism and Surrealism, ending with “contemporary” (as defined by when the book was first published (1968)) art. These letters and diary entries explain in detail what each artist aimed to achieve in their work, what materials they used, why they changed their style over time–and even their personalities. Van Gogh’s renowned letters to his brother about his artistic and financial struggles are heartbreaking. Picasso’s statement on “Les Demoiselles d’Avignon” is enlightening. Many artists’ lives are integrated with history, like WWI and nationalism. A couple of artists are so passionate that they seem rather self-absorbed–I recall one artist writing in his diary something like, “When I took a break from painting, I noticed that my wife had come and gone, leaving me dinner” (all the artists in the book are, inevitably, male and white).
Henri Rousseau’s “Fight Between a Tiger and a Buffalo,” at the Cleveland Museum of Art. I was amazed to learn that Rousseau had never seen a jungle–or even left France! I also like his style that somehow makes jungles appear two-dimensional.
Now these artists have become some of my favorites–so much so that when I go to museums, I rush to the modern art wings first. Some I just enjoy because of their visuals even if I still don’t understand them (Klee, Miro), and some I admire for their chameleon-like transformation over time (Picasso, Kandinsky). It is fun to recognize their names and style, read the descriptions, and interpret the emotions they were expressing. I find that there’s so much depth, and that the more I stare, the more there is to discover.
“Woman in a Purple Coat” by Matisse, at the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston. This woman is so stylish and could totally be an amazing fashion magazine editor today!
Thanks to this book, I have a much better appreciation for modern and contemporary art in general. I also have a better understanding of how crucial primary sources are in the field of research. In combination, they are even more powerful, fulfilling the artists’ desire for expression and enriching the viewers’ lives at the same time. For now, I’m enjoying these photos from the past few years–but can’t wait to visit museums in person again!
“Tre Croci-Dolomite Landscape” by Oskar Kokoschka at the Leopold Museum in Vienna. I am not a big fan of Kokoschka’s style of depicting people, but his harsh strokes seem perfect for these mountains (and the very muscular horse!).
*****
4日目は『Theories of Modern Art（近代美術の理論）』。故ハーシェル・チップ（カリフォルニア大学バークレー校で美術史を教えていた教授）がまとめた本です。
“Three Musicians” by Picasso at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. It seems like MoMA’s version is more famous, but I like this one more, because the musicians seem happier (the mustaches/smiles are so cute!).
Chagall’s “Sleeping Woman with Flowers” at the Albertina Museum. It is so interesting that the emphasis is on the flowers rather than the woman, as if to depict the contents of her dream.
The third book is Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club. I’m especially excited that I get to write about this during Asian Pacific American Heritage Month, as well as a few weeks after Mother’s Day.
I was blown away when I first read The Joy Luck Club in high school. It was the first time that I could see someone similar to myself in a book written in English: Asian American women who struggle with the dichotomy of two cultures. Because during my childhood, even in Hawaii, the most iconic books were written by and for Caucasian children. It was especially bad with picture books: an Asian kid occasionally made an appearance as a classmate or friend of the white main character, sporting slanted eyes and unreadable expressions. Hawaii bookstores did feature local authors who wrote more diverse characters, but they were harder to come by. So in most stories I read growing up, I felt like a bit of an outsider.
I was super excited to see her on stage at the 2018 National Book Festival (she’s on the left, with her iconic hairstyle)! I bought her memoir but didn’t have the chance to ask for her autograph.
What I love even more about The Joy Luck Club is its focus on immigrant mothers and their second-generation daughters, each with different back stories and personalities. The book really resonated with me because, like those daughters, I was also desperate to fit in the United States, and often narrow-mindedly cast away my mother’s–and my own–culture.
My mother was no “tiger mom,” but she certainly seemed stricter than other parents. She is tall, beautiful, smart, and confident, and growing up, I often felt that I didn’t live up to her expectations. But I also remember a few instances when I hurt her, especially because of the bicultural environment. Once, when I was in second or third grade in Hawaii, my classmates and I were hiking in the mountains, and she joined us as a chaperone. She spoke to me from behind in Japanese, warning that my backpack strap was slipping from my shoulders–and I turned around and said to her sharply, “I told you to talk in English in front of others!”. She apologized, looking surprised and embarrassed. I had wanted to fit in with my American classmates, and wanted to appear strong, as if I didn’t need my mom’s help. I’m now so ashamed that I treated her that way, especially when she’d joined the trip for my sake. In retrospect, I think this was the first time I realized that my seemingly almighty mother could be hurt by my thoughtless words. Now that I’ve matured, we’ve come to understand each other much more–and I’m so thankful for the stronger relationship we now have.
Amy Tan is such an icon and pioneer Asian American woman writer. I understand she has her critics about stereotyping, and to be honest, I don’t think I would be as receptive if she wrote stories based on Japanese history and culture. But I will never forget how much comfort The Joy Luck Club gave me when I first read it, and I believe she paved the way for generations of writers.
The 1993 movie, which I sometimes still talk about with my mother, was unforgettable. While it is shocking that a quarter century (!) had to pass before another major American movie with an all-Asian cast was created (Crazy Rich Asians), it is also amazing how progressive The Joy Luck Club was when no one else was willing to create a movie like that. Either way, I hope I can someday also create stories that bring together diverse characters and universal themes.
From an exhibit on influential baby boomers at the Newseum (2015). I found hope in the fact that she started publishing later than some other authors.
The 2016 Annual Conference of my former workplace, the U.S.-Japan Council, welcomed Tamlyn Tomita (left), one of the actresses in “The Joy Luck Club.” She was as beautiful as ever, and really encouraging of Japanese American leaders. (Photo borrowed from USJC)
The second book (or set of three books) is Nihon Mukashibashi (Japanese folktales) compiled by Joji Tsubota. I read this series several times while I was in elementary school. Among the many different versions of Japanese folktales I’ve owned or borrowed (I bought regional folktales whenever I traveled in other areas in Japan), it’s one that I remember most fondly for its readability and wide collection of stories.
I’ve always enjoyed folktales and fairy tales from throughout the world, including those compiled by the Brothers Grimm or written by Hans Christian Andersen. In olden times, fantastical beings existed alongside humans. It is a bit sad that these beliefs have disappeared in recent times, due to progress in science that dispels myths and explains mysteries, nighttime lights that chase away shadows, and more.
In 2008, when I worked at the Japan Information & Culture Center, Embassy of Japan, I had the fortune of working on this amazing exhibit! Shigeru Mizuki, a manga artist who specializes in yokai, created a special rendition of “The Fifty-Three Stations of the Tokaido” (ukiyo-e prints originally by Hiroshige), with yokai inserted in all 53 prints. 2008年に日本大使館で働いていた頃、水木しげるの『妖怪道五十三次』の展示に携わることができました。広重の『東海道五十三次』の絵一枚一枚に妖怪が足されている、とっても素敵な企画でした！
I especially enjoy how in Japanese stories, animals and objects have a life of their own. This idea is intertwined with the Japanese indigenous religion, as well as the belief that every being, even inanimate objects like rocks or places like mountains and lakes, have a soul. I’m especially enamored with Japanese yokai (monsters), which I’d love to write about one day. They are very human in their behavior and a part of the daily lives of local residents. They often have sad origin stories: like babies that were killed by their parents who could not afford to raise them, monks that turned into monsters once they ate the corpse of an apprentice they loved too much, or animals that disguised themselves as humans because they fell in love with a man. Some are scary, some are mischievous and cute–but all of them have an undertone of melancholy in their isolation, otherness, and yearning to be a part of the human world.
Anyway, these folktales were really helpful in learning Japanese history and culture, especially when I was in the U.S. It looks like Tsubota’s version was written in 1957, and I think the version at my house was republished in 1975–so these stories have really stood the test of time. I hope I, too, can rely on these stories to someday pass along my culture–and perhaps my love for yokai–to the next generation.
This amazing exhibit at the Edo Tokyo Museum featured an all-star cast of ukiyo-e artists–including Utagawa Kuniyoshi, who frequently drew yokai. I’d always wanted to see his work in person, and was really excited that I finally had the chance to do so! 今年1月、江戸東京博物館で見てきた素晴らしい展示（この3人以外にも、写楽と歌麿も取り上げ、『夢の競演』（笑）の名前に負けない展示でした）！以前から憧れていた、妖怪を頻繁に取り上げる国芳の絵を初めてきちんと見ることができました。
Some of the many yokai-themed books I have. I’m especially excited about the “survival guide” in English! 妖怪をテーマとした本は、見ていて本当に面白くて、つい買ってしまいます。英語で書いてあるものを発見したときは飛び上がって喜んでしまいました。
Western monsters are somehow very different from yokai! (Ok, so “Monsters, Inc.” is a category of its own and doesn’t represent all monsters in Western culture, but still…!) This photo is from a great exhibit at the Franklin Institute that explained the technology behind Pixar animations! 西洋のモンスターと妖怪は全然違います。『モンスターズ・インク』はもちろん独自のカテゴリーのもので、西洋のモンスターを代表するものではないけれど。写真はピクサーのアニメの技術を説明した、素晴らしい展示から。
I’ve spent way too long agonizing about the seven-day book cover challenge, which I know is only meant to be fun! The more I saw posts from friends about unique book selections, the more embarrassed I felt about how much I haven’t read recently, especially for someone who professes to love words. But I’ve decided to choose seven books that have meant the most to me in my life. After moving a dozen times, most of these books are buried way deep in a box somewhere in the attic of my parents’ house, so I’ve borrowed the cover photos from online.
In somewhat chronological order that I’ve read them, the first book is Roald Dahl’s Matilda. I read almost every children’s book by Dahl. I think I first learned about him when my third grade teacher, Ms. Kakugawa, read us The Witches–which was a bit scary but very thrilling. The first book I (or rather, my parents!) bought was Fantastic Mr. Fox, then the collection grew from there. Even after my parents and I moved to Tokyo when I was nine years old, my father continued to buy Dahl’s books whenever he went to the U.S. on business trips, and so they were some of the few English language books I could continue to read in Japan.
What makes Dahl’s books wonderful are how much children are empowered, even when their circumstances are less than ideal. When I grew older and began reading Charles Dickens, I recognized so many common themes: the difficult childhoods, mean adults, and amazing naming sense (Miss Trunchbull and Uriah Heep should belong in the same world–just imagining their encounter makes me chuckle!). And Quentin Blake’s illustrations are simply wonderful! They are so simple and cute, but somehow convey the personality of the characters.
While Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, James and the Giant Peach, The BFG, and more are all iconic, Matilda is my favorite. She’s a (somewhat socially awkward) bibliophile who finds happiness in the end. I’ve thought back often to the list of books that Matilda read— but I still haven’t caught up! A few years ago, I got to see a musical version of the book, and that was great, too (my favorite is this song), especially its fun play on all the alphabets)!
As an adult, I’ve learned about some of the controversies that surround Dahl, and that saddens me. Still, I like how feminist Matilda is–it’s about a young girl who stands up for herself, along with the help of a woman mentor (Miss Honey). It brought me so much joy as a child, and I hope I can do the same for others someday.
The musical was in San Francisco before it came to DC (I was so excited to see a poster during a business trip there!).
Introduction (the full text in Japanese continues below (日本語の本文が続きます)):
この投稿は、DCとヒューストンのコミュニティ・ペーパー、『さくら新聞』で書かせていただいている連載、「英語 de 敬語」の記事に関するものです。
新型コロナウイルスが蔓延し、精神的にも経済的にも辛い日々が続いています。今月の「英語 de 敬語」では、今のように不安な時期に他者をどのようにいたわるかについて取り上げました。なお、コロナウイルスの影響により、さくら新聞は来月から休刊となってしまいました。再開の時期も決まっていません。広告が減り、多くの地元紙やコミュニティ・ペーパーが苦しんでいます。ジャーナリストの方々は命を張って外で取材を続けており、地元の人々にとっては、感染の状況を知るために今こそ地元メディアが必要なのですから、非常に残念な状況です。たった10日前にこの記事を書いたときには、さくら新聞も休刊となることを知りませんでした。それくらい、状況は刻々と変わり、悪化していっています。一刻も早くこの状況が収束することを願っています。
“Polite Phrases in English (Episode 8): Words of Compassion”
This post is about my column in “Sakura Shimbun,” a Japanese community paper in DC and Houston.
These past few weeks have been mentally and financially difficult for all of us. This month’s column discusses how to reach out and comfort others during these uncertain times. Due to the virus, Sakura Shimbun has had to suspend publication–and it’s not clear when it might resume. Many local newspapers are suffering because companies are having to pull ads. This is very concerning, because journalists are risking their lives for us when they go out to cover these important topics–and in order to understand how the infection is spreading, we now need local coverage more than ever. When I wrote this column a mere 10 days ago, I did not know that Sakura Shimbun would be suspended–that’s how rapidly things are becoming worse. I sincerely hope this situation will improve as quickly as possible.
今最も大変なのは不眠不休で働く医療関係者の方々だと言えますが、他にも、配達や清掃など、リスクを負いつつ外で仕事を続けている方々が多くいます。 Thank you to you and your colleagues for all that you do. と一言メッセージを送ったり声をかけたりすることで、感謝の気持ちを伝えられます。
飲食業や観光業など、業界によっては、仕事の継続が難しくなってしまった方や、フリーランスや契約の仕事が滞っている方もいます。親しい友人がそういった状況に直面した場合、いろいろと話を聞いた後は、 I would love to help look for any opportunities. Could you let me know what kind of work you might be interested in? などと提案し、別の分野で一時的な職を一緒に探すこともできます。
体調が悪く自己隔離をしている隣人や外出に不安を抱える隣人に対しては、 Is there anything I can get for you, like food or medicine? I’m happy to leave it by your door. といったメッセージを送り、代わりに買い出しに行くこともできます。
友人や同僚と会えず孤独な思いをしている一人暮らしの方や、仕事が減って精神的に辛い方もいるかもしれません。皆大変だからと遠慮して自分から悩みを打ち明けない人もいるでしょうから、 I just wanted to check in with you to see how you’re doing. や I am here for you if you need someone to talk to. などと時々友人にメッセージを送ると、受け取る側は少し気持ちが軽くなるかもしれません。文面だと本音が言いにくそうであれば、 Let’s have a phone date! とある程度の時間を取って電話での会話を持ちかけることもできます。
