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)
I am very saddened by the news that my former boss passed away last week. Irene Hirano Inouye, President of the U.S.-Japan Council (USJC), truly embodied USJC’s mission of strengthening bilateral relations through people-to-people connections. I’m glad to have had the opportunity to work with her for more than six years until last December. I especially cherish the moments when I heard her thoughts directly while discussing draft speeches, accompanying her at media interviews, or interpreting at meetings with Japanese leaders.
A Hero in the Japanese American Community
When I applied to work at USJC in 2013, I was drawn to the idea of continuing a career in Communications as well as U.S.-Japan relations. I was excited that the organization was founded by Japanese Americans–a community I consider myself to be a part of–but did not truly understand the significance of it until I worked there. I heard about the origins of USJC at Irene’s interviews, and met many members whose family members were incarcerated or fought with the 442nd Regimental Combat Team during World War II. I finally understood how groundbreaking the organization was in providing a platform for Japanese Americans–who’d long had to stay away from Japan because of the war–to proactively engage in U.S.-Japan relations.
Irene was at the forefront of this movement. She had a great relationship with leaders like Prime Minister Abe, who met Irene and the Japanese American Leadership Delegation almost every year–and that in turn helped Japanese Americans garner more attention by the Japanese media and the public. She knew how the Japanese American community was quickly changing, becoming more diverse in cultural background and other ways, and continually found new people who might contribute to the bilateral relationship.
People-to-People Relations
Over the years, as I gradually got to know members and supporters, I found a happy side effect. I, too, was benefiting from the “people-to-people” aspect of USJC’s mission, and got to befriend many people I admire. As a friend recently pointed out, these relationships are all thanks to Irene. Irene had an aura that made others pay attention, but she was equally friendly to dignitaries and high school students. She was a great listener who remembered every detail, including the knowledge and expertise of USJC’s hundreds of members. She simply brought people together, beyond cultural background, profession, geography and more.
Optimism
Irene always believed in potential and possibilities. Through USJC, she invested in young leaders, and connected people with the belief that they might collaborate on their own projects that would support U.S.-Japan relations. She continually came up with ideas, and attracted people who wanted to discuss proposals. While I was at USJC, I witnessed a wide range of new programs: from those that connect Asian American state legislators with Japanese leaders, to events and seminars supporting women leaders, to regional economic summits. Each year, we kept getting busier, and our portfolios continued to expand. (Honestly, I griped to colleagues about that.)
But Irene always stayed positive. While so many people and projects competed for her time, her answer was almost always “yes.” Once, at a staff meeting, I brought up two potential dates for an event, and asked which she would prefer. “Let’s do both,” she said–so that people could attend whichever was more convenient. We all laughed because it was so typically Irene, always willing to do it all.
Irene was a natural communicator. During media interviews, she was able to reframe tricky, unexpected questions and weave in information on our upcoming programs. She also agreed to every interview request, responding to urgent ones within minutes, and driving on her own to studios in LA and Hawaii.
Particularly memorable for me is the journey to an in-studio radio interview she did when we were on the Big Island for the Japan-Hawaii Economic Summit. I accompanied her as she drove 30 minutes each way from our hotel. Jagged black lava continued forever on both sides of the car, and she told me how her late husband, Senator Inouye, used to receive many rocks in the mail from people who’d traveled to Hawaii (fearing bad luck, they wanted to return the rocks to Pele, the goddess of volcanoes). We had a quick lunch before the interview at a tiny place across the street from the studio. It was called “Killer Tacos,” and I will never forget how jarring it was to see her, so well dressed, sitting on a steel chair and eating tacos in front of takeout counter.
She was also a great speaker. I drafted long speeches or those on general content, and other colleagues provided talking points for program-specific remarks. But she also gave many toasts or short speeches off the cuff. Afterwards, she knew how best to pose for the camera with other speakers or leaders of partner organizations. If my colleagues or I were there with USJC’s DSLR to take backup photos, she made sure to look at us in addition to posing for the official photographer.
During the 30-minute car ride on the Big Island, surrounded by lava (May 2017)
Japanese Language
She was also easy to interpret for. She spoke clearly and deliberately, never forgetting to pause when it was consecutive interpretation. She said she’d forgotten the Japanese she spoke as a small child. But when I interpreted for her, she often laughed right away at jokes others made in Japanese. Still, she waited patiently for my interpretation, and once that was done, laughed again politely.
I’m really grateful that I got to build my interpreting portfolio while at USJC. Thanks to the kindness of Irene, my direct superiors, and other colleagues, I got to use vacation and work as a freelance interpreter on many occasions–including at events where Irene happened to speak (so sometimes I interpreted a speech that I’d drafted!).
During my final month at USJC last December, Irene happened to be in the DC office for a few days. Realizing that this was the last time I could say goodbye as a staff member, I told her how much I’d enjoyed working at USJC, and thanked her for her guidance and support.
“We’ll continue to see each other, just in a different way,” she said. It made me so happy that she seemed to believe in my success as I continue working in the U.S.-Japan space. And in those few seconds, I daydreamed of the next time I might say hello to her, perhaps after interpreting at a USJC event. But that December afternoon was the last time I saw her in person.
When Irene announced this past January that she would retire, she wrote that being USJC’s president was “an honor of a lifetime.” That line, which seemed to condense so many “thank yous” and “goodbyes,” made me cry. Only a few years ago, when she was asked about retirement as part of a media interview, she had said that she wanted to continue working or volunteering for as long as she could. I could only imagine how painful the decision to retire must have been. But I was also relieved, thinking that now she’d finally have time to rest.
I did not think she would be gone so soon. When I told a friend about my last in-person exchange with her, he said that I was lucky that I got to say goodbye. And I am comforted by that thought. Yet, I’m full of regrets. I wish I’d spoken more that day, instead of awkwardly trying to find the words to condense six years into a few sentences. I wonder about the moments when I could’ve done more to help her prepare for interviews or speeches, but didn’t because I was swamped. I regret the times that I said or showed that I felt overwhelmed.
But I’m also reminded of so many happy memories. She was always poised, so on the few occasions that I made her guffaw (sometimes not on purpose!), I felt a sense of accomplishment. When a business trip to Honolulu allowed me to reunite with my wonderful elementary school teacher after more than two decades, she emailed me to ask how it was. When we returned from a business trip to Japan, where we each got a cute singing duck from one of our sponsors, Aflac, she brought hers back to DC but gave it to me–and I laughed that she knew I was likely to appreciate it the most out of anyone in the office (even though this was my second duck).
The adorable Aflac duck ? His song comes out garbled now but I still enjoy looking at him!
Looking Ahead
To me, my former workplace feels like how an adult child might perceive her parents’ house–always there as a source of comfort and familiarity during difficult times. So this monumental change is incredibly close to my heart–but I also feel powerless that I’m no longer staff. I picture myself visiting the office to hug former colleagues, and feel sad every time I remember that the office is empty while everyone teleworks. I am especially heartbroken that we lost someone who championed people-to-people relations at a time when we must all remain isolated.
But Irene’s legacy lives on, as evidenced in the many people who have met and worked with her. This period of us remaining apart will eventually be over, and I have faith that USJC will continue to succeed in bringing people together, be it in person or virtually. There’s so much that I learned from Irene, including optimism in the face of challenges. I hope to continue to work on strengthening U.S.-Japan relations in my own way, and hope I can make her proud.
–Reflecting upon six years at the U.S.-Japan Council
One of my proudest moments at USJC: moderating a discussion at the TOMODACHI Daiwa House Student Leadership Conference that featured Mrs. Nobuko Sasae, conference interpreter, champion for women leaders, and wife of then-Ambassador Kenichiro Sasae. (October 2016)
I’m very sad that I will be leaving the U.S.-Japan Council (USJC) at the end of the year (which is now today!). I’ve had a wonderful journey of more than six years. Since it was such a big part of my life, it still feels surreal that I will no longer be part of the staff.
When I joined the Council in 2013, I was looking for a way to combine my passion for words with my lifelong desire to connect my two home countries. I got to achieve that goal–and gained so much more. I found close friends, learned about the many different ways of contributing to U.S-Japan relations, and gained confidence in ways that I could not have elsewhere.
I was so excited that I happened to fly on one of the TOMODACHI planes sponsored by All Nippon Airways! And it was my flight back to DC right after supporting a TOMODACHI program in Tokyo, too. (March 2017)
Meaningful Relationships
As an introvert, I’ve always been more comfortable writing than interacting face-to-face. I struggled to open up in the past because I was unsure of who I was, caught between two identities. But at USJC, I got to meet and befriend many people who share that experience–and are also very warm, accepting of flaws, and sometimes quirky. Due to the core values we have in common, we often have an innate understanding of each other. At the same time, the differences in the way we approach similar issues (multicultural upbringing, ambiguous identities, code switching, etc.) are what makes these relationships so interesting.
Colleagues at USJC have really become a family. Never have I felt so comfortable around a group of people! I have so much respect for not only their talents, but also the dedication they put into each of their portfolios and U.S.-Japan relations as a whole. Late night conference calls, business trips with red-eye flights, or emailing all hours of the night are everyday occurrences. Battling alongside one another have made us very close, and I know I will continue to be inspired by them no matter where our future paths may take us.
Our members and supporters are equally incredible, since they do so much by volunteering their time and resources. They give us advice (I learned so much from members of the Communications Committee, who are journalists, PR professionals, and marketing experts), host exchange students in their homes, provide financial contributions, organize events in their regions, and more. I’ve heard multiple members say that USJC is the organization that they spend the most time with outside of their full-time jobs. I respect them immensely, not only for their accomplishments, but also for their passion to make the world a better place.
Some people in the USJC community, like president Irene Hirano Inouye, or board members Secretary Norman Mineta or Fred Katayama, are people I’d long admired even before becoming a staff member–and sometimes I’m still in awe that I got to work with them! USJC’s emphasis on people-to-people relations was a big draw when I joined the organization, but I didn’t know I would also benefit from it. Here, I gradually learned to be comfortable and happy with who I am.
Sometimes my worlds collided in such a cool way! As a freelance interpreter, I accompanied a International Visitors Leadership Program (sponsored by the U.S. State Department) that was themed on clean energy–and TOMODACHI happened to sponsor their flights to and from Japan. Here we are in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. (April 2015)
Small Staff, Big Scale
The USJC staff of about 30 people accomplish a lot, thanks to not only their own hard work, but also support from dedicated members, talented contractors, and generous sponsors. USJC works on some very large-scale projects, from international conferences with hundreds of people, to delegations of state legislators, to scholarships stemming from a $10 million gift. This far exceeded my expectations I used to have for nonprofit organizations.
The best part was being able to meet TOMODACHI alumni, students, and delegates we’ve supported, and directly see the impact of what USJC does. This was often possible due to travel. I went on about 20 business trips, about half of them to Japan, and the rest to California and Hawaii, with some others to New York, Houston, and Portsmouth.
On a daily basis, it was nice to be one half of a two-person Communications team in the U.S., since the broad portfolio (speechwriting, newsletters, publications, media relations, photos, website, presentations, etc.) kept things dynamic and very busy! I feel proud to have contributed to growing our presence in Japan, especially by creating a Japanese website and Japanese annual report, and making other publications bilingual.
While editing biographies, highlighting member accomplishments, or hearing about the life decisions of stakeholders, I’ve gotten to know the many different ways in which we can contribute to U.S.-Japan relations. And that’s given me the courage to take the next step, and decide to focus more on writing and interpreting. Even though I am leaving staff, I will continue to support USJC as a DC-based contractor. I feel very lucky about that, combined with how flexible my colleagues and bosses have been while I often took time off for interpreting assignments.
Truthfully, I feel very scared to leave this comfortable place for the unknown. This simple post cannot do justice to all that I’ve learned during the past six years, and going through the photos has made me very sad! But I feel that this step is necessary for my career. I am glad–and honored–to remain a part of this wonderful community, be it through my contract work or through personal relationships. I feel that I was able to grow both personally and professionally at USJC, and really appreciate everyone I’ve met through this organization.
Last day in the office, with “thank you USJC” sugar cookies (their appearance leaves much to be desired, but the message is there!) (December 2019)
