Category: Japan – Family

Honmaru, Imperial East Garden, Tokyo, May 8, 2004. Bessa-L, CV 21mm f/4, Kodak Tmax 400.

I don’t know why I thought it’d be this way, but somehow I imagined that one day our son Kaika would just wake up and be able to walk on his own two feet, as if there was an on-off switch he would flip in his dreams and then he’d wake up to a new reality. I thought that there would be a clear demarcation point, from baby to toddler, and a date to write in the baby book, “On this day, our son walked for the first time.”

Alas this is just one of many aspects of imagined parenthood that Kaika is steadily confounding, as if he’s dragging his hand along a path of dominoes and making them fall one by one. I’m getting used to it, and it’s best I am, as I suspect it will continue this way for the rest of my life.

Since around February Kaika has been slowly but steadily learning how to stand and walk on his own two feet, progressing from the proverbial baby steps, his hands clutching ours or vice-versa, to what is these days a damn near run of the house, occassionally aided by a wall or the legs of one of us, just to catch his breath now and then. Of course he falls from time to time, accompanied occassionally by wailing which seems to turn into whimpering and then to smiling much quicker than it takes his worried father’s heartbeat to slow down. But like trying to watch clock hands move, it’s simply not possible to neatly delineate when it was exactly that he started to walk.

Funny thing is, he has apparently decided to dispense with the age-old wisdom that one must learn to crawl before one can walk. To this date, he still hasn’t learned how to crawl, at least of the on your hands and knees variety. Perhaps he’s just come to the conclusion that that which can be done more quickly and efficiently is the more preferable method.

Kaika, the expanses laid out before you like the one below must look so immense and boundless. But you ain’t seen nothing yet, and there are so many more miles to wander before you sleep. And right now you think walking is the bee’s knees, but just you wait, before you know it you’ll be running, and then, before you even know what to do with all this newfound mobility, you’ll be flying.

Kaika at home, February 16, 2004. Canon EOS Elan IIe, 50mm f/1.8 II, Konica Centuria 400.

Of late, spurred by some private conversations, as well as some online reading, I’ve been thinking about Kaika and his ethnicity, and namely his “status” in this country as “half,” which is to say half-Japanese. Now, we haven’t been approached by any modeling agency reps on the street like Mark’s wife was recently, but it’s clear that Kaika’s interracial ethnicity is something he’s already being defined by, at such an early age, whether he wants it or not, and whether his parents want it or not I might add.

Today as we were cycling around the neighborhood looking at cherry blossom trees, Naoko heard a woman remark to her friend, yappari haafu no ko wa kawaii yo ne, which roughly would be something like “ain’t it the truth that half-Japanese children are so cute.” What wasn’t said but is assumed is that “half” refers to children of Japanese and Caucasian parents. It’s mightly unlikely that the same would have been uttered if I were Filipino or Black, for example, regardless of how cute my kid was.

I can’t quite put my finger on it but there’s something that really rankles me about comments like these. Now, I have to admit that growing up in Hawaii, with it’s large Japanese-American and Caucasian populations (about 30% each of the state’s ethnic makeup when I lived there), it was generally accepted among me and my friends that children of Japanese and Caucasian parents were the cutest, and I remember when I saw John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s son Sean Lennon on TV the first time, just after the elder Lennon was assassinated, I thought much the same thing as this woman said today: yup, Japanese-Caucasian children really are cute, aren’t they.

Is it just a case that now that I’m on the other side of the fence I see it differently? I don’t know, but I think one of the things that bothered me today when Naoko told me about this woman’s comment was that the woman had said it loud enough to be heard. It struck me as very rude, although perhaps she didn’t realize how her voice would carry, or perhaps it was her way of throwing us a compliment. Maybe I’m wrong, but I can’t help but think that the same comment wouldn’t be uttered within earshot of a similar mixed race family, if at all, in the States. I’m not saying folks wouldn’t think it, I’m sure some of them would, just as I did when I was young and still do to some extent.

There are a lot of things we think privately or might share in a whisper with our companion, like “gee she’s fat” or “boy does he look like a geek,” that only the most insensitive among us would say loud enough to be heard by the object of them. Of course, these are not compliments and perhaps therein lies the rub. I’m sure most of these people who feel that “halfs” are so cute see nothing wrong, or at least problematic, in this sentiment. But why isn’t “he’s cute” enough, why the need to link the child’s cuteness to the child’s ethnicity? I have some further speculative thoughts on the subject, but I’d be curious to hear what others may think, especially those in a similar situation as Naoko and I.

The Contemporary Museum, Honolulu, January 28, 2004. Bessa R2, 35mm f/2.5, Konica Centuria 200.

Kaika turned 1 yesterday. Happy birthday, son. Hard to believe it’s been a year since this day. There are days I can’t wait for you to grow up, stand on your own two feet, play catch with your Papa, flower like your name into the wonderful person I know you’ll be….And then there are others when I ask you not to hurry, not to grow up too fast, there’s no need to be hasty, everything in its own time. Yesterday was a day for the latter.