mermaids, oceans and grannies

Hello lovlies -- have a seat on my blanket. It's wet on the ground today... or so we pretend, because we all know we're inside on my livingroom floor. Our fluffy clouds are made of cardboard, the meadow set is painted, and the rainbow is a light projection. But we are having a good time anyway, because we are warm and snug as a bug in a rug. 

I have always been drawn to the ocean, but I am still a little bit of a landcrab (Swedish expression 'landkrabba', meaning someone who takes their time to enter water, especially when the water is coooold). I grew up in Malmö, a coastal town in southern Sweden, and spent every day by the beach during the summer months, reading, swimming, sunbathing, swimming, chatting with friends, swimming... all day long.

My name in latin means "of the sea" -- Marina. My western astrological sign is Virgo, and she is sometimes depicted with a mermaid's tail. I always wondered about that, for some reason, me being drawn to the ocean... Does that come from having my name, or did I get my name for a reason other than that my mom liked it and the fact that it was the name of a hit song in Europe when I was in her belly? 

The ocean waves have always soothed me. 

A while ago I happened upon the women of Jeju (Cheju, alt. sp.) Island while I was doing some general research on women and shamanism in Korea. The story of these ocean divers, these tough ladies, the haenyeo, spoke directly to my heart.  The other day I saw some photos from a photographic book written by Brenda Paik Sunoo depicting these beauties, and I was delighted that someone had taken the time and effort to document the lives of the haenyeo, the divers, in such a candid and beautiful way. 

Older women have always had a special place in my heart. I remember with fondness a very special trip to Ukraine with Yara Arts Group. We visited with the babushki, the grandmas, in the villages of Kriatchkivka (Poltava) and Svaritsevitchy (Polissia). We sang with them, we sang to them, they sang to us, we cried together, we told each other stories. The visits were so intense and so moving, it is actually hard to put those feelings and experiences down in writing. One day I will write them down, just not today... 

Older women remind me of my own Swedish grandma, whom I loved; who was so strong, so independent and stubborn, a tough cookie indeed. She passed away a few years ago. And they remind me of my Korean grandma, whom I never got to meet. She died when my mother was very young, and then her husband, my grandpa, died shortly after. It was said in the family their bond was so strong they couldn't be apart, so she came and got him. 

I think it was the search for my grandmothers, both my maternal whom I had never met, and my paternal whom had just died, and my mother, who had died some years back, that lead me on this search for the Korean grannies. I was thinking about the significance of the presence of our elders in our lives, especially our grandmothers, and how it will impact me and my girls that they are not around to guide us... The matrilineal commune is very important I have come to realize, and I mourn the loss of mine. But sometimes, just sometimes, I hear my mother talk to me... amid a murmur of ocean waves.

Photo 1 Haenyeo from Jeju Island

Photo 2 Babushki in Kriatchkivka (photo by Akiko Hiroshima)

Photo 3 Babushki in Svaitsevitchy (photo by Akiko Hiroshima)

a grain of sand

Hello,

I think the worst of my fury has subsided... I feel calmer now, after a couple of days of being very upset at the lack of anti-discriminatory thinking in my home country and here. I wrote it out of me.
Please help yourself to a nice glass of Pinot Noir and have a seat on my blanket. Look, I brought the beach! 


This will be a short one.


These beautiful things are grains of sand. Each grain is unique. It's you and me. It's our mothers and fathers. It's our kids. It's all of us. Together. 
We make a beautiful and lovely substance. We make sand. 


I had to write this. I know I write in platitudes and cliches right now, but I don't really care... 

I'm going with the flow. What will be, will be. Que sera, sera. ;-)

Rise above it. Love yourself.

To my Swedish peeps:

I am still fired up because this whole affair boggles my mind so profoundly that I cannot stop thinking about it. You will have to deal with my rants for a little bit longer... :)


What do you think would have happened if a young person committed suicide because of daily racist taunts in Sweden? Do you think there would have been any charges filed against his/her perpetrators? 

Do you think the perpetrators would be able to get away with claiming: I didn't know it wasn't OK to call someone names. I didn't mean anything bad when I said "chink", "China-man", when I asked "are you from China" every day, when I beat you, and humiliated you. I just thought it was OK to call someone "slant eyes", since the Asians really do have slanted eyes. But I am not a racist, I am just stating the obvious, aren't I?

Would they have gotten away with such excuses? And if so, what can be done to change the policies in Sweden? How do we get rid of the kind of environment that ALLOWS such behavior?

Precisely his happened to a young US soldier named Danny Chen from New York City, in October in Kandahar, Afghanistan. Private Chen was 19 years old when he allegedly committed suicide in a Watch Tower on his base after a full day of physical abuse and otherwise daily racial taunts from his fellow soldiers and superiors. You can view an explanatory news segment from 'Democracy Now!' here about the continuing pressure the Chen family puts on the investigation. My heart bleeds for Private Chen and his family. 

The other day I read an article by Kristina Lindquist in Expressen. She urges Sweden to call racism by it's proper name, namely racism. No more excuses, no more explanations, no more playing dumb. 

Kristinas article lead me to  Asian-Swedish writer Patrik Lundbergs article from last year "Ni sliter själen ur mig" (You tear my soul out of me), in which he tells of the weekly racial taunts, slurs and mishaps he has to endure. Reading Mr. Lundberg's writing cut into my heart.

How do we educate people about Sweden's past as one of the foremost countries in RACE BIOLOGY, including the opening of the world's first state sponsored Race Biological Institute (listen to P3 radio podcast here) in the early 1900's? How to we tell people that EUGENICS (improving the genetic composition of a population) was big in Sweden, and that Sweden was flirting with the Nazis' ideas on "racial hygene" before the WWII. 

We cannot be allowed to hide behind such lame statements like: We are not racists because we don't have the same history as the United States, we didn't have slavery, my ancestors didn't do anything or oppress anybody, why am I to blame for the slavery and oppression of other people in other countries... etc. Look at your history, know your history. I know mine.

Well, because I am ALL that I am because I am mixed-race Asian (Swedish-Korean), you are also ALL that you are because you are White, which means you are a representative of a race that has historically claimed supremacy and world domination over all other peoples, cultures and races time and time again. That means that your history of White Supremacy, oppression, occupation and colonization of a large portion of the world's population, Euro-centricism, genocide of peoples, cultures and languages other than the dominant one etc., is yours to bear. 

I have my own history which I carry. Now you carry yours. 

Suck it up. Deal with it. Learn from it. Become a better person. Rise above. Love yourself. 

But whatever you do: don't blame everyone else for not being able to live your old ways. Don't tell me: what about when they call me "svenne", when I feel like a minority in my own country, when I get called short, fat, thin, tall, ugly, blind...?

Are you kidding me?

Don't give excuses, don't act like a colonialist, don't think like one. Just live a better, kinder, more thoughtful and loving existence with your fellow human beings. I will do the same. That's all. We must love better. 

Love better.

JUST LOVE.

LOVE.

  

Dear, beloved Racist

Hello my dears ~~ no need to pour the wine for me. It's a little early in the day, plus I've been home sick for three days straight, with a sneezy, runny nose and a itchy, sore throat. Best to not indulge quite yet. ;) But I hope you brought some live ladybugs - I love the little critters - and we can start decorating the meadow scene for our picnic spot, right next to the Christmas tree. Hehe... 

I am a little fired up today! My friend, Michelle (who has two beautiful mixed race kids as well), posted an excellent and astute article from a Swedish newspaper on her facebook page this morning. Michelle's been arguing for a long time to not use the derogatory n-word in Sweden, and was instrumental in contacting a record label company in Sweden to try remove the derogatory n-word from a classic, beloved children's song CD (copyrighted 1994) called "Nu ska vi sjunga". 
Here is Kristina Lindquists article in Swedish newspaper 'Expressen' on Jan 6, 2011. It's in Swedish, so for you, dear reader of the English language, I will sum it up: the writer talks about incidents in Sweden during 2011 in which blatant racism was responded to by some people as 'not racism'. The writer calls for Swedes to call it by its right name: racism. Don't use the n-word and then in the same breath say "I didn't mean it in a bad way", or say that it's OK to call someone a 'negro' because it only means 'black' in latin. "Negro is just a color description, nothing else". Huh!!?? Seriously!!!! 

Among other unbelievable things, there was an incident at the University of Lund, where at a party with a "jungle theme", they dressed up as african slaves at an auction complete with blackface and all. Disgusting incidents happen here in the US too, but I think a huge difference between the two countries is that people dare to, and will, make a HUGE STINK about it here in the United States. Things will go viral within hours, people band together in the thousands, raise their voices, demand an apology, demand someone to take responsibility immediately, here. In Sweden one lone black man, my hero if you ask me, was horrified by what he saw that night in Lund and called the police. He was harassed at his workplace with banners plastered all over, reading "Our african slave has run away". According to the above article the Vice-Chancellor of University of Lund said he didn't think anyone had had racist intentions. 

Oh Em Gee!

But that's just it. Everywhere you turn in Sweden, nobody has supposedly any racist intentions, but I hear the most crazy things come out of people's mouths. When millions of people in an uber-standarized, modern, intelligent country in Europe with otherwise great politics in feminism and equality, cannot understand the consequences of using highly derogatory phrases and words, where have you all been the last several decades?? How can you be so thick-skinned that you cannot understand that when you use a bigoted phrase or word to describe someone, it is hurtful? 

There is weird disconnect between a stubbornness to want to keep using old, hurtful phrases, and the hurtful consequences of such usage. There is a disconnect between the individual thinking that "it's my rights" and a feeling of belonging with a larger commune, with each other, a feeling of empathy. There is a "us" and "them". 

Racism lives everywhere. To counter the slave-auction incident in Sweden, there was the self taped video of a UCLA student (March 2011) who went on a rampage against Asians in this little video clip called Asians in the Library. The University spokesperson thought of her actions as "repugnant", and the female student was asked to give a public apology, which she did. The university's Chancellor, Gene Block, said "I believe that a speech that expresses intolerance toward any group of people is indefensible and has no place at UCLA". I am not certain if further actions were taken to reprimand her, but at least she learnt something, hopefully, and will think twice about saying offensive things (or am I too hopeful?). 

I think Sweden could do with a little more individual accountability on the racism front. You should not be able to hide behind such absurdities as: just because I use the n-word it doesn't mean I'm racist. Because, you know what? Guess what? It does! 

Another absurdity I have been hearing for a while is the fight to be able to call a Swedish sweet treat N-balls (I can't even write the whole name out...). Despite repeatedly arguing that it is wrong, it is hurtful, it is racist, it is derogatory, it is bigoted... etc etc, some Swedes still feel they "have the right to call it what I want". Ok, you have the right to call it whatever you want, but then don't tell me you're not a bigot! Don't tell me you don't mean any harm, because HARM is exactly what you do!!! 

But even if you don't understand this at the moment, I still love you - you will understand in time.

We need people in schools and at home that teach our children what's what. We need politicians to grow some balls (or as Betty White allegedly have said: grow a vagina!) so they can take a stand and say that certain behavior is unacceptable. A university Chancellor in Sweden should grow some/a ____ (left intentionally blank, you can fill in your own genital preference) and take a stand and say to the student body: this behavior is absolutely unacceptable. 

My dear and beloved grandmother - may her soul rest in peace - used to say infuratingly racist remarks. Not about me. She loved me. She adored me. I will love her forever and always. I used to tell her that when she makes comments about other people of color, she inadvertently ropes me in. I am hurt because I am a person of color. I cannot listen to someone badmouthing one group of people without taking offense, and feeling hurt, because I am that person... because I am you... 

I forgive her. I love her. 

But you know what, the hurt still lingers... 

The Great Colonic

Hello my friends ~ it's nice to see you again so soon. I am making a greater effort to write more this year - one of my new year's resolutions, along with eating multivitamins for a prolonged period of time to feel the accumulative effects, if any. Spread your blanket, turn on the bird chirps and the insect whirrs, turn down the wind machine to 'low' (it's a little too blustery when you can't hear each other, don't you think?), and pretend it's spring time. We're going to have a picnic on the living room floor today.

My "welcome speech" to 2012, which also served as a sort of "good-riddance speech" towards 2011, as I posted it on facebook on January 1, pretty much sums up my feelings on the new year. It reads a little something like this:

Hello 2012. So nice to finally meet you! I have heard a lot about you, and would love to know you a little more. Your predecessor, 2011, was kind of crappy. Many interesting things happened, and I am the wiser and richer for having gone through some of it, but by golly was it a slimy, yucky year! I have high hopes for you, 2012. No pressure. Thanks for showing up today (not a moment too early). Let's have a GREAT YEAR TOGETHER!!!

Let's analyze together, shall we. I did not write in an overly cynical or bitter tone, yet it still contains a good dose of dissatisfaction with the previous 12 months, as is evidenced by my use of the words "slimy" and "yucky". Actually, dissatisfaction would be an understatement. Perhaps disgust would better describe my feelings? Yes, I think so.  

One of my dear hula sisters reminded me of the joyous times we've shared as well, and made me consider all the goodness and joy that has come my way in the last year. Her remark about one of her own highlights of 2011 reminded me that I must be grateful for the magic in every day life, tiny moments that will brighten our heart for a split second if we let it. I was reminded that special moments will live in me until the day I die, and that as long as there is dance in my life, I am alive. I was reminded that I too had highlights... 

I really do have a great deal to be thankful for, and I have experienced a great deal of joy and goodness that I have been lucky enough to share with kids, friends, family and hula 'ohana. I am so grateful to my kumu and my hula 'ohana for providing me with a purpose this past year. I am grateful I had the opportunity to travel with my kids twice this summer, and experience Hawai'i, Sweden and Iceland together. We made memories together with family and friends that are irreplaceable and priceless.




But I can't help but being relieved at the end of this period of time I'd like to call "The Great Colonic" - the era where a heap of crap was purged out. I have borrowed this phrase from Dr. Christiane Northrup. That is what she called her past two years, so that is what I will call my last past three years. Pre-cancerous polyps have been vacuumed out, crap's been evacuated, shit's been force-flushed out the rear -- metaphorically speaking of course. Strictly speaking I was not in the Colonic phase for three whole years, but I was accumulating unnecessary baggage and was struggling to figure out what to do with it for three years. It's only now, at the year's shift, that I am able to activate the renewal and rejuvenation mechanisms that I know I have. 

I also cut a chunk of my long hair off. It is now shoulder length. Dead weight has been cut off, the unhealthy was sheared off; new, stronger hair is allowed to grow in. I feel freer and lighter. I really do.   

This year I am going to strive towards being a better, more conscientious person, more caring and more aware. I will think harder on how I can reduce my carbon footprint, and reduce my energy expenditure. I will consume less, lighten my load; and I will gradually be getting rid of more things. I really don't need to save clothes from 20 years ago... 

This year I will be Freer and Lighter and Stronger. This year I will be kick-@ss! 

Thank you for sharing the blanket with me, and listening to me basically saying that last year sucked and this year will be great, in a nutshell... kinda... sorta... I should have written just that from the start, and saved you the trouble of reading all the above paragraphs. ;-)

Please don't forget to bring some non-toxic paint for our background meadow scene, and some live ladybugs, next time. 

A bientot!

(Halau circle at LaMama June 2011, photo by Wayne Takenaka; Full moon at Kahala, O'ahu, July 2011; riding in Iceland, August 2011)  

Hello 2012!

Hello picnicers
It suddenly turned a new year while we weren't looking. Thanks for stopping by the grassy plot this evening. I hope you've poured yourself a nice glass of wine, but we won't stay long...

I just wanted to get a quick post in before the stroke of midnight - like a little cinderella girl - so that we start the new year off right: with some writing on my blog!

Happy New Year to all my picnic visitors and may we see more of each other in the new year. May all your dreams come true and many blessings to you all.