Nikkei Chronicles #10—Nikkei Generations: Connecting Families & Communities
The theme of the 10th edition of Nikkei Chronicles—Nikkei Generations: Connecting Families & Communities—takes a look at intergenerational relationships in Nikkei communities around the world, with a particular focus on the emerging younger generations of Nikkei and how they connect (or don’t) with their roots and with older generations.
Discover Nikkei solicited stories related to Nikkei Generations from May to September 2021. Voting closed on November 8, 2021. We received 31 stories (21 English; 2 Japanese; 3 Spanish; and 7 Portuguese) from Australia, Brazil, Canada, Japan, New Zealand, Peru, and the US, with a few submitted in multiple languages.
An editorial committee chose a favorite story in each language. In addition, a Nima-kai favorite was determined by online community voting. Here are the selections! (*Translations of the selected stories are currently in progress.)
Editorial Committee’s Favorites
- ENGLISH:
Oh, Bachan, How Your Garden Grows
By Kyra Karatsu - JAPANESE:
Happy to Be of Help—My Japanese-learning Classes
By Kazue Ishii - SPANISH:
An Unfortunate Break
By José Yoshida Sherikawa - PORTUGUESE:
Ojiichans
By Ana Shitara
Nima-kai Favorite:
- 43 Stars
The Spirit of Giving
By Troy Miyazato
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* This series is presented in partnership with:
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*Logo design by Jay Horinouchi
Stories from this series
Geta, giri and going to Japan
Oct. 11, 2021 • Joanna Boese
My mother, Naomi Boese (née Taguchi), grew up in Tsuyama, Okayama-ken, Japan. Her mother was a housewife and her father was a postal official. Mum was the youngest of four children; the eldest was a girl, and two boys followed. Mum completed high school but her family couldn’t afford to send her to college, so she joined the staff at the US military base in Iwakuni. She met my father, Selwyn Boese, sometime between 1955-57, when he was on discharge …
Japanese Kiwi
Oct. 7, 2021 • Jacqueline Yoshioka-Braid
I descend from a long line of samurai families. I am the fifth of six children of my parents, Taeko Yoshioka and Noel Braid. My parents met during the Japanese Occupation when Dad was on R&R there during his tour of duty in the Korean War. At 25 years old, he was a gunner in the 16th Field Regiment and my mother, 19, worked in a small, family noodle restaurant. My mother had a privileged upbringing as a child. My …
Across Oceans
Oct. 5, 2021 • Yuki Kawakami
My parents met in Osaka when Mum was in her final year of school and Dad was a university student. Mum was an occasional backup singer on TV and graduated with a degree in nihongo (Japanese), while Dad worked as a sales representative for a kimono dress and fabric company. They married in their 20s and enjoyed their life together for nearly a decade before I was born in 1987. With a baby on the way, Dad secured a job …
Baachan’s Beloved Gyoza
Oct. 4, 2021 • Marina Yukawa
I don’t have many vivid memories of my childhood, but I remember that day well. I don’t know how old I was. Baachan had gathered several mothers, including mine, her daughter-in-law, for what today I would call a “gyoza workshop.” Baachan’s gyoza was well known among family and friends, having a guaranteed spot on the table whenever we visited our grandparents in Mogi das Cruzes, an hour away from the city of São Paulo, where I’ve lived since the age …
An Unfortunate Break
Sept. 30, 2021 • José Yoshida Sherikawa
They arrived in Peru on the same ship, the SS Hong Kong Maru. Four passengers among a small group of immigrants from Saga-Kiushu Prefecture, who, because their hometowns were close to each other, began a close friendship, one that could even be described as a “close brotherhood.” For five years they worked together at the Santa Barbara and Casa Blanca de Cañete plantations that belonged to British Sugar, 140 kilometers south of Lima. Once their work contracts had ended, two of …
Interned and enlisted: My family history
Sept. 29, 2021 • Shey Dimon
Tomo, my grandfather My grandfather Tom (Tomo) was a joker, the self-confessed black sheep of the family. He liked to “stir the pot,” and his deep belly laugh would erupt whenever he sensed some kind of family controversy. Just for fun, he left my grandmother waiting at St. Andrew’s Cathedral in Sydney on their wedding day “FOR A LONG TIME” (she said) for him to arrive. She wanted to strangle him. He just laughed. I called him Pop. He was …