Gaby Oshiro
@GabyOshiroGaby Oshiro was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina, and grew up in Treviso, Italy. Gaby got her love for visual arts and music from her parents. After fine arts school in Treviso, Italy, she started her own research through music, painting, and macrophotography and merging it all together in art installations. She is always looking for that elusive hidden beauty that can’t be seen with the naked eye. Check her website and blog.
Updated March 2016
Stories from This Author
My olds
Jan. 15, 2018 • Gaby Oshiro
What is plagiarism? Plagiarism is copying other people's works, giving them as your own without explicitly crediting where the information comes from (Royal Spanish Academy). How many times have I dreamed of having a different family story to tell. I wish I had been accused of plagiarizing someone so I wouldn't have to face my reality. How many times did I lie to strangers so as not to have to tell what had happened to my old man, in reality …
Takashi - Part 5
Jan. 8, 2018 • Gaby Oshiro
Read part 4 >> Return In 1992 my mother suddenly made the decision to return to Argentina. In February he sent my brother to Buenos Aires because the start of school was approaching and he didn't want Leo to fall a year behind in high school. At that moment I didn't ask any questions, I just told him that if he wanted to come back so that the five of us could be together, that is, my maternal grandparents and …
Takashi - Part 4
Dec. 25, 2017 • Gaby Oshiro
Read part 3 >> The Mothers of Plaza de Mayo Beba, my mother, always got involved everywhere, without fear of anyone, she asked inconvenient questions, dangerous for the times. I was afraid for her. Since I needed to know what I was doing in those hours that I was in the company of my grandmother, I begged her to take me with her. On one of those times we went to march with the Mothers of Plaza de Mayo. It …
Takashi - Part 3
Dec. 18, 2017 • Gaby Oshiro
Read part 2 >> Drink Bresolin My family went through a very difficult time when my dad was taken away. My mother never felt defeated, every day was another day, another opportunity to find her husband. He would leave early and return late, while I stayed with my grandmother Teresa, waiting for his return. My grandmother would enter my room and we would leave it dark: we would look impatiently through the blinds, with the street light filtering in and …
Takashi - Part 2
Dec. 11, 2017 • Gaby Oshiro
Read part 1 >> Labor lawyers When he was fired from the metallurgical factory, Takashi consulted the law firm of Javier Slodky and Mario Garelik, located at 51 Maipú Street in Avellaneda. Both attorneys agreed with the advice Beba had previously given him. They advised my father to continue his studies at the university and that way he could collaborate better with the problems of the workers. My father finished college in a third of the time it took other …
Takashi - Part 1
Dec. 4, 2017 • Gaby Oshiro
On the night of April 21, 1977, fourteen armed men dressed in civilian clothes invaded the law office of my father Oscar Takashi Oshiro and his partner Enrique Gastón Courtade. They were forced to get into a Ford Falcon and set off for an unknown direction with no return. That same night my mother, Beba, as everyone called her, my brother Leonardo and the person writing these lines were on the eighth floor of an apartment located on Avenida Acoyte …
Desaparecidos Nikkei: Reappeared in the Argentinian Conscience - Part 2
March 24, 2016 • Gaby Oshiro
Read Part 1 >> My family went through a difficult time. It’s not like you could go to the police and ask for their help in finding my father; they were complicit with state terrorism. I am not sure how my mom did it all, but she managed to find other relatives of desaparecidos. She would leave during the day and come back late at night. My grandmother Teresa and I would keep looking through the window shutters, waiting to …
Desaparecidos Nikkei: Reappeared in the Argentinian Conscience - Part 1
March 23, 2016 • Gaby Oshiro
On the night of April 21, 1977, fourteen armed men wearing civilian clothes went to my dad’s office and took him and another lawyer. They put him in the back of a Ford Falcon (the chosen cars of the military/police) and they sped off—that is what some witnesses said. That evening my mom Beba, my little brother Leonardo, and I were in our eighth-floor apartment on Acoyte Avenue. Something was boiling on the stove. The table was set, but I …
