There is so much dialogue on how to educate our children. Let’s pause and think of how they can educate us. I wrote this letter to 5 year old Alan Goff in Jackson, Michigan, after he became an adult.
Dear Alan,
You were in kindergarten when we first met. I walked out of that
airplane on a hot blistering August Michigan day. I saw you,
a serious little five-year-old boy, waiting for me with a bunch of assorted
gladiolus in your arms. I recognized you from a snapshot your
mother had sent. You came to me and said, “Aloha, Frances.”
Your mother and I were also meeting for the first time. We
were pen pals since the seventh grade, so we practically grew up
together although miles apart. I lived with you and your family
during my year of teaching in Jackson, distinguished by being the
only Japanese person in the community and, for many, the first Japanese
they ever saw. Reactions were widespread from the minister
who blocked my path to offer me citizenship to your dad’s mother
who did not welcome me in her home.
I met you again, so to speak, when I had finished my year of
teaching and was returning to Hawai‘i. You said to me,“You don’t
look different anymore.” “Oh,” I asked, “how do I look?” “Well,”
you said, “you look like Frances!”
I have thought of that night, and often wonder, can all of
our prejudices and fears of the unknown turn us to our humanity
with something so simple as getting to know each other? Should
we keep our first impressions of others whose customs, appearances
and language appear strange until we are able to say, “You look like
you.” Thank you, Alan.
Love, Frances
from my book Echoes of Kapoho
