to protect them from
summer rains and typhoon winds
we find out
Students Rebuild received two million cranes
for Japan
some cranes
will come back here
to make a work of art
for the people of the Northeast
maybe our cranes will return to Japan
BY DAY 79 ASP
Earth still moves at least once every day
Prime Minister Kan shut down a nuclear plant
near a fault line
people here
and there
march with signs
No nukes!
Protect the children!
Save Earth!
DAY 113 ASP
up there
people still need help
workers still struggle at the nuclear plant
officials still say we are safe
down here
Great-grandfather’s field is full of
sound and movement
crows squawk
starlings shriek
cicadas screech
heart-shaped taro leaves
as big as elephant ears
and
taller than Yuka and me
nod
bob
bow
golden-petaled sunflowers
as tall as we are
reach
shift
sway
bees buzz
zip
sip
east-facing flowers
swallows dive
dip
nip
high-flying insects
dragonflies dart
dash
clip
all-flying insects
I watch dragonflies maneuver
each glimmering wing whirls the air
these ancient pilots
were on Earth before dinosaurs
will they survive us too?
Yuka and I
lean into sunflower faces
breathe their sweet perfume and
count
lose count
re-count their young seeds in
clockwise and counterclockwise
swirls
something bigger than a bee hums
hovers
darts
from flower to flower
hoshihōjaku, a kind of moth,
Yuka tells me
looks icky and cute at the same time
she sees them in her grandmother’s garden
I tell her about hummingbirds
how they hum
hover and
dart
like
this moth
how their colors sparkle
brighten
change with each movement
each flutter
each breath
not like
this moth
but
this moth
matches sunflower colors!
we watch him until he flies away
then
begin the count again
lose count
re-count
we are eager to harvest
Shadow follows me everywhere
watches over me
and the sunflowers
he keeps birds away from the seeds
I keep him away from the birds
we hope we have many to pass along
we hope
they will someday help scientists learn how
to repair Earth
now
the fields are overflowing
with vegetables
the vegetable stand is overflowing
with customers
the one-stop shop is overflowing
with local farm vegetables
in a narrow section
ours are among them and
among donations trucked north
Father talks about quitting his job
to farm
I quit cram school and no longer
study for a top junior high school
I spend time in the fields
helping
it keeps me on my toes
13:34
even when Earth moves
below me
they say we will have aftershocks for years
along with other earthquakes too
who knows when Tokyo’s Big One will come?
we carry on
taking care of what is in front of us
taking care of ourselves
taking care of those who need help
I stay grounded in the folded
the rooted
the winged
the mended
the seeded
the needed
and the belled
my mug
holds together
with lacquer and gold dust
it is more beautiful
and stronger than before
it fell to the floor again and
it did not break
I can trust its mended cracks
but
I found another use for it
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The Great East Japan Earthquake and Tsunami on March 11, 2011 left us many stories. Hopefully there will be books and translations from the most affected areas. I chose to tell a story close to home.
Home alone in west Tokyo, I saw, heard, and felt all the boards of our wooden house jolt and groan. Earth rocked us minutes, hours, days, and weeks afterwards. Many foreign residents evacuated because of concern about the damage of the nuclear energy plant in the Northeast and concern about the big earthquake that experts say will devastate Tokyo.
I am a foreign resident. Papa is a Japanese citizen. Our children are American and Japanese. We did not want to leave. We have roots here. We lived with Aunt and Grandmother. One child was preparing to go to the United States for university in June. The other was finishing junior high and would start high school in April, down close to Tokyo Bay. We had dogs and cats. How could we leave and come back?
Earth kept shaking, and when it wasn’t shaking we thought it was shaking. This “earthquake sickness” was unsettling. We had no other hardships. How could we complain? Things were much worse in the Northeast.
We carried on. I continued to garden and photograph nature and our neighborhood farmer. I wrote poems, too. Not about aftershocks and the radiation concern. I wrote poems about what rooted me here, about living with a Japanese family for over twenty years. The poems became my middle-grade novel Somewhere Among, set during the tragedies of 2001.
Eventually, I started to write Beyond Me. I had taken some notes, and I had my Facebook posts, emails, photos, US embassy emails, and memories as reference. I read newspapers, essays, and books; referred to earthquake data and weather reports; and rewatched and discovered footage of the disaster and its aftermath. I had to relive every aftershock. Fortunately, I was more grounded this time.
from time to time
the Earth moves
some people in the Northeast
still
live in temporary housing
the company, government, and scientists
still
tell us
radiation levels are safe
still
sunflowers won’t save us yet
but
maybe someday
by observing
asking questions
taking action
with science
we will learn
how much is enough
and
someone will find
a way to clean Earth
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I start again with gratitude to Daddy, Carol Baker, Mrs. Eldridge, Mr. Richard Jenkins, Nancy Rinehart, and Jan Oppie, without whose early encouragement I wouldn’t have continued to write and share poetry and stories.
I am grateful to my children for skyping me away from the manuscript; to Papa and friends Mari Boyle, Kathy Schmitz, Kristin Ormiston, and Cam Sato for pulling me away to do fun things; to SCBWI Japan’s advisors Holly Thompson, Naomi Kojima, Mariko Nagai, and Avery Fischer Udagawa for always organizing an active calendar of events for us; to Mariko Nagai, Mari Boyle, Avery Fischer Udagawa, Emina Udagawa, and Cam Sato for reading and commenting on the story; to Mr. and Mrs. Toida for feeding our neighborhood and allowing me to photograph their work, fields, and vegetables over the years; to the Chikamatsu family for guiding me through ups and downs; to our dogs for grounding me and to our rescued cats for teaching me cat culture.
Letters and conversations about Somewhere Among from readers, family, and friends—especially Nancy Rinehart, The Austin Kirwans, and my mother—kept me going back to the table to finish Beyond Me.
Deep respect and apologies to the design team at
