The cold wind raced over the dormant fields. In the spring, the field will be covered with signs of new life but for now there was nothing more than a few hungry mice braving the chill for food. The wind’s icy fingers tapped lightly on the windows of an old farmhouse but were ignored by the family huddled around the kitchen table. The wooden table was old and scared but shone with polish and love. The people at the table eyed each other suspiciously over the cards each held in their hand, cups of green tea gone cold at their elbows. Each person eyed each other as if trying to read thoughts. No one spoke for there was too much at stake. It was “ameba” so the people who lost would have to pay double. When the last card was thrown the youngest, no more than eight, threw up her arms and yelled “fekeru!” With good-natured groans, the other two players shoved sixteen dimes across the table. The eldest woman shook her head and said to her son, “You’re going to have to watch that one, Katchi”. Katchi looked over at his grinning daughter and rolled his eyes. While a small smile he shuffled the cards and dealt the next round.
Much of my cultural identity has come from sitting around a kitchen table. My Grandfather sang German drinking songs, while my Mother taught my siblings and me how to use hashi (known in the United States as chopsticks), I played Hana (a Japanese poker game) with Grandma, Auntie Sachio, Uncle Yukio, and my Father while they discussed farming (losing money to me). These small individual events have contributed to my concept of cross-cultural identity. More importantly they have created in me a perception of who I am, what I have come from, and what I will pass on.
Currently, I am exploring the process of how people pass on their cultural identity and how it is assimilated our everyday lives. There are many different ways that we as human beings gain a cultural identity; be it through our ancestry, location, foods, travel, etc. However, I believe that there is one key location where the majority of culture is passed on—the table. The act of sitting down at a table -it could be any table- and having a conversation with another is essential in passing on and recieving culture. It has been in my experience that the table is one of the few places where cultures can cross and meld harmoniously.
As it is my belief that the table is a bridge between food, generations, and cultures, it will be the main focal point of my exhibit. I plan to show videos on a plain kitchen table, a table that could be found in any given household, that deal with my cultural identity. Some of the videos will talk of the Japanese internment camps, others will speak of my Japanese culture; there will be stories from my German side as well. However, most of the videos will speak about a meshing of cultural identity, for that is what is in me.
I am not from Japan nor am I from Germany. I am Hapa (Japanese for “half-breed”) and I am American. As such, I have a hybrid of cultural identity. I eat sashimi and nori. I even know how to make sushi. Every year our family gets together for Mochitsuke (a traditional Japanese festival of rice desserts). Every New Year I eat sweet beans and drink sake, also Japanese traditions. I cannot buy, make, or do things that involve the number 4 or 7 due to the unluckiness of those numbers. Onlookers might think this is neurotic but in fact it is part of my Japanese ancestry. I would like to say that I am more comfortable with hashi than a fork, but that would be a lie. Why? Because I am Hapa. I like Friday Night Salad (a Weber’s tradition) and I can play cribbage with the best of them.
Thus, I will create films that involve cross-cultural identity, to do justice to what I, and others, have become. My final project will look at the roots of my cultural identity but I hope that it will reach other people as well. I hope to make people re-evaluate what is cultural identity, how do we make it, and how we pass it on. In our world, there is so much strife between cultures but if I am an example of how cultures can come together to create a new culture then there is hope. This hope will be represented in the form of a gift that the audience can take with them if they choose to. To take it home, look at it, hold it, and think about how it could apply to their life.
