Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Reflections

I walked into Japantown in late August with the mindset "i'm going to report the hell out of this neighborhood!" I quickly realized, however, that I had no idea what to do, what questions to ask or where to ask them. 

There is more than a century of Japantown history through which residents there view the present. This fact confronted me like a tidal wave as I stumbled through my first attempts at interviewing. After talking with people, it became clear that every current struggle or triumph in the neighborhood is linked to the past. 

In the short time I've been covering Japantown the Better Neighborhood Plan has stalled, the renovation of the Japan Center has continued to loom and may destroy small businesses, New People opened, and both Japanese-American newspapers based in the neighborhood have folded. 

The fabric of the neighborhood appears to be coming apart at the seams. But after talking with people for just three months, I've realized that if the future of the neighborhood was secure, that would be considered out of the norm. The whole history of Japantown is defined by a rugged struggle for survival, and it's inescapable during conversation about the current state of the community. I've simply caught a glimpse of these tireless efforts since August. 

A Beverly Hills investment company bought the economic core of the neighborhood in 2006, and residents are fighting to protect their future through the Better Neighborhood Plan, which already been more than a two-year affair. 

The 60-year-old Hokubei Mainichi folded Oct. 30, and former senior editor J.K. Yamamoto continues to update the Website everyday, despite not being paid. 

The Nichi Bei Times folded in September and former employees launched the Nichi Bei Foundation, which produces a weekly paper, to keep citizens informed. They, too, are working without pay. Kenji Taguma, president of the Nichi Bei Foundation, told me a story about his 6-year-old niece giving him a $6 donation to help continue publishing the weekly paper. 

"It would have been easier to quit," Taguma said. 

For me, that statement is tailor-made for Japantown. After internment during World War II, it would have been easier to quit, but residents didn't. They returned and rebuilt Japantown. After the 1950's and 60's redevelopment, which razed houses and cut the neighborhood in half with an 8-lane Geary Boulevard, it would have been easier to quit. They didn't. 
The upcoming renovation of the Japan Center could be a third displacement, but residents are still not quitting. 

I'm privileged to have had the experience of reporting on Japantown, and I'm astonished by what I learned in such a short amount of time. I dreaded approaching people and asking them questions three months ago. I now feel confident walking up to anyone or into any building and getting answers. And I learned that in Japantown. 

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Japanese-American press struggles to survive


Leaders from the two failed newspapers in San Francisco's Japantown held a community forum Sunday afternoon to discuss the future of the Japanese American press. 


Former employees of the recently closed Hokubei Mainichi were there and discussed the demise of the Hokubei, but most of the forum focused on the Nichi Bei Foundation


The newly formed nonprofit foundation publishes the Nichi Bei Weekly and was formed by former employees at the Nichi Bei Times, which folded in September. 


Kenji Taguma, editor-in-chief of the Nichi Bei Weekly, explained that the Nichi Bei Foundation is one of the first models of a paper changing from a profit enterprise to a nonprofit. Taguma, along with the rest of the staff of the Weekly are volunteering their time for the paper, which has a circulation of over 2,000 subscribers. 


The foundation has made attempts at innovation, primarily new special issues, since the transition to a nonprofit. The staff publishes a special green issue that has to do with the environment and global warming. They also publish a special multi-racial issue, a health and wellness edition and an anime and manga issue. 


But the foundation is still seeking donations and subscriptions so that they can continue to publish. 


Former Hokubei senior editor J.K. Yamamoto continues to volunteer his time to update the Hokubei Website, although he admitted "I should probably be looking for a job." He explained that if the Hokubei board can find funding the Website will continue to exist, but he ceded that the online edition does not help older Japanese-Americans who don't use the internet. 


Former editors for both the Hokubei and the Nichi Bei Times cited the lack of ad revenue and subscriptions as the primary reasons for the publication's failures. Executive Director of the Japanese Cultural and Community Center of Northern California Paul Osaki has noticed the effect the papers closing.


"When I run into people in the Bay Area, they have to ask what's going on because they're not receiving that information," Osaki said. He hoped that the community could come together and help the Nichi Bei Foundation get on its feet. 


"Civilizations existed and vanished," Osaki said. "Fifty years from now a student will try to trace the Japanese-American community and there will be no documentation. This is how we stay connected as a community and we're losing that right now."

Saturday, December 5, 2009

What is Japanese and Japanese-American culture?

After encountering a myriad of Japanese cultural vignettes over the past three months, I've come to the conclusion that to define that culture is impossible, but here is a brief account of people attempting to do just that in San Francisco's Japantown.

It quickly became clear that it depends on who is speaking, and more precisely, what the speaker's age is.

At the risk of oversimplification, there are roughly two camps; one champions the traditional and the other side promotes the new.

"Young people like anime and the older people are more traditional," said Linda Lum, the owner of the Japanese tableware boutique Daikoku by Shiki. "And everything is in Japantown."

Much of the battle between the two culturally divergent paths are brought to life in Japantown and represented by two buildings on opposite sides of Post Street. The 40-year-old Japan Center on the southern side of Post houses shops related to kimonos, taiko, origami, samurai and traditional Japanese cuisine.

New People, on the other hand, is a new building on the northern side of Post Street that features all the latest in Japanese pop-culture.

Even the architectural styles are opposites. New People features a 3-story glass facade that allows the sun to illuminate the inside of the building. The Japan Center shuns natural light and is built with all the stores facing inwards onto sunless halls.

A difference is also visible when comparing the crowds that frequent each location. An older crowd is more prominent in the Japan Center. Meanwhile, on a recent Saturday when New People was opening a new art exhibit -the Tokyo Creators Market- the crowd consisted primarily of younger faces.

Mika Anami, the general manager of Superfrog gallery, was overseeing the opening of the exhibit and reflected on the state of Japanese culture.
She explained that recent Japanese cultural developments mainly originate in Tokyo, a city that is "culturally fast-paced and always changing like New York City on coke," and spread from there. But nothing of what Americans receive is truly authentic, Anami explained, because to be noticed in the U.S. one has to be "big in Japan." New People is trying to change that by importing movies, art and fashion so visitors can catch a glimpse of what's happening in Tokyo.

Many people have picked up on these cultural strands from Tokyo. Every Saturday afternoon cosdancers (people dressed as anime characters that dance) can be seen performing in the Japantown Peace Plaza. Maria Watanabe, an employee at Japan Video and Media in the Kintetsu Mall of Japan Center, consistently appears every Saturday because she wants "to show that Japanese culture is cool and speaking Japanese is cool too."

Takeshi Onishi, Watanbe's boss, organized and integrated the anime portion of the annual Cherry Blossom Festival Parade. He calls anime "a big part of contemporary Japanese culture."

Others aren't so sure. A store that is viewed as most representative of the traditional aspect of Japanese culture, according to Daikoku by Shiki owner Linda Lum, is Dentoh: The Japanese Tradition.


Dentoh, which offers classes in calligraphy, origami, and sells merchandise like papier mache rendtions of traditional Japanese masks, kokeshi (wooden) dolls, traditional kimono and happi coats, is owned by Seiko Fujimoto.

"There's a generation gap," Fujimoto says about the rift over the definition of Japanese culture. And she is appalled by the dancers dressed like anime characters performing their routines underneath the Japantown Peace Pagoda, which she calls "sacred."

Fujimoto also sits on the executive board of the Cherry Blossom Festival, an annual two-week event in San Francisco's Japantown celebrating Japanese heritage, and she does not appreciate the anime portion of the parade.

"Anime is not a part of the culture we want to people to know about," she said. "I think they should make their own festival."

Others, like Linda Lum, may not be interested in anime but understand other's interest, as well as respecting the business aspect of the entertainment.

"I don't mind," Lum said. "[Cosdancing] is entertaining, and if it brings younger people to Japantown and the Cherry Blossom Festival parade that's good for business."

Thursday, December 3, 2009