Nonogirl Radio

Operation Ivy

I got into this band late: 1992, but they opened up a whole new world for me. A world of sweaty pits with skankin' limbs, of danceable political songs and the sound of youthful optimism.

But Friday's closing of Ghosts of Little Boy at the National Japanese American Historical Society introduced me to the original Operation Ivy, which was a two bomb test of nuclear weapons on the Marshall Islands.

This event included a poetry reading with Janice Mirikitani (Yes, We Are Not Invisible), Nancy Hom, and a Japanese rapper, along with a moving short by Steven Okazaki (The Mushroom Club), and a detailed film (Trinity and Beyond: The Atomic Bomb Movie) about the extensive testing the US has done with our own weapons of mass destruction.

That's some heavy shit for a Friday night.

But as I've heard about over a dozen deaths (to people not that old) in the past couple of months, some asked after the screening, "How can we deny the affects nuclear testing has had on our health?"

The Right Buzz

I sat on a panel last week about Asian American media for Third Thursdays, which really let me explore why I spend most of my free time creating the radio work that I do.

During the course of the conversation a question arose about whether or not Harold and Kumar should be considered Asian American media.

Of course not! It's written and directed by white men (I think Jewish). But that shouldn't discount the important role the film plays in the dialogue about images of Asian Americans IN THE MEDIA as Jean points out in her Pop and Politics article. Two stoners, Asian American professionals, with the munchies.

This seemed like the perfect way to distract my friend from the recent death in his family: order in Thai food, open a couple bottles left over from NYE, and pop in the DVD.

A great idea, yes, unless you remember too late that H&K has a police car chase scene and the death in the family happened like this.

The Tape Recorder

This weekend, nothing better illustrated the power of one’s voice than the brief clip of Herb Holman’s mixed tape at his memorial service.

I remember when my grandma died and I was five. The reverend recalled his own grandmother’s passing and described, at this later date, how he could not remember the sound of her voice. But although those details fade, she was still in his heart.

At Herb’s memorial, we heard stories of his generosity, of his full-fledged support of his friends, and his delight in cooking. But what caught me by surprised was mention of his amazing funk and soul records.

Herb’s old friend from college, Henry Chu, joked about Herb’s transition from East to West Coaster and from undergrad to grad school. He talked about the mixed tapes they made, pairing up two turntables with a microphone back in the early ‘70s, pre-hip hop.

And then a brilliant audio moment happened.

Chu bust out a portable radio; held it up to the podium mic; and over the music of Derek Martin, we heard Herb’s voice (downloads an mp3 file), all New York style, all full of love, and all ready to move on.

These days, it may seem that technology gets in the way of real life, personal interactions. But in that moment, I know we were all thankful for that advanced technology of the ‘70s: the tape recorder.

American Fusion

Just the ticket: a romantic comedy with a hot Latino in East east L.A., an adorably dysfunctional Chinese American family, and cameos with Pat Morita and James Hong. See this if you want to believe in LOVE again. Congrats to Frank Lin on a great first feature.

And DAMN, I can't believe I was in the same venue as Esai Morales during the Pat Morita memorial and I didn't go up to see him in person!

White Culture

On my first day back to work, I woke to the news of miners trapped in the Sago Mine in West Virginia. The story captivated me: it’s a story about survival, class, community, culture, faith, and corporate responsibility (or lack thereof).

Yesterday, Youth Radio and Appalshop produced this commentary by Natasha Watts, who is from the third generation of a coal mining family in Kentucky. Her weighted decision to attend college and leave her hometown for a better job echoes the first generation, Mexican American protagonist in Real Women Have Curves. Her relationship to the mountains echoes Hawaiians’ connection to the ‘aina (land). And the limited employment options her community faces echoes the stories of Chinese immigrants (and so many others) who risked their lives building railroad tracks through mountains in order to send money back home.

My urban encounters with white culture is non-existent. Unless first generation or Jewish, the white folks I’ve talked with say they have no culture. To me, this void is actually the privilege of being accepted into the mainstream culture of America, which is infiltrating the globe.

But there is clearly a culture, a white culture, in Natasha’s community, and she recognizes that if she leaves, that culture might be lost on her children as they fall into the generic cultural influences of jell-o, Clear Channel, and Disney.

This commentary reminds me that perhaps it’s not a privilege that white America blends into American society, but rather the imposed loss of ones culture upon migration in order to fit in. And their relative ease to blend in does not make it any less painful.

For NPR News...

I finished up my voicing for the Crossing East documentary this morning. In addition to the documentary, the executive producer has been able to get some of our segments aired individually on NPR's show, Day to Day.

So for the first time, I read a script that ended with, "For NPR News, I'm Robynn Takayama." !!! Like, let me break out the champagne!

Tune in Tuesday when the story airs.

Welcome 2006

238 Sanchez, Thank You For The Wonderful Party!
Originally uploaded by Atsashimi.
Post-party on January 1, eating our good luck Ozoni.

New Years is my favorite holiday. I love reflecting back and looking forward.

Last year was a tough one starting with my own personal tsunami. The year proceeded with heavy hearts, myself buried in work, and the loss of too many gems in our community: Kayo Hatta, Pat Morita, Sox Kitashima, and Chris Iijima.

But good things are around the corner.

Our 238 Home is strong enough to throw a party again. I'm sure we can get rid of the mice and deal with the cosmetic problems that have existed since I've lived here.

And I'm almost free of radio project responsibilities, which means more time to play in spontaneous social outings (like to Gochi tonight!) and personal projects (time to really get a podcast going).

So despite our earth rebelling and our fellow citizens remaining complacent, I'm hopeful. I know that when our own souls are nourished and strong, we make better warriors. So bring it on 2006. I'm ready!