Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts

Saturday, May 6, 2023

The Asian American Roots of Chicago Aikikai and aikido in Chicago

 Here's a little something I wrote up for Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month about Chicago Aikikai, the dojo where I practice the Japanese martial art of aikido. The original post may be found here.

“To practice Aikido fully, you must calm the spirit and go back to the origin.”

-Morihei Ueshiba, Founder of Aikido

Aikido, a martial way

May is Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, so it seems like a good time to turn back the clock and look at the Asian American origins of Chicago Aikikai and its place in bringing the Japanese martial art of aikido to the Windy City.

Martial arts are probably more ubiquitous than ever in U.S. pop culture, thanks to fighting-themed video games, superhero films and stunt heavy actioners like the John Wick series, and of course the multi-billion dollar industry that is Mixed Martial Arts (MMA). However, the success and widespread reach of these ventures has led most folks nowadays to associate the words “martial arts” solely with high-contact sports or violent maneuvers employed in imaginary street encounters.

Lost is the fact that, especially in the case of Japanese martial arts, there has long been a movement away from strictly studying practical fighting, and towards athletic and philosophical ends, not to mention spiritual and artistic (We’ll just skip their role in WWII militarism for now). Those whose only image of pre-industrial Japan is blood-soaked duels to the death informed by Rurouni Kenshin, the Zatoichi series and Akira Kurosawa period dramas might be surprised by the more than 200-year stretch of peace and stability known as the Edo period (1603-1868), during which most of the cultural touchstones considered characteristically “Japanese” in the West reached their pinnacle. Those would include flower arrangement, kabuki theater, ramen, sushi and budō (武道). Though usually translated as “martial arts”, budō  is more appropriately read as “martial way”, the dō being the same Chinese character for Taoism, as opposed to bujutsu (武術): “martial techniques” used in actual combat.

In that sense, it would be appropriate to regard aikidō (合気道) and other budō as an expression of Japanese culture; the “art” part deserving as much emphasis as the “martial”. And I think that is important to note in light of who first brought it to places in the U.S. like Chicago and helped it to thrive. For those early days of aikido were still a time when many Japanese Americans were not always welcome to participate in mainstream sports and other activities; or to openly engage in practices that allowed them to be Japanese.

Connections, personal and not

2023 will mark my 30th year training in aikido, most of which has been at Chicago Aikikai. I am also fourth-generation Japanese American (or yonsei) on my father’s side and spent my entire life as a resident of the Chicago area (born in River Forest, attending University of Chicago, and now living on the north side). However, despite this, and the fact that Chicago Aikikai began as a Japanese American organization, I have no legacy ties. I joined in 1995, after graduating from University of Chicago, where the head of the on-campus aikido club, the late Professor Donald Levine, introduced me. Prior to that, I started aikido while attending Waseda University in Tokyo on the Great Lakes Colleges Association/Associate Colleges of the Midwest one-year Japan Study program.

I’m not even part of the same group of Japanese Americans who started the dojo (Yes, we have subdivisions), my father having arrived in 1959 from Kauai to attend Illinois Institute of Technology. Yet its history is a point of fascination for me and does elicit that strange sort of pride one gets from something you might share an ethnic kindship with, even if there is no direct connection.

Sadly, that history is gradually being lost day-by-day, year-by-year, person-by-person. Like most of the long-standing Japanese American organizations in town - from the Buddhist Temples to the churches to the social service organizations – it feels like those earlier generations were primarily concerned with working and surviving (as they should have been). So no real organized attempt was made to preserve and archive memories with the passing of time. Coupled with that was the gradual transition of the dojo from a rather informal community-centric club to an officially accredited entity [black belt ranks come from Aikido World Headquarters in Tokyo, via its national umbrella organization Aikido Schools of Ueshiba (ASU)], which went hand-in-hand with the joining of non-Japanese. Today, I’m really the only person of Japanese descent regularly training there.

When I was in my 20s, there were still a few holdouts from the old days. Joe Takehara, a now-retired dentist noted for his ability to make his body feel as solid as concrete while maintaining a state of relaxation, and Yuki Hara, a grandmotherly figure who inexplicably seemed to attend every camp and seminar across the country. However, they’re both retired now, taking their stories with them.

I sometimes feel like Chicago Aikikai is akin to the Nisei Lounge, “Chicago’s finest dive bar”, located in Wrigleyville. Nisei Lounge (taking its name from the term for second-generation Japanese Americans) was founded in 1951 back when Clark Street was part of Chicago’s Unofficial Japan Town. The nisei aren’t around anymore, but the current owners have kept the name and mementos of the bar’s past. The bar is also occasionally a venue for Japanese American community events.

In any case, here is a very incomplete history of the early days of the Chicago Aikikai and its Japanese American roots cobbled together from anecdotes, late-night talks over drinks and a handful of interviews. Special shout-outs to Joe Takehara and Erik Matsunaga.

Dwight Sora

Chicago, 2023

NOTE 1: I have chosen to begin my timeline with key events in the development of aikido in Japan and Hawaii to provide historical context.

NOTE 2: Given the fragmentary nature of my sources, I welcome anyone with first-hand knowledge who reads this, spots inaccuracies and can offer corrections. If you have anything, please e-mail chiaikikai@gmail.com.

Early history of Chicago Aikikai (originally Illinois Aikido Club)

1920s -      Morihei Ueshiba creates aikido based on traditional Japanese martial arts.

1940    -      Aikido is officially recognized by the Japanese government.

1948    -      Aikikai Foundation and Aikido World Headquarters (Hombu Dojo) based in Tokyo, Japan is established.

1952    -      Hombu Dojo begins dispatching instructors overseas to spread aikido.

1953    -      At the invitation of the Nishikai Health Organization in Honolulu, Hawaii, Hombu Dojo sends instructor Koichi Tohei (1920-2011) to participate in a demonstration of Japanese martial arts. Impressed, many spectators take up training in aikido, first held on the grounds of the Nishikai. Tohei stays for one year, establishing many dojo in the islands, and making it a center for the art’s spread within the country. Tohei’s Hawaii students include instructors Isao Takahashi and his son Francis Takahashi. Tohei returns to Hawaii in 1955 and  1959 to further strengthen the aikido base he created.

1961    -      Norman Miyagi, a nisei (second generation Japanese American), becomes interested in aikido after reading a book by Koichi Tohei (most likely Aikido: The Arts of Self-Defense, 1957). Together with John Omori, they recruit other nisei by word-of-mouth and begin meeting privately to teach themselves aikido as a cultural pastime and for its mental and physical benefits. Rather than youthful dabblers, they are all established professionals in their 30s and older. In addition to Miyagi (an osteopathic physician) and Omori (an optometrist), the initial group includes Anthony Muranaka (a Chicago Police detective), Saburo Tanaka, Robert “Red” Sakamoto  and Joe Takehara (a dentist).

- The group begins meeting in the storefront basement of Muranaka’s three-flat at 3324 N. Clark Street in the north side Lake View neighborhood. At the time the area is known as Chicago’s unofficial Japantown, a community of Japanese Americans that formed after WWII including transplants from Hawaii but mostly former wartime camp internees originally from the West Coast. The floor is made of marble and only 12' x 15', and the group trains without a mat. Lighting comes from a single ceiling light bulb; when it breaks, class is over for the evening.

- Through their Hawaiian Japanese connections, the group eventually makes contact with Chester Sasaki, a second degree black belt from Hawaii who is an undergrad at University of Illinois in Champaign. Under direction from Tohei and Hombu Dojo, Sasaki becomes their first official chief instructor. He makes regular weekend trips (3 hours each way) to lead all-day Saturday and Sunday classes.

- The group leases a street-level storefront on the next block at 3223 North Clark Street. They construct their first mat using purchased two-inch etherfoam. The resulting surface is much admired and used as a model for mats at several other Chicago dojo.

- There is no sign. The only advertising continues to be word-of-mouth, and entry to membership is limited. There is a board which interviews prospective students to evaluate their character. Most prospects are allowed in, but only after watching a few classes.

- In November, the group files with the state of Illinois to incorporate as a non-profit.

1963    -      The group is officially incorporated as Illinois Aikido Club (IAC), thus establishing the Midwest’s first public aikido dojo. It adopts a circular logo symbolized by a circular mirror on a larger circular wood frame, forming part of the dojo’s shomen.

- Instructor Francis Takahashi (a childhood friend of Chester Sasaki from Hawaii) relocates to Chicago as a result of being inducted into the U.S. Army and is stationed here for two years. Sasaki is leaving the group due to graduating from University of Illinois and entering the Air Force, so Takahashi assumes the position of chief instructor.

1964    -      Koichi Tohei teaches two seminars at IAC as part of a one-year tour of U.S. dojo.

1965    -      Yoshihiko Hirata, a young sandan sent from Hombu Dojo, becomes the dojo’s third chief instructor and teaches until 1969, when he is inducted into the U.S. Army.

-      Instructor Isao Takahashi, Francis Takahahi’s father, comes to Chicago from Los Angeles to serve as chief instructor of IAC. Takahashi alternates between the two cities, teaching aikido and iaido in Chicago for two months, and then returning to Los Angeles for a month. In his absence, Saburo Tanaka and Robert “Red” Sakamoto lead class in his place.

- Cheryl Kajita (later Matrasko), future founder of Aikido of Skokie, begins training at IAC.

Late 60s/Early 70s          -             Jon Eley (future instructor of Chicago Ki Aikido) and Frank Knapp are among the first non-Japanese to join the dojo, beginning a shift in membership demographics away from a majority Japanese American group.

1970    -      IAC moves into a space in the Uptown neighborhood at 1103 W. Bryn Mawr. A former bowling alley that had been vacant for 20 years, it undergoes major renovation to create a dojo with a huge mat space - 45’ x 80’ feet.

1971    -      Takahashi decides to retire to California. Hombu Dojo is contacted and instructor Akira Tohei is recommended to serve as new chief instructor and travels to Chicago from his then-current base in Hawaii to teach a summer seminar and meet with IAC’s Board of Directors.

1972    -      Tohei relocates to Chicago to both serve as IAC chief instructor and establish the Midwest Aikido Federation (MAF). Isao Takahashi passes away on February 6 in Los Angeles at age 59 from stomach cancer.

- Charles Tseng (later founder of Lake County Aikikai) is invited to instruct at IAC by Akira Tohei.

1973    -      Kisshomaru Ueshiba, son of Morihei Ueshiba and second Doshu, visits Chicago for the first time and teaches a seminar at IAC.

1975    -      Tohei leaves IAC to form Midwest Aikido Center (MAC).

- Several guest instructors, including Terry Dobson and Robert Nadeau, teach at IAC on weekends.

- Mitsugi Saotome leaves his position as a senior instructor and Chief Weapons Instructor at Hombu Dojo and relocates to Sarasota, Florida in May at the invitation of local instructor Bill McIntyre. Saotome founds Sarasota Aikikai.

- That winter, Sarasota Aikikai hosts a 7-day camp starting on December 26 with instruction by Saotome and guest instructors Terry Dobson, Ed Baker and Frank Hreha. 85 aikidoka from around the country attend, 10 of which are members of IAC including Yuki Hara, Wendy Whited (later founder of Inaka Dojo) and Charles Tseng.

- Saotome establishes Aikido Schools of Ueshiba (ASU), an umbrella organization for dojo following his teachings.

1976    -      IAC becomes a member of Mitsugi Saotome’s organization ASU and Saotome sends his student Shigeru Suzuki to serve as chief instructor.

1981    -      Suzuki is forced to return to Japan due to health reasons. Kevin Choate is appointed the first non-Japanese chief instructor. He will hold this position until his death in 2012. He is succeeded by current chief instructor Marsha Turner.

Saturday, October 21, 2017


Promoting Peace with Urban Warriors
Reposted from the blog of Chicago Aikido Club (CAC).

(P.S. I'm leading these workshops)

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Chicago Aikido Club (CAC) will be partnering with Urban Warrior Fitness in Rogers Park to present two free Monday night introductory aikido workshops on October 30 and November 13. Both workshops will last 90 minutes and start at 7:00 pm.

The workshops will emphasize the use of aikido to develop mindfulness through movement, breathing and balance, as well the self-defense aspects of the art.

Both groups hope these workshops may be helpful to the local community, which is still dealing with the aftermath of a fatal shooting incident that took place on October 13.



Aikido Workshop at Urban

Monday, October 30 and November 13

7:00 pm - 8:30 pm

at Urban Warrior Fitness

1546 Howard St, Chicago, IL 60626

For more information, call (773) 754-7351, Ext. 0

Facebook event page

Monday, May 23, 2016

Reposted from the blog of Chicago Aikido Club.

Stay Calm, Parents


On Monday, May 9 and Wednesday, May 11, Chicago Aikido Club (CAC) member Dwight Sora gave a short demonstration of aikido for the parents and children of the Tampopo Kai play group at the Japanese American Service Committee (JASC) of Chicago.


Invited by Tampopo Kai organizer Naomi Negi, Sora (whose 22-month-year old son Jack regularly attends Tampopo on Mondays) gave a short explanation of aikido's history and principles, and then demonstrated some basic techniques. He was partly aided in his demonstration by fellow parent Shimako Asakawa Walker (a former student of Tatsuo Toyoda Sensei at Tenshinkan Dojo), as well as some volunteers from the audience.
Aikido Pushing



Thursday, May 5, 2016

Aikido Instructor Relives the Past

This is a repost from the blog page of Chicago Aikido Club, the dojo where I have been teaching and practicing the Japanese martial art of aikido for the past four years. 


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A member of the crew adjusts Joe Takehara's wardrobe
On Thursday, April 28, Chicago Aikido Club senior instructor Joe Takehara stepped back through time into his own past. Although the actual place was the Illinois Railway Museum in Union, Illinois, it had been dressed up with props and other items to recreate the moment when Japanese Americans were forced to leave their homes and board trains, eventually bound for "internment camps" set up in rural areas around the U.S. following the Japanese sneak attack on Pearl Harbor that kicked off the Pacific War and full-scale American involved in World War II. As a result of public wartime hysteria and racial intolerance, more than 110,000 Japanese Americans, nearly all who lived on the West Coast and including many American citizens, lost the homes and businesses they had spent lives building up, and would largely remain in the camps until 1944.
This was the set for The Orange Story, a short film in which Takehara plays a West Coast grocery store owner named Koji Oshima saying goodbye to his store before heading to the camps. The film is the first of four planned productions, and is being made in conjunction with an educational website for inclusion in curriculums at all levels of education.
The film is being produced by Chicago filmmaker Eugene Sun Park and his company Full Spectrum Features, in collaboration with fellow filmmaker Jason Matsumoto (a member of the Japanese drumming group Ho Etsu Taiko and is providing the soundtrack).
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A shot is lined up on set
In real life, Takehara grew up in San Diego, California, and was relocated with his family to Poston War Relocation Center in southwestern Arizona. When the internment ended in 1945, his family migrated east, following a wave of some 20,000 Japanese American resettlers from various camps to Chicago (he was fourteen at the time).
The Orange Story is also being shot in California, and is slated to be released this year. It has been partially made possible by a nearly $160,000 grant from the National Park Service, which allocates funding for projects commemorating and preserving Japanese American confinement sites.
If you are interested in more information about The Orange Story project, please contact Jason at jason@fullspectrumfeatures.com or 773.504.4107.
UPDATE
An official fundraising campaign has been launched for The Orange Story. If you are interested in contributing, please visit the campaign website at http://tinyurl.com/zqujy3s.
Please include any of these links to your family and friends if they'd like to learn more:
Project Website: theorangestory.wordpress.com/
Facebook: facebook.com/theorangestory/
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Group photo from the railroad shoot




Wednesday, March 2, 2016

Welcome to Pleasure Town

Mini9 - Bad Water

Here's something new. A couple of months back, an acting colleague put me in touch with the makers of the audio drama podcast Pleasure Town. They were looking for an Asian American actor to play a Chinese character in an upcoming minisode. I wasn't familiar with their work before, but now discovering it, it's a neat little ongoing project.

As described on their website, "PleasureTown is a story-based podcast told in serial form that details the history of a little-known, failed Oklahoma utopian society. The town’s history is crowdsourced, piece by piece, by the producers, collaborators and audience members." The whole thing is part of the WBEZ Podcast Network, which is also the home of the acclaimed true-crime series Serial.

So, check it out if you're interested in a little trip back through time to the old frontier. 

This also reminds me, I'm overdue on checking out my buddy Soren Fanning's Mischief and Mayhem podcast. If you're searching for some good, alternative political and historical discussion, considering making a visit.




Monday, November 23, 2015

Cool Stuff in Aikido: Techniques and Peace

I was recently sent a flyer from some old friends at Thousand Waves Martial Arts & Self Defense Center. My dojo, Chicago Aikido Club (CAC), did an intro demo and workshop there some time back. This time around they will be hosting an instructor I've long admired, Jamie Zimron on Saturday, December 5. Hopefully I can make it. 










Monday, November 9, 2015


Let Hands Do What Lips Do


Giving a quick shout-out to director Aaron Sawyer and Red Theater for their hit play R+J: The Vineyard, a reconceptualization of Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet incorporating American Sign Language (ASL) along with spoken text. It's been getting a lot of good reviews and good buzz, and hopefully I'll get around to catching it before closing.

Aaron actually attended one of the intro classes at my dojo back in July, seeking something different for the fight choreography in the show. Afterward I did some coaching with the actors in the early stages of rehearsal, showing them the fundamentals of contact and flow used in Aikido.

Unfortunately, per Aaron, a lot of my original work didn't survive the transition as the show workshopped its way through rehearsals to tech/dress and finally opening, as the cast made adjustments to the performance space and their actual prop weapons (Well, that and I wasn't around to do any additional tweaking). However, I'm still getting a "Combat Consultant" credit, and given that this show looks like it's pretty groundbreaking, that's a small issue for me. Congratulations to all involved!

Thursday, July 23, 2015


Reblogged from Chicago Aikido Club (CAC)

First Mondays Intro Class
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Starting next month, Chicago Aikido Club (CAC) invites all newcomers to try out the martial art of aikido the first Monday class of every month.
The class is absolutely free. No experience or uniform necessary. Just be sure to wear clothes in which you can move freely, and bring flip flops and an open attitude.
First Mondays Intro Class will begin on Monday, August 3, 6:00 pm-7:30 pm.
We also have a Facebook event page here.

Sunday, June 28, 2015

"I get knocked down, but I get up again . . . "

Celebrating my 42nd by getting down (and up and down, and then down again) during a momentous week for the U.S.A.

Getting tossed around by my teacher, Joe Takehara

After an incredible week of events that saw the upholding of the Affordable Care Act (ACA), the legalization of same-sex marriage and reflection on the notorious legacy of the Confederate flag, I thought I'd kick off my 42nd celebrations early (actual date: June 30) with a round of birthday breakfalls at the end of class with the Chicago Aikido Club on Friday the 26th. 

My fellow aikidoka in attendance that night (Marlon Fadragas, Cyril Oseledets, Joe Takehara, Hai Tran, Nguyen Tran and Andrew Vitale) kindly obliged to toss me about the mat.













Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Time to Include Everybody







Taking a moment to help a worthy cause. Local Chicago actress Emjoy Gavino has launched The Chicago Inclusion Project, an effort to encourage greater diversity in theater, including different people of different ethnicities, physical abilities and gender identities. On the horizon is a staged reading of William Saroyan's play The Time of Your Life at Victory Gardens Theater, which will hopefully be the first of many such performances. 

If you would like to contribute to this effort, The Chicago Inclusion Project currently has an indiegogo campaign to raise funds for its activities. 

Getting Ripped!


In-between weekends kung-fuing my way through The Big, The Trouble and The Little China with New Millennium Theatre Company and balanced against being a husband, dad and keeping up with Chicago Aikido Club, I'll be joining some of the good folks at American Blues Theater onstage or their annual Ripped: the Living Newspaper Festival

The one-night event is based on a 1930s Works Progress Administration (WPA) era program that brought actor/director Orson Welles, and playwrights Arthur Miller and Clifford Odets into public attention. A series of short 10-minute performances inspired and ripped from today’s headlines will be presented to raise American Blues Theater's arts education program The Lincoln Project in Chicago Public Schools

Ripped: the Living Newspaper Festival takes places from 7:00 pm to 9:30 pm on Tuesday, May 12 at the Greenhouse Theater Center, 2257 N. Lincoln Avenue on the downstairs mainstage. Tickets (which also include food and drink) are $5 and available at www.AmericanBluesTheater.com/tickets.




Friday, March 27, 2015


The Past is Present



Left: The 38th parallel at the height of the Korean War.  Right: Posing with my cousins after a cultural performance in Seoul.

I had a great time performing as part of HOME: A Festival of Storytelling III at The Side Project Theatre this past Wednesday, March 25. Thanks to my director Hannah Dawe for guiding my first, modest foray into solo performing, and to curators/emcees Kim Morris, Andrew Reilly and Adam Webster. Andrew in particular both blew me away with his own funny, poignant and vulnerable look at his road to adulthood, and paid me a very nice compliment on the story I submitted. 

The Side Project has one of the best intimate spaces in town. Its small size thankfully precludes large intimidating crowds, and though you end up practically face-to-face with the audience, the atmosphere had a nice, cozy salon feel, amply backed by Matt Wills' live music that night.

Given that fatherhood has certainly altered (if not altogether restricted) my time pursuing performance, I've decided to share my piece in its entirety here on my blog. I wouldn't mind getting another crack at presenting it live sometime, but for now, here it is . . . 



Yes/No

A language lesson. Yes, let’s start with a language lesson. Courtesy of my father’s side. My Japanese side. The Japanese word for home is ie. Like saying the letters E and A. Ie. It shouldn’t be confused with the word iie, which sounds very similar but has an elongated vowel sound, the ii, at the beginning. Listen very carefully: ie and iie. Iie does not mean the same thing as ie. Iie is the Japanese word for no. As in, “No, that is not correct,” “No, that can’t be done,” and “No, you can’t come in here.”

A history lesson. No, iie, an anecdote, courtesy of my mother’s side. My Korean side. In 2011, one of my cousins on my mother’s side of the family was getting married. Yes, he had gotten his fiancé to say yes, so he was going to be getting married in the city of Seoul, in the Republic of Korea, the ROK, or as most Americans know it, South Korea. A city that had been home to my mother and many of my uncles and aunts for most of their childhoods through adolescence, until one by one they made their way over to the United States for school and for work. Back then, when they left, South Korea was under the authoritarian rule of Park Chung-hee, a military strongman who had decided, yes, he’d be in charge, and seized control through a coup d’etat following the deposition of Syngman Rhee, the corrupt president installed by the U.S. after the Japanese were kicked out at the end of World War II because the U.S. felt that, no, Koreans weren’t ready to actually pick their own leaders and run the country by themselves. Post Rhee and under Park, South Korea wasn’t exactly the land of opportunity, so despite whatever love they had of family and country, my mother and her cousins decided that, no, they couldn’t stay there, and departed those shores for elsewhere as soon as it was possible. And away they went, finding homes in Hawaii, Ohio, New York, Massachusetts and in the case of my mother, Illinois, yes, right here in Chicago. Where she ended up saying, yes, and married of all things a Japanese man. Well, no, not exactly. A Japanese man from Hawaii. My father. So, yes, here I am.

Anyway, yes, there we were, my American-born cousins and I, then, in 2011, 66 years after the end of Japanese occupation, 58 years after the end of the Korean War, and 43 years after my mother said goodbye to my grandmother, her brothers and her sister. My mother admitted to me that back when she had left, the idea she would return to Korea would have been met with a firm no. And who could have blamed her? Yes, she had plenty of fond memories of growing up - of kind relatives and neighbors, of school outings and games, but also plenty of sad ones. Of bombs dropping out of the sky during the war. Of classmates lost or killed by stray ordinance. Of being sent home from school one day in 1950, told by the teacher, no, do not return until the government said, yes, it was safe, and it not being safe to return for three years. Of losing her father, my grandfather, a communist, unfortunately, who when it came time to choose sides, said no to the South, and yes to the other one, the one now called the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, or as most Americans know it, North Korea.


But 2011 though was a different story. Korea, South Korea at least, was booming. One of Asia’s “tiger economies”: fast, hip, stylish, moddish, expensive and cooler than cool. The land of Samsung and LG, the Hyundai and endless melodramatic soap operas exported throughout Asia and the rest of the world. Only a year before Korean pop musician PSY would release his “Gangnam Style” video online and become a bona fide cultural phenomenon. When my cousin Hojung sent out his wedding invitations to all of us, I think it was largely as a courtesy, the pro forma of an observant Korean relative, assuming that maybe one or two of us might make the long flight overseas. Much to everyone’s surprise, some eleven of us, including some spouses, ended up RSVPing yes, and on top of us many of our parents ended up saying yes as well.

It would be an unprecedented family reunion back in the old country. First one I could ever recall having in my entire life. And so, once the RSVPs were in and everyone’s travelling dates set, my relatives spared no effort in putting together a packed plan of action and activities, of tours and trips about this glittery modern Asian metropolis of bustling streets and shiny new buildings shooting up into the sky, glowing all colors at night like a Blade Runner-ish fever dream. 

One of many family dinners.

We viewed the exhibits of the National Folk Museum of Korea with its relics of the past, walked the grand grounds of Gyeongbokgung palace, window shopped in Namdaemun market and even went to the, don’t laugh, Kimchee Field Museum, where you could learn all there was to know of Korea’s national dish. There was Sunday church with my grandmother, still active in her 90s, at the very Methodist church founded by her father, my great-grandfather. A trip to a cat cafe, a dinner where we literally ate like kings at a restaurant that prepared dishes originally served only to Korean royalty, and, of course, evenings full of Korean barbeque and the sounds of norebang, or as most Americans know it, karaoke. Yes, it was great.


On one of these days before the wedding, ten we spent in total, a trip was organized to visit the Korean Demilitarized Zone, the DMZ. The 38th parallel, which cuts the Korean Peninsula almost exactly in half into North and South. The last true Cold War outpost, still very dangerous, just as potent as ever, but like almost everything else in today’s Korea, a site for tourists. Asked if we’d like to go, we all said yes. Why not, it’d be interesting.

My cousins and I gathered early in the morning and boarded a tour bus that would drive the 35 miles from South Korea’s capital to the heavily fortified border. As the road wore on, the buildings became fewer and fewer, the hills more and more numerous, and the road itself narrowing to the single highway running between north and south. Those hills looked bleak and bare, a reminder of the heavy deforestation wrought by the Japanese during their occupation, the heavy toll of bombing and battle as Seoul was repeatedly taken and retaken during the course of the Korean War by either side. The landscape continued to transform. Barbed wire fences began to appear as part of the scenery, as well as concrete structures straddling high over the road like bridges, but weren’t bridges. Anti-tank defenses our tour guide explained. If the north were to attempt to use the road to transport armor, these were rigged to explode and come down.
 
There were several stops on the tour. Including the Joint Security Area the JSA, the only place on the line where yes, North and South could see each other face-to-face and talk to person, but also where, no, you could not cross unless allowed. There were warnings given to our group. No, you could not take photos of the North Koreans on the other side, especially the soldiers. And no, do not point to them. We were even inspected for our clothing, because if we were dressed inappropriately, no we would not be allowed to approach the border. Apparently something to do with the North taking our photos and using us for propaganda if we appeared too poor or sloppy (No, don’t ask me, I can’t explain how that works).
Guards in the Joint Security Area (JSA)

There was something very strange about standing on that line crafted by generals and politicians decades before I was born, deciding that, yes, this was the best way to end the fighting, but, no, no one would ever cross this way again. The people on the other side were not me or my cousins, but they looked like me and my cousins. In fact they might have been other cousins, albeit distant. At some time, long ago, my grandfather crossed over that line, and no, never crossed back again.

At another stop there was a lookout, and using one of those tourist coin-op binoculars you could see across the border towards the city of Kaesong. Right now there’s an industrial park there, jointly run by north and south. A positive step towards goodwill between the two governments. But Kaesong was also home for several of my uncles and aunts in the Kim family before the war. Somewhere over there was the land where their old family home once stood, a traditional Korean home not unlike the replicas I had recently seen at the museums in Seoul. Somewhere over there was a place members of my family use to live and visit, but today, no, not any longer. Perhaps never.

At yet another stop we found ourselves at a train station. Nothing historical, a big modern facility as gleaming and high-tech as the one in Seoul. But quiet. Still. It was a remnant of a plan to eventually connect the train system of the South with that of the North, during a time when diplomatic relations were riding an all-time high. But then there were changes in leadership, and the new leaders disagreed and said no, and the project stalled. Looking at the station, my wife said it made her think of stories, the old kind of stories you read about. Like a story about a family leaving a place setting at the dinner table every night for a long lost relative, waiting, but that long lost relative never coming.

On the ride back to Seoul, it only then occurred to me that none of our older relatives had come along with us on the tour. I asked one of my cousins why. “No,” he told me, “They don’t really want to be reminded of this.”
The next generation

It’s 2015 now. Four years since that trip. About half a year since my son, my first child was born. Yes, I love him. And I love the fact that, yes, all things being equal, he will be able to go about and move about and see his family and the places he grew up unfettered and unfenced. That yes, if we hop on a train, say the CTA Blue Line, and I take that trip out West, waiting at the end will be my parents and the home where I grew up. That yes, I can walk with him on the streets of my youth. And yes, I can hop in the car and do the same on the streets of his mother’s youth. That yes, all the right faces are open and places are open, and yes, that is one of the happiest thoughts I can possibly have.

To which I say ne, which sounds like the English word “nay,” as in “no,” but in Korean ne means “yes.” 

So, ne. 
            Yes. 
                      Yes.
                               Yes.

Dwight Sora, January 18, 2015



























Thursday, March 19, 2015



I have something new on the immediate horizon. Wednesday, March 25 I will be taking part in HOME: A Festival of Storytelling III, an annual festival of rotating storytellers at The Side Project Theatre in Rogers Park. That night I will be joining two others in telling stories that each of us wrote with live musical accompaniment. 

This is a bit of a first for me. I had taken a shot at storytelling years ago at open mike nights held at coffee shops like Uncommon Ground, but had let it fall to the wayside. And I have friends and colleagues who regularly participate in 2nd Story, The Paper Machete and other local venues for spoken performance, but have never tried it myself.

I caught the call for story submissions about one week before the deadline, then spent that week hemming and hawing about whether to come up with something before cranking out my piece in 24 hours. The fact that the curators seemed to like it surprised me to no end. 

So, if you happen to be free that night, stop on by. Show starts at 7:30 pm; I'm the last of the three taking the stage. It's nothing huge, just a little piece titled YES/NO that touches on some of my Korean family's history, the Korean War and the legacy of the North/Side divide. 

The Side Project Theatre Company is located at 1439 W Jarvis Ave, Chicago, Illinois 60626. 
Tickets are available at www.brownpapertickets.com. Use the promo code HOME for discounted tickets.



Thursday, March 5, 2015

Reposted from the blog of Chicago Aikido Club (CAC)

A Touch of Zen

CAC members Dwight Sora and Patrick Miller explaining aikido at the Zen Life & Meditation Center of Chicago (photo by June Tanoue)
On Sunday the 22nd, members of the Chicago Aikido Club were guests of the Zen Life & Meditation Center of Chicago located in the western suburb of Oak Park. At the invitation of June Tanoue, who runs the center together with her husbandRobert Althouse,  club members Dwight Sora and Patrick Miller were guest speakers for that week’s “Sunday Morning Zen” session, which normally includes meditation, a talk and discussion.
After an hour of sitting and walking meditation starting at 8:00 am, Dwight spent the next hour explaining the history and principles of aikido, emphasizing the art’s focus on breathing, relaxing and non-aggression. At times, the explanation was supplemented with live demonstrations of basic technique together with Patrick. Much to the surprise of the gathered audience, the hour also included getting up on their feet and pairing up to try some simple exercises so attendees could experience some of the “feel” of aikido.  These included attempting the “unbendable arm” exercise, and a simple response to a katadori shoulder grab.
All in all, the morning proved to be very productive and informative according to the people attending. During a round of vegan and gluten-free “zen eats” after the session, Dwight and Patrick had an opportunity to socialize casually with the attendees and further speak about their own observations and experiences studying aikido.
In terms of the pleasant atmosphere and conversation juxtaposed with the flowing movements of the aikido techniques presented, the morning truly lived up to its advertised title of ““Stillness in Action – Action in Stillness.”
Attendees watching the presentation.
Dwight demonstrating what a peaceful mind and body does not look like
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