Thank You, Wisteria Chugakko

Making friends felt like a challenge when I first started attending the Gardena Buddhist Church. Not only was I an extremely shy kid, but I was also the only student in my grade from when I first started attending in fourth grade to all four years of high school. Making friends felt like a challenge especially when I would attend Sunday services and Dharma School (Sunday School) and there were no other friends my age to sit and talk with. On top of that, religious ideas still felt foreign to me since–unlike other students I met at the time–I was not introduced to Buddhism until the fourth grade. Besides my Sunday school teachers and the various friendly people my dad befriended, I never really talked to many at the temple. I would usually follow my dad around and oftentimes, I felt like his shadow; I simply followed him wherever he went and would not speak unless spoken to. Not to mention, I hated that I had braces and did what I could to make myself appear smaller. My dad compared me to Violet from the movie, The Incredibles. He still reminds me that at one point—similarly to Violet at the start of the movie—my hair would cover half my face. I felt shy because I thought I had something to be embarrassed about. I think a part of me hoped my hair could hide my fear of judgment. After all, it seemed as if everyone already had friends to talk to and everyone had a strong sense of culture and religion. 

However, things changed the summer before eighth grade. My dad got involved in creating a math class for the inaugural year of Wisteria Chugakko, a summer middle school led by Headmaster Reverend John Iwohara and Principal Charlene Hirotsu. Wisteria Chugakko offered an abundance of classes, all of which were taught by volunteers, many of whom were members of the Gardena Buddhist Church. Initially, I was my shy self who did not speak unless spoken to. Slowly but surely, with every class and every lunch period, I began talking with newly made friends.

I remember walking into the kitchen for my first cooking class to see raw chicken, flour, egg, and panko ready in front of me on the counter. The teachers smiled at us as they demonstrated how to prepare the chicken before frying. My partner in making the katsu was kind and we made small talk as we followed the instructions and watched the oil bubble and the chicken cook. I was my quiet self as usual, but with every minute passing by, I felt my nerves begin to evaporate the more we talked and smiled. I also had fun getting to know some of the instructors whom I had seen many times at the Church before, but never learned their names. 

One of my favorite things about the cooking class was that we got to share our creation with all the other teachers and students. Part of me found it cool that I got to cook my own meal, and the steps were not hard to repeat. It was my first time making chicken katsu and certainly was not the last. After this summer, I would occasionally cook dinner for my parents and my go-to dish was the same chicken katsu recipe I learned from this cooking class! But the best part of all was that I truly felt there was a friendly face in my eighth grade class to talk with.

Another class I remember fondly was sewing. I had never used a sewing machine before, and never imagined myself learning to make an apron with one. We also got to be creative in learning shibori, a Japanese form of tie-dying, which we used to decorate pieces of fabric later sewn together to make potholders.

Other classes I remember enjoying were Ikebana (Japanese flower arranging), Taiko (Japanese drumming), and math (I had to make sure I mentioned my dad). Every day, there was something new to learn and every night, I would excitedly tell my parents about it during dinner.

My time in the eighth grade class felt sweet, but too short. I am thankful that the headmaster and principal extended my time at Wisteria Chugakko by establishing the Wisteria Leadership Program (WLP). My friend from the cooking class also applied. We even had to pass an interview with Reverend Iwohara and Principal Hirotsu; as I grew older, I now look back on this experience as valuable preparation for the future. As students in the WLP, we assisted teachers and planned events. We had not started our first year of high school, yet we were gaining knowledge and understanding for how to compose ourselves for interviews, events, and public speaking.

We also got to learn in our own set of WLP classes. One of these classes was about Buddhist lessons, taught by the headmaster, Reverend Iwohara. I learned to be a deeper thinker thanks to his class. Everything I did not fully understand about Buddhism became life lessons I could understand. These lessons acted as a guide I could look to whenever I needed help. They helped me become the best person I could be.

As I reflect upon my Japanese American identity, I realize that a lot of my cultural understanding and knowledge comes from what I have learned at Wisteria Chugakko. I learned a lot from the seasoned members of the church, and these lessons have become something I can pass on. Those who contributed to Wisteria Chugakko went from being friendly faces to familiar faces I could always say “hi” to. I never thought my hairstyle could be symbolic of growth, but one of the instructors commented on how she could actually see my face now; I tried to always keep my head up. Perhaps, like Violet by the end of the film, I grew to be more confident in myself. More recently this past summer in 2024, I returned to be a Yearbook Editor, so that the students could leave with a physical album of their memorable summer.

I thank Headmaster Reverend Iwohara, Principal Charlene Hirotsu, and all the teachers for creating a program that, if it is not too cliche to say, changed my life. I learned to be myself and I also learned about myself. I was immersed in Japanese culture and Buddhist teachings which helped me feel comfortable in my own skin. Like the wisteria plant, all the teachers and the new friends I made were like the branches reaching out to me. I allowed myself to be embraced by these branches which helped me embrace my community and my Japanese American heritage.