Charlie

Here we are at holiday season again in the U.S.  It starts with Thanksgiving.  Which is a day to give thanks for all that we have through the year.  It is based in our earliest history as a nation.  Really, one of the founding events for Americans as a people...the merging of Native American and European cultures.

But in reality, it has become nothing more than a day to party.  Just like every other popular holiday here.  And American party means noise, alcohol, and a general excuse to act rude and slightly debauched in the name of "good cheer".  People have already started buying enough food to feed a developing village for a week.  Some are having dinners tonight.  Tomorrow the real feasting will occur.  Some people going to 3 or 4 feasts.

Then Friday following has become a day to consume yet even more as people flock to stores and fight to buy all the bait and switch deals.  I have never been to a store on "Black Friday" but I did go to one on Sunday after, last year.  Things were literally thrown around like a riot had occurred.  This is "celebrating".

And I'll have to go to some obligatory feast of my own (I'll only do one)...deciding which family group will feel most slighted if I don't go.  I'll see people I don't know and don't have anything in common with, other than some tenuous genetic connections.  I'll smile and be cordial and make polite excuses for not eating foods I can't eat and probably get sick from eating some things just to shut people up.

Christmas specials have already started in stores, on TV, everywhere telling me what I am supposed to do and feel and most having no concept of what the holiday really is...or rather no concept of what that means...I'm sure most actually know what it is about.

So now starts my least favorite time of year.  I wish I could just not participate at all.  The favorite holiday season of my life was the one I spent in Japan where most didn't know about my holidays and fewer cared.  I was able to keep them in my own way, sharing  peaceful and enjoyable time with my family and a few friends we shared our traditions with.  But unfortunately, here that is impossible.

I'll try not to be obviously negative so as not to ruin it for others...but maybe it's worth ruining.  Am I doing those I care for a disservice by not expressing what is hollow and wrong?

I have made certain stands, but they are to little avail against the tide of prescribed consumption and obligatory "cheer".

So if you see me through this season, give me a little nod that you understand.  I know I'm not alone.  And if you disagree, that's fine.  You keep it your way and leave me to keep it mine.  You've got the whole culture with you.  The least you could do is give me a little space to salvage what good I can scrounge out of it without judgement or pressure.

Kogeteiru

This word means burnt. I recently watched a very cute series of 4 minute animated shorts (typical Japanese PSA style) called Kogepan, or Scorched Bread. It's about a jam-filled bun that was left in the oven too long. The series describes his life and outlook. He's sour and hard. Unsatisfied with himself. Unable to be sold, which is the dream of every bread. His crusty exterior belies a soft heart though. Kogepan makes friends with others who share his fate and even meets others who are worse off, yet more enlightened (Charcoalpan). He even learns that the pretty buns also have problems.

This is a beautiful example of the Japanese heart. The very fact that they would produce a series of PSAs designed to help others understand those who "easily give up and sleep when they're angry", those who are different and unable to be like the normal buns, indicates the inclusive nature of what it is to be Japanese. Not only does this series help others understand the "kogepan" among us, but it gives a glimmer of hope to the kogepan so they will not feel so alone and can find a reason to live.

I understand this well because I am a Kogepan, though gifted with the ability to communicate it where many cannot. This isn't unique by the way, many famous artists, writers, and actors are kogepan too. We can't change how we were made. We were exposed to a bit too much of the heat of life and that is not our fault. We would often prefer to be otherwise and try to scrape off the crusty parts, hide them under frosting, and we would prevent others from being burnt, even when it's romanticized into something attractive.

This is an important understanding that is often lacking in America. We can't help it. This isn't a blame shifting or shirking of personal responsibility. Chances are we Kogepan blame ourselves far more than others could know. What we need is acceptance. That's all.

This is why it angers me SO much when people downplay it, or make fun or offer candy platitudes. Mostly they don't even realize that I AM one of the Kogepan. And I know what it's like to barely be holding on, and how much pain and depression those kind of careless sentiments, even if well-meaning, can cause. Did they never think that the Kogepan might just have tried all of that!

For us Kogepan, we must remember that we can not understand the ways of the Baker, nor do anything about it, even if we could. What is, for us, simply is. But we can know this: the things that burned us have made us much closer to the Baker's heart. This is the essence, difference, and glory of Christianity. The weak and messed up are the most dear and most sought after by God.

And in the worst of times (the deep winter), just as the series concluded: in the cold, everyone's breath is white. And this, at least, is a sign that we exist. It's a small thing, but it's something to be happy about.