Japan's Thanksgiving

 

Tomoko is thankful that she immigrated to the United States and became a U.S. citizen. She is thankful for her family and friends, including her musical family. Before she left Japan, that country has established its own national Thanksgiving Day on November 23, more specifically called Labor Thanksgiving Day: kinrōkanshahi.

Both the U.S. and Japan have celebrated fall harvest festivals for centuries. Japan’s harvest celebration dates back over 2500 years ago, and more formal observances are almost 1500 years old. The tradition celebrated the year’s hard work, and the harvest was dedicated to kami (spirits). The current form of Japan’s Thanksgiving was established in 1948, and focused on human rights and expanded worker rights.

While both countries give thanks, in Japan the holiday focuses on thanking workers and their good labors. Children sometimes write thank you cards to local public workers such as firefighters and healthcare workers. In that sense, Japan’s Thanksgiving is more political than the U.S.’s.

Turkey is not on the plate on Japan’s Thanksgiving Day, but families do get together and enjoy each other’s company. Fireworks also mark that holiday in Japan.

As a lifelong hard worker and distinguished teacher, Tomoko deserves our thanks – every day.

Laboring for Love

Today is Labor Day, and Tomoko exemplifies a strong work ethic. Referring to Millet’s painting “Man with a Hoe,” Tomoko notes how the worker holds his body. “He is tired after a day of harvesting. He is braced against a stick to hold himself up.” Tomoko knows the feeling of a long day of hard work.

 

Tomoko has never been afraid of hard work. She began teaching piano lessons as a teenager – and sixty years later she continues to do this, sharing a lifetime of experience and expertise.

 

Tomoko also knows that learning how to play the piano requires dedicated practice and work. When a piece has been mastered, playing it can bring instant gratification, but getting to that point of fluid performance can demand much time and effort, and in the process it can feel as if that day of mastery, those positive results, will never arrive. “Practice is like gardening,” Tomoko asserts. “You need to do it every day and pay attention to all the details.”  She adds, “It requires patience. Sometimes you don’t see the growth for a long time, but it is worth the ongoing effort.” Tomoko remarks, “Many people don’t plan for practice. Since I was 12 years old, I have planned time for practice.” That kind of discipline exemplifies Tomoko’s attitude to music and work.

 

Tomoko also passed this work attitude to her daughter Beata. Beata began serious skating at age 6, but didn’t compete until the U.S. Nationals, rather perfecting her form first. Tomoko supported Beata’s persistent interest throughout the school years, driving her to practice, and paying for lessons through teaching piano. Tomoko notes, “Both ice skating and piano require lots of sacrifice. Even one week without practice will be embarrassing.”

 

Performance requires even more focused work as the pianist – or the ice dancer -- has to analyze and master each piece.  The performer has to over-prepare so that the physical action is almost automatic, and the spirit of the work can be freely expressed. Both the stress level and the level of accomplishment are higher. But the payoff and the exhilarating feeling are worth the effort hopefully. The performer lives for this moment, and is IN that moment. All the components are there, "But reaches a higher energy plane," Tomoko explains. The playing itself is both automatic and intentional, precise and personal, deliberate and freeing. It is ultimately a universal yet intimate conversation with the audience. It is not like daily life. It is a heightened reality. Tomoko asserts, "It can be a mystical experience. An 'out of this world' performance."

 

So work becomes play, play that is hard earned.

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A full day's work

Referring to Millet’s painting “Man with a Hoe,” Tomoko notes how the worker holds his body. “He is tired after a day of harvesting. He is braced against a stick to hold himself up.” Tomoko knows the feeling of a long day of hard work.

For Tomoko, morning brings light. Early morning is her favorite time of day; Tomoko sometimes wakes as early as 3:30am. “I tell my students that two hours of practice in the morning is the best start.” Tomoko remembers when she was a young girl in Japan, taking a street car and bus to arrive at school by 6:30am so she could practice before classes began for the day. “The brain was so fresh for school.”

These days Tomoko often spends part of her morning in her garden, where she feels close to nature. A garden is also full of potential. Tomoko likes to bring order to her natural surroundings: from a jungle to a lovely garden. In the same way, she brings order to sound as she works the musical “rows.” She sees the garden as a metaphor for musicians; both take much work and much patience. “Labor is labor,” says Tomoko. Both require connections, and both offer ways for self-expression. The rewards can be immediate, as when planting or weeding – such as working through a particular section of a composition – and sometimes it takes years to see the results.

Tomoko concludes, “When I worry, gardening takes care of that stress, like playing music. Both focus the mind, eyes, and hands to forget problems.” And at the  end of the day, Tomoko has worked hard, “and I sleep well, satisfied.”