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“One night at a pub I heard the sound of traditional Okinawan folk music, and it was like being hit in the head with a hammer. The impact was like a bolt of lightning! The song told the story of how in life there are things that each of us is born to do. I realized that I had been trying to erase the reality that I was born and raised here on this island. Suddenly listening to the music my hardened heart melted and I was freed.”
Byron has captivated me with his story since we first met in 1999, two mixed race guys, one an elder researcher, the other a young searcher in the throes of an identity quest. Born and raised in Okinawa by a native woman and her family, his face is marked by the genes of his father, an American whom he never met and whose name remains a mystery. With looks that branded him as an American, associating him with an occupying army and military bases and making him a scapegoat for hostility, Byron's youthful life was full of strife and he had to fight to stay alive and maintain his dignity. He struggled to find himself, even venturing to Los Angeles to become an American rock star.
But when he had his great awakening he put away his electric guitar and devoted himself to the study of the sanshin, a 3-stringed snake skinned instrument. He set out on a road of discovery, immersing himself in the study of Okinawan traditional folk music of the islands. Music led him to language, as he wanted to understand the words of the songs he was singing. But years of neglect have taken their toll and it is a language no longer used in daily life, understood only by the middle aged, spoken only by the elderly. Byron felt anger at the society that did not value its own language, though he understood the history of incorporation into the Japanese nation, subsequent forced assimilation into Japanese language and culture, and self chosen accommodation, that had drastically reduced the use of the language. So he sought out elders and asked them to teach him.
“I have always been asked, ‘What are you?’ To show people who I am, I studied Okinawan language. I have been discriminated my whole life—“You’re not Japanese!” “You’re not Okinawan!” “You’re not American!” I felt like I was always out of place. So to make my own place, I used language. This face tells people that I am a Westerner, and should speak English. And people can't imagine I can speak Okinawan. But the reality is I was born here. I am Okinawan. I strongly wish people could understand my situation. By using Okinawan language maybe they can.”
Byron wanted to tell others, “I am not who I appear to be. Don’t judge me by this appearance; this face is a façade that fools you, it tells you nothing about who I am inside. Yes, there are Okinawans who look like me! And we are not “half,” we are not less, we are whole, just like you.”
Like many identity searchers, he recovered his "surrendered identity," realizing that what he sought was already inside him just waiting to be discovered. Now Byron's life is dedicated to being Okinawan and he is a passionate advocate for saving the language. Seeing the tremendous power in words, Byron diligently studied and mastered a tongue that is a symbol of ethnic pride in the face of assimilation to mainstream Japanese ways. His ability to speak this language loudly proclaims his authenticity. Byron defends his identity through language, wearing it as armor. He no longer has to keep saying, ‘I’m Okinawan!’ he lives it; he embodies it.
He has also become an accomplished sanshin player of the traditional music that elicits the soul of the islands and enables him to touch the hearts and raise the spirits of his fellow Okinawans. He has empowered himself by becoming Okinawan to a degree that puts others to shame. He even fights assimilation by proudly pronouncing his family name in its original form of “Fija,” rather than “Higa,” the way Japanese taught the islanders to say their own name many years ago.
The combination of language and music is compelling and Byron has empowered himself to walk proudly among his community. He was invited to write a regular column in a local newspaper introducing the language, taught on a radio show for several years, and is now an instructor at Okinawa Christian University. Byron’s proficiency in Okinawan and passion to help others appreciate its beauty and tragedy has taken him to other countries as an invited lecturer at universities in Germany and the U.S. Teaching about Okinawa, to both natives and others, and actively campaigning to preserve the language further strengthens Byron’s identity.
“When a language is lost a whole culture is lost! In a culture is dance, songs, pottery, clothing, architecture, food. Our language and culture have been lost through assimilation to Japanese and Western standards. Young people can't speak the language any more. I think it is natural that elementary, junior, high school kids learn Okinawan.”
Byron views his life in ways that offer visions of action instead of victimhood, introducing himself unabashedly as Okinawan, as someone who did not know his father and does not speak English. He puts his life on stage every day, visible on television, radio, weddings, events, and on the street. He has emerged on the national scene in Japan and even internationally with recent coverage in the Washington Post.
“I found out that I am not American despite having American blood and though I have Japanese nationality, I define myself culturally as Okinawan. That can be chosen and it has nothing whatsoever to do with the color of skin. One has to build societies where one can choose one’s culture and then all kinds of discrimination based on skin color and so on will be dissolved.”
Over the years Byron and I have maintained a brotherly relationship, mutually inspired by our desire to fight stigmatization, class prejudice and racism. I continue to tell his story because I believe that the message he received that night in the pub is one we all need to learn. We each are born to do something unique, and discovering that, accepting it, and courageously trying to live it is our challenge. In finding a "hidden wholeness" Byron is healing himself and his community. In his transformation he experiences vulnerability in such a way that he moves beyond himself and his own personal needs, connecting with not only all parts of himself, but also with others. Byron has become a cultural healer, with a felt responsibility to work in ways that bring people in touch with what is valuable, seeing beyond differences, to a deeper vision of common humanity.
Stephen Murphy-Shigematsu is a psychologist who teaches human development and ethnic studies at Stanford University, mentors adult learners at Fielding Graduate University and is President of Nichibei Care. He is the author of When Half is Whole, Multicultural Encounters, and Synergy, Healing and Empowerment.
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Photo by Byron Fija
