Influence
“Influence” is a grouping of elongated forms with insertions inflicted much like the wounding injuries members of families often suffer from but learn to endure.
For much of my life, I have struggled with the concept of family. Who is family to me? And who gets to decide: Me? Society? Tradition?
Most of my family lives halfway around the world in Japan. Their customs and language are difficult to learn and master. I fear they will never see me as a full family member.
I am gay. That affects who wants to claim me as a family member. For my family in Japan, my gayness is possibly one more shame my branch of the family brings to them.
And now, in my home, I find myself in a family with children who are not my own, but possibly mine.
My ancestors also struggled with the question of who is family.
My mom, born in Japan out of wedlock, was considered a disgrace and was rejected by her father’s family.
My father, growing up in St. Louis, lost his mother to cancer at 6 months. He was brutally teased by neighborhood kids that his stepmother was not his real mother, which forever altered his connection to her.
My great aunt disowned my father and his brother when they each divorced their wives (my mother and my aunt) in the same year. These wives became the caregivers for my great aunt until she died.
When I was in college over 25 years ago, I recorded interviews with my family members to get their perspectives on family history and how events affected family relationships and dynamics. I wanted to delve deeply into what had happened that caused so much dysfunction in our family system. All but one of these family members are now deceased.
The voices that accompany this installation are clips from those interviews.
For me, the internal trauma is the most intriguing part of each piece of the installation, and of each person whose voice you hear. I perceive these wounds aging with us into beauty and grace, and making us the unique, strong individuals we have become.
For much of my life, I have struggled with the concept of family. Who is family to me? And who gets to decide: Me? Society? Tradition?
Most of my family lives halfway around the world in Japan. Their customs and language are difficult to learn and master. I fear they will never see me as a full family member.
I am gay. That affects who wants to claim me as a family member. For my family in Japan, my gayness is possibly one more shame my branch of the family brings to them.
And now, in my home, I find myself in a family with children who are not my own, but possibly mine.
My ancestors also struggled with the question of who is family.
My mom, born in Japan out of wedlock, was considered a disgrace and was rejected by her father’s family.
My father, growing up in St. Louis, lost his mother to cancer at 6 months. He was brutally teased by neighborhood kids that his stepmother was not his real mother, which forever altered his connection to her.
My great aunt disowned my father and his brother when they each divorced their wives (my mother and my aunt) in the same year. These wives became the caregivers for my great aunt until she died.
When I was in college over 25 years ago, I recorded interviews with my family members to get their perspectives on family history and how events affected family relationships and dynamics. I wanted to delve deeply into what had happened that caused so much dysfunction in our family system. All but one of these family members are now deceased.
The voices that accompany this installation are clips from those interviews.
For me, the internal trauma is the most intriguing part of each piece of the installation, and of each person whose voice you hear. I perceive these wounds aging with us into beauty and grace, and making us the unique, strong individuals we have become.
