My Mother Listened to Me

Stuart K. Hayashi 

My late mother pulled herself up from poverty and abuse. She sent herself to university — she was the only person in her family who did — to become a certified government school teacher and join the middle class. As far as she was concerned, this was the American dream and her own Horatio Alger success story. And I must admit that what she did was indeed impressive.

Still in grade school, I told my mother about how there was something abhorrent about my being forced by law to go to government school and follow orders. My mother initially took that as ignorant disrespect toward her life’s work, a repudiation of her Horatio Alger efforts. But I persisted in explaining myself. I said that my learning was self-directed, and having to follow the teachers’ orders about coloring within the lines and applying the correct amount of glue to a paper was contrary to that. To my father’s credit, he chimed in that government schools, as they are currently run, are a “dictatorship.”

And my mother thought it over. And she said to me, “I hadn’t thought of it that way before. But you’re right.” And her saying that was such a revelation to me: that expressing myself mattered, even if what I said was met with scoffs and ridicule and everyone rejected me as outlandish. This was the first time that someone truly let me know that she cared what I thought. And, all these years later, I know that this is rare and not to be taken for granted.

My mother would sometimes even say that talking with me about these matters had made her wiser, and that the increase in her wisdom was on account of my success in conveying to her the idea that I intended. That is, she would say that I was right to try to convince her. There is nothing common about a parent proclaiming that about her child.

It is not as though my mother agreed completely or wanted to see through my radical ideas. She would go on being a government schoolteacher for two more decades before retiring. But I did not cease in letting her know of my contemplations on where  reform was needed. 

I went on about how true learning of skills is autodidactic by nature. The learner learns exactly because he knows he is the party that is most responsible for his present body of knowledge. I talked about how important it is that the teacher does not misinterpret the student as some passive receptacle into whom instruction must be drilled. No, it works when the student’s constructive pursuit of skill-building is encouraged and rewarded. I repeated how freedom is inherent to learning, which means trying to force education onto children is a contradiction and doomed to fail.

I never worked out a whole plan on implementing such ideas. For that reason, Mom continued to have her doubts. But the point here is that, unlike many other people, Mom was willing to listen to something new and unorthodox. That really inspired me to come out and write my ideas. Indirectly, she thus helped make it likelier that I would create this blog and impart the words that I do.

Mom-Inspired: My First Book at Age Six

Stuart K. Hayashi

When I was six years old, I was drawing. My mom, who died on January 12 of this year, took a bunch of papers and stapled them together. She smiled and said, “Now you can make a book.” I decided this book would be about the classic video game Space Harrier. In it, you control a red-shirted blond man who carries what looks like a bazooka. He flies over a ground that is in a checkerboard pattern, and he shoots at villainous aliens. Some of these aliens are centipedes with dragon heads (the centipede creature being made of identical two-legged segments made it easier to pixelate). You can see a PDF of the instruction manual over here. I enjoyed this process of drawing and writing a book. I therefore later decided to make another book I titled “Mr. What”. After that, I decided that I wanted to draw and write regularly to express myself. My mom had much to do with this.

I added the 1 to the “Space Harrier” title months later, as I did more books in this series. My book’s cover is based on the box art for the 8-bit Sega Master System port of this game. Note that I’m wearing a T-shirt with one of my more recent drawings, so that you can see where I was at age six in my drawing and where I am now. (I must admit my penmanship doesn’t look much different today.) The photos were taken the night of February 15, 2021.
 

These are photos that Mom took of me, again at age six, playing the 8-bit Sega Master System port of Space Harrier.

    

This is the cover. I did some follow-ups, making this a series. For that reason, months later I added the 1 to the title. 

The cover is based on the cover art for the box of the 8-bit Sega Master System port.

The first sentence is “Harrier is mad.” Harrier is the flying blond man. Here, he is fighting Squilla, a centipede with a dragon head. He starts off green. As you shoot him further, her becomes teal and then dark blue and then purple and then red.

 

Harrier shoots at villainous aliens. I wrote, “Harrier can kill they.”

 

Harrier shoots at villainous aliens whom I don’t think are actually in the game. I wrote, “Harrier is good.”

 

I don’t understand what I wrote here. I said, “Helicopter Mad.” I don’t know if I meant “Harrier is mature.” I might have meant that now he is madder.

 

Here, I meant “On Stage Two. It is hard.” I am referring to Stage Two of the game. The faces represent the villainous aliens from that stage, who resemble Easter Island statues.

 

This is the second book I did. I titled it “Mr. What.” The titular villain is pictured. He is holding a green whip. His odd name was inspired by Mrs. Whatsit from A Wrinkle in Time and also Dr. No.

My Mother’s Personalized Notes in Greeting Cards

Stuart K. Hayashi 

 My parents always made a fuss over the idea of buying greeting cards. I haven’t been a fan of this — it’s not as though the person buying the card drew the picture or wrote what accompanied it. I guess that, on some level, my late mother knew that that was my criticism, because sometimes she wrote personalized notes inside the cards.

This one is from Christmas 2018. The front of the card says “Son, when you’re around . . .” Mom added something to the front, so it says, “Son, when you’re around . . . I feel better . . .” 

On the inside, she wrote for me: 

Stuart, 

Thank you for all the thoughtful things you do for us, like taping shows you find that you think we’ll enjoy, etc. 

With love,
Mom + Dad 

We’re so lucky + thankful that you’re our son (so smart, too and an accomplished writer)!

When I read this again on February 10, I bawled my eyes out. But reading this was the first time since Mom died that I felt any renewed confidence in what I had been doing previously.

In 2017, my mother even gave me a Valentine’s Day card. This time, the words were written entirely by her.

Stuart— 

You’re such a good person and son that I wish I could give you all the happiness and everything you deserve. 

I wish and hope that someday soon you will find love with someone who deserves you. Since I can’t do that for you, please use his toward something that will bring you joy. 

Happy Valentine’s Day! 

Love,
Mom

Mom and Me

Stuart K. Hayashi

My mother died on January 12, 2021. On February 4, 2021, she would have turned 74. Here are some photos. 

Above is one from our old photo albums. Our preschool was going on a field trip to the Waikiki Aquarium. Very spontaneously, I said I wished my mom could come and chaperone us. To my happy surprise, she spontaneously decided to do so! Later in the album, I saw she took a photo of a Painted Frogfish. I was surprised. Until then, I thought I first saw the aquarium’s Painted Frogfish — which fascinated me — in the late 1990s.

And here is one of our later Christmases together:

My family is a ship. My mother was the captain who ensured everything was running in its proper order. I will be very privileged if I can go through life with the sort of confidence, strength, and wisdom that she did.