On March 10th, at about 11:30 pm, I opened an email from my dad titled, "WE FELT THAT ONE!!!" He went on to write about two 7.9 earthquakes 255 miles north of where my parents live, just outside of Tokyo. Now, my parents have lived in Tokyo since 1972. My dad grew up near San Francisco, my mom in Los Angeles. They have plenty of experience with earthquakes. So, when they both say they've never felt anything like that before, I knew it was serious. I quickly switched my browser over to BBC and clicked on a video link. It took me a few minutes to realize I was watching live news. Initial reports were conflicting as to the magnitude of the earthquake but finally, it was agreed that the earthquake as actually a 9.0, the fifth largest quake in the world since records were kept. And there was no mistaking that tsunami.
I can remember where I was when the Twin Towers fell and I remember how I felt when the devastation in New Orleans became apparent. Those two events, in a strange way, made me feel American for the first time in my life. Tragedy has a way of drawing us together. But this, watching the water rise, this felt much worse. Japan will always be my home, though I may never live there again. Now, I realize it is my heart-land as well. And my heart broke as I watched towns and cities disappear.
In the days that followed, I checked BBC religiously to find out any news. My computer was always open to Facebook so that I could check in with my parents and friends who are still in Japan. It all got to be too much and I had to start imposing media fasts. The devastation is greater than I can imagine and from everything I've heard, the pictures can't capture the scope of it all. I was also growing increasingly frustrated at the emphasis placed on the problems at the Fukushima Daiichi reactor as it felt like people were losing focus on the survivors further north. I'm not denying the importance of shutting down the reactor safely nor the danger of any radiation leaks. However, I've grown tired of the constant fear-mongering in the press and, frankly, tired of America's "How will this affect me?" stance.
I wanted desperately to be doing something to help. But I knew that my Japanese language skills, which were never stellar, would only be a hindrance. I don't have the time to take off from work, I don't have the specialized skills to offer. I've been doing the only things I can do. I've been praying constantly and I've donated what I can afford to give. But I felt like that wasn't enough.
There was a sense that other people believed that, as a developed country, Japan would not need the help or accept the help that other countries would need if faced with a similar disaster. You only have to look at the photos of the devastation to know that is not true. They desperately need any help we can give.
Much has been made of Japanese stoicism and resilience. Hundreds of thousands of people are showing great courage and dignity in the face of tragedy. But that stoicism doesn't mean people aren't hurting and that they can get by on their own.
Even more than money, they need our prayers and support. They need to know they are not alone.
What can I do? What can I do on the other side of the ocean? How can I show my support and love for Japan?
In response, I've set up a fundraising page with MercyCorps and made a pin to wear in support of the survivors of the Tohoku earthquake. It's a simple loop of white ribbon with a red button. I will give a pin to everyone who donates $5 or more to the page listed below. I hope you will wear it and remember, "life is short and we have never too much time for gladdening the hearts of those who are travelling the dark journey with us. Oh be swift to love, make haste to be kind." (Henri-Frederic Amiel)
http://www.mercycorps.org/fundraising/lynelletarter
Please feel free to share this with your friends and family. Thanks for any support you can give.
Lynelle
Gambare, Nippon!
