The Lima Street House

From Okinawa to Maui to Oahu to California: this is the legend of my very small clan. The Lima street house is the gathering place for my family 5 generations deep.  We are Japanese. Add a dash and make that Japanese-American. Add my mother’s background and I am English-German-Jewish-Scottish-Japanese-American. Depending on who is asking, I occasionally answer that we are Japanese-Hawaiian but that has a tendency to bring up a dozen or more questions. After marrying my Chinese-Panamanian-American husband, my daughter checks every box on the ethnic inquiry forms except black and native american.

There is no where to go where we can find a people we truly belong with. We must be like a Chameleon, blending in and adopting our surroundings to fit in. We must live like God’s people in tents, staying faithful among cultures not our own. Culture is not our identity. Our appearance does not define us. Like the Lima street house, I hope that our faith will unite us generations deeps.

Below are images from our visit to introduce our daughter to family and dear friends in Oahu.

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