Buraku Problem Basic>People

The Buraku Liberation Movement and I

Sachiko Shiotani

The road I have traveled

Blaming the parents

I was born on March 14, 1945. My parents had not submitted their marriage registration. I found it when I went to get a copy of my family registration that was needed for taking the university entrance examination. I found out that on my registration, my father had acknowledged paternity, and that I was registered as "illegitimate." My parents cannot read or write. For someone who cannot read, a letter is something to be feared. It cannot be shown to just anybody, depending on the content. My parents decided that it was better not to take notice of it, and threw it away at once. The same happened to the notice of admittance to school. Seeing a child in the neighborhood, who was born around the same time I was, going to school, they hurriedly took me to one. At school, teachers asked my parents when I was born., and told them that I should be admitted to school. I started going to school from the following day. This meant that I entered school 40 days after the beginning of the term. This was 52 years ago.

I cannot forget what happened on the first day I 'debuted' in the outside society. This was during my first conversation in school with the girl sitting next to me. She asked where I came from, and I answered, "From M." She asked again, "From the good M or the bad M?" Everyone believes that the place where they live is good. I responded "The good M." Then she asked whether it was a place where there was an abattoir. There is an abattoir in the area that I live. I thought that was what she was talking about, and so I said, "Yes." Then she insisted "You are from the bad M." Thinking back on that incident, the difference between the "good" and "bad" M was the difference in districts: M has 1-chome (district )and 2-chome and 1-chome was a non-Buraku area. Even today, when asked where they live, people living in 1-chome respond M 1-chome." They do not intend to discriminate, but do so unconsciously. I think they are signifying the difference by mentioning the chome.

I went home crying after hearing her words. I just wanted to be home as soon as possible. My parents were surprised to see me, when I said, "I don't want to go to school from tomorrow onwards." I told them what had happened in school, and my parents went to consult with the school executives. After several days, an elderly woman came to our home. She was an important person at our home. In those days, my family was in the business of wholesale of meat. My grandmother peddled meat. The elderly woman, who came, was her major customer. I thought she came to buy some meat, but she told my grandmother, "My granddaughter seems to have said something unnecessary to your granddaughter." She added," "I will buy a lot of meat from you, so please put up with it," and my parents relented immediately. Adults change, just because the person in question is an important customer. I still cannot forget the scene. The adults may have been satisfied, but nothing had changed between the girl and myself. The fear that she may say something again remained.

My parents told me to look like someone from the "good M" which meant that I should study. My parents had to work hard for that. They said I have to beat her in school work, because Buraku children were looked down upon for lacking academic skills. Since my parents could not teach me themselves, they had to find a tutor. They had to clothe me properly. They thought that if I wore good clothes and valuables, I would be seen as someone from the "good M" and sent me to school with leather shoes, rings and watch.

I grew up in a home, where there was someone else to do the housework, and someone would come and bring warm lunch to the elementary school every day. My parents said, "Buraku people don't have good manners," and made me take various kinds of lessons. They said they couldn't trust what the sweets shops were selling, so I only ate what my parents bought. It was about the time I was in the 5th grade. My parents learned that the elementary school in the neighboring school district admitted children from other districts, and decided to send me there. They changed the address and I transferred to that school. I thought I would look like someone from the "good M" But that was not to be.

In the art class when I was in the 6th grade, we were using veins of leaves to draw pictures. I used red paint, my favorite color, in four places. Then a boy in my class picked up my picture and ran with it, saying, "She is the daughter of a cow-killer, she is hot-blooded, she used a lot of red." I was not the only one using red. I was using the same paint by the same manufacturer, and painted in the same way. I wondered why something like being told I am hot-blooded should happen to me just because my family was in the meat business and just because I used my favorite red color. But I just could not say the words, "Stop it." I was also chagrined that none of my friends spoke up to say, "you shouldn't do that." From that time onwards until I joined the liberation movement, red, which had been my favorite color became a dreaded one. The time that scared me most was when I was told to bring a red pencil to correct the answers.

These are the two people I would most like to meet today. The two would most likely have forgotten about this, even when I told them. But I would like to tell them, how my life had changed with their words, and what I felt at that time. Words that are uttered without much thought can cause great damage to others. I think I am the person I am today, because of these things that happened.

In the third term during 6th grade, the class teacher told me to come to the faculty's room after class. I was told that my family wanted to send me to a private school. There would be an interview for me and my parents, and they would be asking what my parents' profession was. I was told not to say that we were in the meat business. I had been told by my parents that I should never disobey the police or teachers. The teacher told me because he probably wanted me to be admitted in the school, but at that time, I was shocked that my parents' work was something that could get me refused to be admitted to school.

Inner discriminatory consciousness

I passed the entrance examinations. I took the train to school, and I was relieved that I could go somewhere away from home. But in a short while, there was F from M sitting in the same class. I decided not to speak to her unless necessary until graduation.

It was during the 1st grade. The weekly magazine, Shukan Asahi featured the Buraku issue on its September 26 issue. I still remember the date clearly. It was like the "area directory" of Dowa area in the Kansai region.

A friend in the newspaper club called me and asked me as she read the magazine, "F in our class comes from this place written here. It says they kill cows here. How do they kill cows?" I looked at the photo, and it was a photo of my mother's family home. Although we were proud of having our family home in the magazine, on the following day, it had become the dreaded publication. I took the position of discriminating against F to protect myself. I was afraid people would say something worse about me than what they were saying about F.

I agreed with her, saying, "It is sickening. I didn't know she came from a place like that." I discriminated against my parents, against my hometown.

Then, my friend brought the student directory next to the magazine, and listed up people from the Buraku area with a red pencil, as if hunting for Buraku people. No one stopped her. It was frightening to nervously join in the atmosphere. On the following day, there was a circle drawn in pencil around F in the class photo. She said, "Look, there is something wrong with the way Buraku children look." F and I both share the same conditions; our parents come from Buraku areas, we were born in M and are in the meat business. They said something was wrong with the way you look just because you live in the Buraku area. I believe there is something wrong in saying that something is wrong. But there I was, thinking that it was wrong, but not being able to say so. I wanted to tell someone that I was of Buraku origin, and that you faced many problems, but was unable to do so. The school atmosphere and the classroom was not the kind of place where I could do so. I decided to cultivate broad but shallow friendships, and to live my life that way.

The difficulty of concealing

When there was something unpleasant at school, I would lash out at my parents. I threw the school bag at them as soon as I said, "I'm home." At those times, I took it out on my parents, "Why did you have me?" "Why am I discriminated against like this? It is a big mistake to think that it can be solved with money. What are you going to do about my feelings?" My parents only told me that, "We have been putting up with this since years ago. If we cause trouble, the people will say it's the Buraku people again, so just don't cause any trouble."

When I grew up, my mother told me while taking a bath together, "You can have a relationship with anyone you want. But there are limits on who you marry." I still cannot forget the scene. My mother also looked pained as she said it. I was deeply shocked. Why should the fact that I was born in M become such a huge problem in the most important period of my life? I was seeing someone when I was studying at the university, but I was also told that being the only daughter, I should succeed the meat wholesale business. My parents told me that if I married a non-Buraku person, I would cause him trouble, so if I really loved him, breaking up would be the best expression of love. I thought my parents were right, and I married the man they recommended. After a while, he said, "I am now doing a meat shop, but I am non-Buraku. You are a Buraku person, even if you take care of your appearances," and he went away and disappeared. It took many days before I could explain to my parents what had happened. That was because I thought they would receive a greater shock than I did, when they heard that their precious daughter was discriminated in marriage by the person they thought would protect her from Buraku discrimination.

I could not keep it from them forever, so I asked my mother to come to my house, and took a bath with her, where I told her what my husband said, and that he disappeared after that. I would have done anything that I could do to improve, but I could not change the fact that I was born in M, however hard I tried. I told her that our marriage would not succeed unless my husband changed, changing myself would not help, and therefore I was thinking of divorce.

Then we held each other and cried, wondering why we would have to face such problems even though we have not caused anyone any trouble.

I had blamed my parents for the mortification I felt for the Buraku discrimination. I learned that it was Buraku discrimination for the first time, when I joined the Buraku liberation movement. Before that, I was blaming my parents for having me, for being in the meat business, or blaming M, feeling bitter about my parents, relatives and the area.

Because I had concealed about my Buraku origins, I had always carried a fear with me, that any one of my relatives or someone from the area might call out to me on the way to school. Therefore, every time I took the train, I made sure that no one would call out to me, and was always on guard. I was always reading a book in English, or studying mathematics. Each time I took the train, I was running away from the Buraku people. Concealing yourself thoroughly is an extremely difficult thing to do. It causes unspeakable suffering, having to live continuously on edge.

Encounter with the Buraku Liberation Movement

What I began to see

I did not have a good impression about the movement. I always thought that, "Because they keep on repeating 'Buraku,' 'Buraku,' I get discriminated too. I hope they won't keep on saying 'Buraku,' 'Buraku'.'"

One day, a youth, who came to work in our meat shop, asked me to help him write a poster and I did. After finishing, he asked if I could write the kana alphabets on the Chinese characters. I told him, "There are nobody these days, who can't read without the kana prints on the Chinese characters." He responded, "But there are people close to you, who can't read."

My parents certainly could not read.

He had pointed out what I consciously refused to see, even though I knew of my parents' experience.

He just stood and gave instructions. I suggested, "Why don't you write too, instead of just standing there." He said, "I didn't have any textbooks and was unhappy, so I didn't go to school. Therefore, I can't write." I had also been unhappy, having been bullied day after day being called "the daughter of the cow-killer." But my unhappiness was different in substance from his unhappiness. He said, "Your unhappiness is related to Buraku discrimination, but there was a different discrimination. I didn't have the textbooks." At that time, I did not connect the lack of textbooks with Buraku discrimination.

He told me, "Jobs available to my illiterate parents were limited and I couldn't ask them for money to buy books, when they had no job." Then, for the first time, I questioned why people needed money for textbooks, when you could not go to class without them, while people were talking of free mandatory education, or people having a right to education. The youth told me how the children of the Buraku in Nagahama in Kochi Prefecture stood up in the struggle for education, how the movement spread nationwide until the textbooks became free, and how they continued the Buraku liberation movement by going to the government offices to make demands. I learned that it was important to appeal to everyone that the Buraku discrimination was the cause of why people could not buy textbooks, and that the Buraku Liberation Leagues was there for that purpose.

In those days, there was a Dowa Kaikan (Hall) in Momodani, and for the first time in life, he brought me to the office of the Buraku Liberation League. When I learned about the history of Buraku, I was shocked. I wondered what the Japanese school education and the teachers were doing, not teaching the most important history. There were people who committed suicides, because schools did not teach the history of Buraku properly, or because they let the sleeping dogs lie. The history of people who were close to our lives should be taught in school. I felt mortified that the history of people closest to me living in Japan, the history of Buraku, of the Koreans living in Japan, of the people of Ainu and of Okinawa was not taught. I believe that Dowa education is important in one's lives, to live as a human being.

Then I realized that, I was a victim for not having been taught the Buraku history, and that the people, who were taught the wrong knowledge about Buraku and made discriminatory remarks were also victims. Appropriate awareness should be raised so that both do not become victims. The parents in Buraku are scared, and also do not know the history, so they do not teach their children the correct history. The non-Buraku do not know the history of Buraku either, but they do teach their children to discriminate. Once the incorrect knowledge is planted in the minds, it takes time to change course. Therefore, I hope that the correct knowledge would be taught early on.

When I heard the history of Buraku, I was really relieved. I was given the courage that Buraku discrimination would be eliminated. It was because my parents had only taught me to put up with things, to conceal your origins and not to trouble anyone. The people who were in the Buraku liberation movement told me that the class system was made by humans, so if you intentionally create people who do not discriminate, it will disappear. How to create people who do not discriminate was important, and we should try hard to create that kind of society. When I heard this, I saw the future direction.

When I met my current husband, I faced marriage discrimination for the second time. The parents of both families were against our engagement. In the midst of their opposition, we were encouraged by our friends and we married. Marriage with someone with Buraku origin is something that many people run away from, because they are afraid of being discriminated themselves. I believe marriage discrimination would be eliminated, depending on whether people can create a society, which supports these couples in such situations. Even in workplaces, a system in which people can consult, or friends can offer support, is important.

People say "No discrimination," but when it comes to the marriage of their own children, it is not the same. If asked why, they respond that that is different. I hope that they would not distinguish their cases, and apply the same understanding.

The difference in me

After I married, I had a daughter. At her birth, I made an important decision, about the attitude I should take, if she should ask me, as I had done to my parents, "Why did you have me?" I did not want my daughter to face discrimination as I had done. I was impatient, realizing that it was the parents' responsibility to create a society free from discrimination. Earning money was important, but through my involvement in the liberation movement, I learned the way of living and thinking that could not be bought with money. I wanted to find a place to put down the baggage of having discriminated the Buraku people, and the grudge I bore my parents, that I had before I learned about Buraku, and so I felt I wanted to go back to M, where I was born.

I returned to M, from where I had run away, and became a full-time staff of the BLL branch. It is the place where I saw many familiar faces. I realized anew, how warm the place was, just by changing the way I looked at it.

The Wonderful People I Came to Know

People working in the abattoir

The people I was most happy to meet were the people working in the abattoir.

During class in the elementary school, the children of M do not talk about their parents' profession. They brag about their homes when they are in the lower grades, but in higher grades, they realize how people see them, when they are in the meat business, and do not talk about it at all during class. At that time, I was head of the department on education measures. Teachers pointed out this problem to me.

It reminded me of my childhood. Children were still feeling uncomfortable being told "cow killers" for being in the meat business in M. So I decided to produce a teaching material. Following what the teachers told me, I interviewed people to ask about difficulties, pride and challenges they had in their work.

One of leaders made a suggestion. "How are you going to express the killing of cows? Unless you produce a teaching material that properly address that these people are told by others that they kill cows, that they are given life from the cattle, and that human beings cannot live unless they are given lives, you cannot say that you have pride in your profession of meat business." With his suggestion I visited an abattoir. When I saw the stomach coming out of the cow, I cried. I still feel that those tears were as precious as treasures in my heart. I was so moved I shed those tears. I understood that the meat industry today developed because of the craftsmen-like skills and expert technology.

If I had known about this earlier, I could have retorted, when someone called me, "cow-killer's daughter," and so I proposed a field trip by the Executive Committee to the abattoir. We made the field trip, but it was a failure. I had not discussed about it with the abattoir workers beforehand. They told me, "There may be some, who would be moved like you. But some of them would think, because they are Buraku people do not mind killing, or, you can't eat meat after watching something like that. And if they go home thinking that way, it is not just disrupting our work, but it also spreads discrimination. So if we receive visits, there has to be some kind of follow-up, otherwise there would be trouble for us. How can you protect us from that? How and where can you represent the way we feel?" After that, I decided to conduct visits to the abattoir after planning appropriate follow-up.

We cannot live without being given the lives of all kinds of life in order to live. It is so obvious, that we tend to forget it. That is why we conduct visits so that people can take a good look at the importance of life through seeing the abattoir.

Also, in slaughtering and processing the cows, there is bound to be a bloody smell. The smell cannot be avoided. It is a matter of course that there are all kinds of smell in nature. It is also important to live while acknowledging differences. Please do not make up your mind that this profession is of just Buraku people. Meat industry is also an important profession requiring high skills that can be achieved through training.

People in the literacy class

Another encounter was with the friends in the literacy class. I have been registered for more than thirty years in the literacy class. Before joining the buraku liberation movement, I thought people using difficult letters and words were superior. Now, I have come to feel that that was wrong, and that had nothing to do with living like a human being. The change in the standard was brought about by my friends in the literacy class. I hope to be able to fully understand the way they lived with strength and sturdiness, even when they could not read or write.

I often get scolded by these friends. The first was when I became Secretary of the branch 18 years ago. There was a meeting; I prepared for it thoroughly and did my presentation. After that, when I went to the literacy class, they scolded me, that "Your talk was too difficult it wasn't a conversation. A conversation can only be achieved when you can correctly transmit your thoughts to others." It means, that in making an appeal, how much of your thoughts are transmitted to others, how much of it is understood is important. I was taught by my friends that I have to be continuously conscious of the thoughts and expectations of the participants.

The next time was when we were preparing the branch newspaper. There is a limit to the space on the pages. When I was using words made up of Chinese characters and adding the kana print, my friends told me that adding the kana prints may help people who know the meaning of the Chinese characters, but cannot read them, yet it would not help people who cannot read the Chinese characters in the first place. They said that it was important what sort of consideration was made for people who cannot read. How to work with people while respecting each other, is important. My friends taught me that way of life.

Among my friends in the literacy class, there is a woman in the same class, who is still an important friend today. Her child started to go to the nursery. In the notebook used for communication between parents and the nursery, she makes notes in kana of the food her child ate, like "fish" or "vegetable." When the nursery staff asked her to write what kind of fish, she is said to have responded, "a fish is a fish." The nursery wanted her to write in more detail, and I was consulted, so I talked to her. As I listened to her, I learned for the first time, that her mother had died when she was in the 6th grade, and that she left the elementary school, to look after her brothers in place of her. I suggested that she should join me in the literacy class.

Even if she had wanted a stable job, she could not find one easily, because she had not graduated elementary school. Later, she went to negotiate with the Prefectural Education Board and the Ministry of Education (now Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports Science and Technology), but to no avail. The Ministry dismissed her appeal, saying she should take a certification exam. She studied, took the exam at the literacy class, and received the notice of Equivalency Certificate of Lower Secondary School Graduates from the Ministry.

How much of her life she wasted, and how far she had to go to get the certificate. Because of that, I cannot let the current school education be negligent. I heard that she hoped that the education would never create further students who had to go to literacy classes.

I hope that people will not forget that there may be people close to them who cannot read or write. I also believe it is important to create an atmosphere, where these people can say they cannot read or write.

I feel that I am here today, because I had been strengthened in the warmth of such people.

From Buraku Kaiho, Special Issue 2005/544 Dai 35 kai Buraku Kaiho Jinken Kaki Koza Hokokusho.