“See me, I am alive. You have become the very villain you seek to project onto me. Does my darkened skin threaten your art? See me, watch me dance.

The slow movements you keep to yourself. They belong to everybody. Your invention doesn’t lay your claim or does it? What is ownership?

Hear me, all I know is that I own myself. That is the only thing for which I can shout “Mine!” So, with that, I take care of myself.

I show others you are enough. Your flaws are gifts. Accept them with open palms. Grasp at their wrappings, open them up and play.

Your flaws segregate you from no one. Don’t listen to them. Their message is one of separation.

We all know, deep down, that we are fragments of the same whole. So who dictates this bloodshed? We cannot blame the perceived ones at the reins because it is only us that holds our reins.”

I took a breath as the audience clapped. Those were the days.

I am Hana. I am of mixed blood, what many in Japan would call “hafu.” I am the daughter of a black Jamaican mother and Japanese father. And I am here in prison because of my dissent.

No, the reading I did at a café was not the reason for the arrest. Living here in Kyoto, Japan, I deal with embedded racism every day. Not to mention gender roles set from centuries ago. Banging on these walls is what landed me in prison.

I am twenty-five years old, and my hair is long and dreaded. My hips sway with force when I walk and my skin glows beyond the stars. I love myself.

And all of these factors add up to failure. You see, in Japanese society today, I am a threat to the harmony of Japanese-ness.

There is no greater truth than being a Japanese man in Japan. Don’t let the winning of a beauty contest or a few comedians getting placed on TV fool you, the struggle is real out here. What can I become in a society that seeks to destroy my image with every move?

They tell me that the country is opening its mind. That it’s allowing more foreigners in with fewer restrictions. While some of that is indeed happening, I cannot stand for this agenda while my eyes see only steel bars and a grim outlook.

You see, I am – was – an actress in noh theater. The very first one of foreign blood, let alone female, to do it big. The only way I could do it was to build my own school.

As the leader of this new movement, our activities started to take on a more active stance, if you will. What I mean by that is, we set out to subvert the very standards of Japanese society. Gender, race, religion; we challenged it all.

And we were deeply good at it. I guess that’s why you listen to me from behind this window.

This is the first chapter of "SHE IS ALIVE", my second novella. If you enjoyed this, please sign up to get the full book here: http://brandonchin.net/subscribe/

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