a campaign not for the past, but for our future.
"It's funny and weird how you can go from wanting to completely disappear one day, to suddenly having something to devote your life to the next. Today, I met somebody that I know I'm never going to forget, not ever. Her name is Emiko Okada and she's an A-bomb survivor from Hiroshima.
I don't know what I can say to express what happened. It's not enough for me to tell you that she gave us one of those "eye-witness" accounts about what happened to her that day. She really inspired me, but even now I'm not sure what she inspired me to do. I want to help her promote her message. I just can't believe I met her. I don't know what to do.
That day on August 6th, 70,000 people died instantly. By the end of the year, another 70,000 died from the effects. I can't even begin to describe the horrors of even the aftermath. I had no idea that even Hibakusha were ostracized in Japan and called monsters. It wasn't even their fault. That day when her sister left, she said "see you later" and never returned. Her mother went out every day for three months looking for her and they never found her. Ms. Okada has an extreme case of anemia, and her daughter (who was born much later) has a blood disorder, too.
When she was telling us her story, there were several times when I could hear her throat tighten like she was about to cry. It's different from survivors of, say, the Titanic. When they die, they'll take everything with them, and all we have is what they remember. Even when all the survivors have died, their children will continue to pass on disorders and cancers and all kinds of things to their children, and who knows when it will end?
But this isn't about what happened that day. Everyone more or less knows what happened that day. What this is about is Ms. Okada's message. It was because what she went through when she was only eight, and because she remembered her mother's suffering as she searched for her sister, that she would never wish war on anyone. Because of nuclear weaponry, a small handful of people have the power to take out the world. Nothing good ever comes of war, people know that. But it's so easy to forget.
She gave us all paper cranes, a symbol of peace and happiness. Then she gave us paper airplanes with cranes on them, that her granddaughter made. Because instead of dropping bombs, airplanes should be carrying hope. That's what she said.
After class I really wanted to talk to her, but I didn't know what to say. At first I thought I just wanted to hug her, and I know it sounds so silly and childlike, but when I went after her to ask for a hug, I started to cry. But she gave me a hug and she said I was a good kid, and that everything was okay. I asked her about what she thought of Lebanon, and I explained to her about Israel and Lebanon, and I don't even know why. But she said I was young, and I was good, and that I could still let myself forgive. She held my hand but I only cried more and hugged her again. She told me to come see her someday in Hiroshima. She told everyone to spread a message of peace.
I do want to spread her message, really I do. But I don't know how. I don't know what to do that'd make people pay attention. I think society is so used to shock value that even the most radical of things doesn't phase anybody, but I couldn't be radical if I tried. I just want people to be peaceful and forgive. What am I supposed to do?
I don't know yet, but someday, I'm going to Hiroshima. I'll never forget Ms. Okada, not ever, and I wish I had the courage to make this entry public because I want people to know who she is. She's the person who changed my life."
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