Cultural Context

How I write about Hiro and his outness

In August, I did something slightly different for my memoir’s manuscript.

A writing friend who is also developing a memoir asked me to swap manuscripts so that we could reach other’s work and offer feedback. I’ve worked with three other beta readers so far, and although I felt like my manuscript is in a good place, I went ahead with the proposal.

Earlier this month, we shared our respective feedback, and then today, we had a Zoom meeting to review the important things.

Her eye, as another writer, was interesting. She picked up on some of my writing quirks. I rely heavily on the verb to wink, for example.

But she also noticed something that had been bothering me.

My memoir’s manuscript, currently titled Crying in a Foreign Language: The Deity That Answered My Plea, is structured into four acts.

The Foreigner Within covers a span of six years, during which I am visited by the puberty fairy and begin to act on my sexuality. It ends when I graduate high school and move to rural Massachusetts to attend college.

Coming Out covers a span of four years, together with my journey from closeted pseudo-heterosexuality (an act that only fooled me, in retrospect, and maybe my mother) to the initial comings out, prompted by my college chaplain. It ends after I fly to Japan for a job that was intended to create a one-year gap between undergraduate and graduate life (not to mention a reprieve from my fears of HIV-AIDS).

Strange in a Stranger Land covers my first five years in Japan, along with the shape-shifting act I needed to perform to be in the closet at work but gay and sexually active on my own time. It’s a wild ride as I make new friends, (get the air quotes ready) date a bevy of Japanese men, and then let my first (again, air quotes) boyfriend move in with me. It ends when I realize said boyfriend is a chronic manipulator and I ask him to move out.

The Deity that Answered My Plea covers my final five years in Japan, starting with the realization that most of the men I dated had included me on a checklist only. Sex with a caucasian? Done. Shortly after my friends beg me to stop bedding men on the first date, I meet Hiro, and we embark on a relationship that defies many of my expectations. This act ends when I am headhunted to a job in the Seattle area and get on a plane, unsure if Hiro will really follow me to the US.

Hiro on the morning after our second date, borrowing my cardigan for a walk in my neighborhood.

The first three acts are fairly solid, but the fourth act nagged at me. I had a suspicion that the writing wasn’t as rich, that it fell flat in places, but I wasn’t exactly sure what the problem was.

As I reviewed the feedback from my latest beta-reader, I found that she picked up on that fourth act lack and, thankfully, she had a suggestion that illuminated a way to a fix.

I’m paraphrasing, but her comment was:

Why do you write about Hiro like you do all the other men? I get that he’s special, but only faintly. You need to sell me more on the magic of the relationship.

Ouch.

But she’s correct. It’ll take me some time to get the revisions taken care of, but I can see what needs to happen, which is a relief.

She had another question:

Is Hiro out to his parents? You never mention that clearly.

Riffing off one of my favorite gay comedians from the 1980s and ‘90s, Bob Smith (and do yourself a favor and search for Bob Smith and Elvira Kurt, who often performed together, on YouTube), I have said that Hiro’s parents, his father in particular, adopted a very Roman Catholic stance (even though they are NOT Catholic) to Hiro’s sexuality. Namely, if they ignore it long enough it will go away.

But in fact, I had accidentally outed Hiro to his father (and the incident is in the manuscript, too). About a month after Hiro and I started dating, I had to fly home to New York for Christmas and I meticulously planned for Hiro to receive a letter each day I was away. The letters were written in Japanese and reflected my passion for Hiro both in the words and in the little drawings I included.

But, strangely for Japan Post, there was a mixup and the first three letters all arrived on the same day. Curiosity killed Hiro’s father and he opened all three letters.

Hiro called me in New York from a payphone. No more letters! I’ll fill you in when you get back!

I was left to spend the rest of my days in New York worrying about what had happened, but Hiro met me at the airport and filled me in during the train ride back to my place.

His father went ballistic, raging at Hiro, demanding to know who the foreigner was who had corrupted his son. He went on to threaten an arranged marriage and then leveled an ultimatum: Hiro was never to see me again.

And yet, there Hiro was, on the train beside me.

I suspect he learned this behavior early on (because I’d heard that his father had a temper), but when Hiro’s father raged, Hiro went silent. And from that point forward, whenever Hiro spent time with me, he said that he was out with friends. He also knew that I would need to call his home to speak with him sometimes (in an era pre-dating most cell phones), and so I was given a name to use if someone else picked up the phone. I was Takatani.

Hiro’s mother, I assumed, had less to say on the matter, and after Hiro moved to the United States to live with me in late 1988, she would sign her letters to Hiro with a greeting for your friend. She and I had the chance to meet in 2006, after which her letters ended with say hello to Brian, but during that meeting I confessed to my Takatani alter-ego. She laughed, saying, I knew you weren’t from Tōkyō—there was something about your accent—but I simply assumed you were from Kyūshū.

Is Hiro out to his family?

By strict, Western definitions, which include a formal coming out, no.

But his mother knows. His brother, a wonderful man five years Hiro’s junior, knows. And I suspect his father knows. Have I met his father? No. But that’s okay.

Here in North America, Hiro is wedded to me (and I to him). He wears the wedding ring I bought for him. He sleeps beside me. He lights my days. We file our taxes together.

Another confrontation with his father wouldn’t change anything, so no, Hiro does not need to formally come out.

Coming out wouldn’t have made us any happier.