Guest: Yumiko Minegishi (Representative Director, Yushin General Incorporated Association)
Host: Satoru Seki (editor, producer)
Hosts: Bruce Osborn (photographer), Yoshiko Inoue (Oyako Day Promotion Committee)
Organized by: Oyako Day Promotion Committee
Streaming date and time: Sunday, April 26, 2026, from 3:00 p.m. (live stream)

For the 45th Oyako Day Online Talk Live, we welcome Yumiko Minegishi, who for 35 years has been involved in nature-experience activities, operating and leading nature schools, and training instructors. Through her original “Yushin Method,” she promotes activities that connect local nature, people, and culture. What hints for the future can be found in Minegishi’s connection with Oyako Day? This article introduces highlights from the video.
(Watch the video here)

Featuring:

Yumiko Minegishi (Representative Director, Yushin General Incorporated Association)

For 35 years, she has been involved in nature-experience activities, running nature schools, and training instructors. She developed her own “Yushin Method,” which she has expanded into corporate training as well as early-childhood and family education. After establishing the organization in 2010, she began offering hands-on programs for parents and children in urban areas that engage all five senses; in 2024, about 1,500 people participated over the year. She also works on inquiry-based learning using zoos and museums. Since 2021, she has led the Kanda Ai no Kai, dedicating herself to passing on local culture.

Satoru Seki (Editor, producer)

He has been involved in planning and editing culture magazines such as POPEYE, BRUTUS, and Takarajima. He currently also serves as a part-time lecturer at institutions including Nippon Engineering College and as director of the Stimulus Switch Institute. He is in charge of “Seki Satoru’s Movie Oyako-don” on the official Oyako Day website.

Bruce Osborn (Photographer; originator of Oyako Day)

He began photographing parents and children as a theme in 1982. In 2003, he proposed that the fourth Sunday of July be designated Oyako Day. His social activities through photography, including Oyako Day, were recognized with the Higashikuninomiya Culture Award. As an artist, he continues to share the message “Present to the Future.”

Yoshiko Inoue (Representative of Oyako Day; producer; President and CEO of Ozone Inc.)

As Bruce Osborn’s partner in both work and life, she has produced numerous exhibitions and events.

Introducing Yumiko Minegishi

Seki: Hello. It’s Sunday, April 26, and the weather in Tokyo is beautifully sunny. Today we welcome Yumiko Minegishi of Yushin General Incorporated Association as our guest. Hello, Ms. Minegishi.

Minegishi: Thank you for having me.

Seki: Today I’d like you to tell us about the activities of your organization, Yushin, because I think they have a strong affinity with Oyako Day. The name is written with the characters for “play” and “heart.” What does it mean?

Minegishi: We launched the organization 16 years ago, and I’m very particular about the word “Yushin.” One meaning is like the commonly used idea of a playful spirit: a state with space and ease. Another is like mindfulness: a state in which the mind is free, like the focused time when a child is so absorbed—even with a runny nose—that they don’t notice when someone at home calls to them. That nuance of being completely engrossed is also part of “Yushin,” so I chose the name to combine both meanings.

Seki: In Japanese, “playing” tends to be taken lightly, but the English word “play” is broad and deep. I feel that a playful heart may be the most important thing of all.

Minegishi: I hope not only children, but adults too, can have that. It’s something I want to value.

Children Who Don’t Have Opportunities to Play Outside

Seki: This is your 16th year, I hear. Having seen so many children, what are your impressions?

Minegishi: I’ve actually been playing outdoors with children for more than 35 years, including in places near mountains and the sea. When I returned to Taito Ward, where I was born, I found that there were many children who had no opportunity to go outside and play. Some had never touched a leaf, had never caught a pill bug, or couldn’t sit on the ground. Their parents would scold them, saying, “Don’t touch that, it’s dirty.” Recently, nursery school and kindergarten teachers have been working hard to improve this, but now parents from Generation Z often have no nature experiences themselves, so the parents can’t touch things either.

If you go somewhere rich in nature, of course you can experience more. But even in the city, there is ground beneath your feet, flowers blooming in the flower bed next door, and ants by the roadside. I think it’s important to notice those things.

Seki: The way we direct our attention is important too. Yoshiko, how do you see the connection with Oyako Day?

Yoshiko: What they have in common is that they look at society not as “parent or child,” but through the connection of “both parent and child.” I’d like to keep exploring what we can share together going forward.

Helping Children Find Their Own Ways to Play

Bruce: Please take a look at these photos from an event we did a little while ago in Hayama with local people.

Yoshiko: After going for a walk and collecting grasses, flowers, and driftage from the beach, we gave everyone a specimen box. It was an event where Bruce taught people how to take photographs while they created a specimen box. Both parents and children took part, and everyone got completely absorbed—it was so much fun. I thought it overlapped with Ms. Minegishi’s activities, so I dug up these nostalgic photos.

Seki: Amazing. These are really impressive works.

Yoshiko: Even people with no photography experience can walk around with a camera, take pictures, cut out the finished prints, and combine them with things they picked up to make works like this. It was fun.

Yoshiko: While everyone was doing this, they were all so quiet.

Minegishi: And when your own photo is included, it makes you happy.

Yoshiko: When children see adults enjoying themselves, they’re delighted and have fun too. It’s about enjoying it, not doing it out of obligation—that’s “Yushin,” isn’t it? I felt that was where we could really resonate with Ms. Minegishi’s work.

Seki: Instead of only knowing things that have been handed to them, children find their own play in nature. I think that’s truly creative.

Minegishi: Many children can play with something they’ve been given, but they’re not very good at creating something themselves from nothing. But in fact, children do have that ability, and as they keep doing it, they become able to use it. The strength they already have awakens. Nature is perfect for that, because it contains so many things outside the human realm and is so full of variety.

Seki: Looking at your website, I see your name is listed as “Fujiko.” Where did Fujiko come from?

Minegishi: I’ve been keeping it a secret, but the children call me “Fujiko-chan.”

Seki: That’s straight out of Lupin.

Minegishi: When I was younger, I got up to all sorts of things. Drinking, making noise, walking around town carrying a big bottle of sake—that kind of thing was normal. Please keep it a secret.

Seki: Everyone is watching, and this will stay in the archive too. From now on, I’ll call you Ms. Fujiko.

Activities of the Kanda Ai no Kai

Seki: It says “Kanda Ai-ai” here. Fujiko, you’re also active with the Kanda Ai no Kai. Could you tell us about it?

Minegishi: It started in 2021. I thought it would be nice to have nature close at hand, so I had been running a rooftop vegetable garden in Uchikanda. We were giving local parents and children the chance to experience growing vegetables there, but because of COVID, we could no longer use it. I focused on indigo as something easier to grow than vegetables and suited to Kanda’s history and culture, and I reached out to people in the community.

Minegishi: We grow it on the rooftop of a public facility in Chiyoda Ward, Tokyo. You can see the roof of the Budokan nearby, and to the left is the inner moat of the Imperial Palace. We had already been doing dyeing activities with parents and children, but I started this with the thought, “Why don’t we begin by growing the indigo ourselves?” Indigo is a fairly hardy plant; as long as it has water, it grows steadily. You can grow it in a pot on your balcony at home or in your garden.

Using Indigo-Dyeing Culture as a Way to Bring People Together

Seki: How do those green leaves become that indigo blue?

Minegishi: Many people don’t know that the indigo used in indigo dyeing is a plant. Even when you make the dye liquid, it’s green at first, and through oxidation it changes to blue. We all enjoy watching that transformation together. By growing the plant, it becomes a chance for people to talk, and I hope it helps different people connect with one another. That’s the spirit behind the activity.

Minegishi: Kanda was originally a place where indigo from all over Japan was processed. Indigo produced in places like Tokushima and Gunma would gather here, and I hope it can become a “knot” where people connect. Indigo has been familiar to Japanese people since the age of the samurai; the garments worn under armor were dyed with indigo, and it is also said to have antioxidant properties and to help wounds heal faster.

Seki: It’s a beautiful color. As a high-quality pair of jeans, indigo-dyed jeans would be great, wouldn’t they?

Minegishi: Yes. But what matters is not just the finished product. I think what the people of the town need is the time and place to gather the indigo together, make the dye liquid, dye things, and enjoy the process. That’s why we do it.

Seki: So it connects with Yushin. Do Yushin and the Ai no Kai ever work together?

Minegishi: They do. When there is a parent-and-child dyeing event, Yushin goes out and helps. Anyone who wants to take part can apply through the website, and we’ll send seeds and seedlings. We distribute seeds that have been blessed at Kanda Myojin Shrine, and people can be involved in the entire process over the course of a year: growing, harvesting, and dyeing.

Seki: Isn’t the barrier to entry high?

Minegishi: Not at all!

Growing Indigo Is Not Difficult

Seki: How long does it take before the plant can be used for dyeing?

Minegishi: If you sow the seeds in March or April, the plants grow large by June or July in the summer, and you can harvest them about three times. They look like shiso or basil, and people seeing them for the first time sometimes ask, “Is this basil?” In Tokushima, they make it into tea or mix it into foods. It’s bitter, but it’s good for you. There are also initiatives where people with disabilities mix it into cookies. If indigo spreads through the Kanda area, there will be more greenery, and children will have more places to touch leaves, so I’d like to fill the area with green.

Bruce Introduces Activities at the Hayama Art Festival

Seki: Now Bruce has an announcement about Oyako Day activities.

Bruce: This year, we’re exhibiting panels of artwork at Morito Shrine.

Seki: You can see them as soon as you enter the shrine.

Yoshiko: We’re also exhibiting works at the nearby Lanai Gallery.

Yoshiko: It’s a two-person exhibition by Masaru Fukuda and Bruce. Bruce is showing works based on driftage he found by the sea, with hand-drawn elements added to photographic negatives and printed on Nishijima washi paper from Yamanashi. Please come and see it.

A Large-Scale Event Packed with Programs

Bruce: And we’re doing a photo session too.

Yoshiko: There will be a Children’s Day photo session, and there will also be a screening and talk event at Lanai. The footage was shot by Bruce not long after he came to Japan, and it’s full-on Showa-era Japan. He took a torii gate to all sorts of places and filmed it. On May 4, there will also be a talk event with Bruce, hosted by Seki.

Seki: You’ll get to see another side of Bruce, different from his parent-and-child photography. The Hayama Art Festival has more than 100 exhibitions and is large in scale, stretching from Kamakura to Akiya. You can go inside artists’ studios, and there are film screenings too. It’s amazing.

Yoshiko: I think this year is the 34th edition. It’s wonderful that all sorts of people can communicate around a single theme, and that’s part of Hayama’s charm.

Yumiko Minegishi’s “Present to the Future”

Seki: Now, Fujiko-chan, please give us your Present to the Future. “Everything has life”—what do you mean by that?

Minegishi: When humans become the center of things, we tend to think that people are superior, and that the nature around us, our friends, or everything else altogether is somehow different. But I want people to realize that family, friends, the flowers and grasses in the neighborhood, and the tiny insects there each have their own small life. If more people notice that, their relationships with all kinds of things will become more loving, more caring, and more cherishing.

If that keeps spreading, I believe the Earth could become peaceful. It’s a big idea, but I think it’s important first to cherish everything around us, and that is what I want to convey to children.

Yoshiko: I truly feel the same way. It’s exactly the same as the spirit of Oyako Day. If everyone begins with what is close at hand, that will eventually become a great movement. And I also want us not to forget that the Earth itself is a living body with a finite life.

Minegishi: We mustn’t forget that. I think the smallest unit of all is parent and child.

Bruce: I’d really like us to do something together around the theme of discovering what’s right in front of us. I think that’s right.

Yoshiko: Nature is powerful, so when there’s even a small crack, a sprout will properly emerge. I hope the town can be a place that doesn’t lose that vitality of life. I think that’s important for children and for adults too.

Seki: Thank you very much. Everyone, have a wonderful Sunday!

The post Talk Live Text Edition – Yumiko Minegishi ~Present to the Future~ vol.45 appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.

Guest: Hirofumi Gomi (President and CEO, Office Burn Inc.; Haunted House Producer)
Host: Satoru Seki (editor, producer)
Hosts: Bruce Osborn (photographer), Yoshiko Inoue (Oyako Day Promotion Committee)
Organizer: Oyako Day Promotion Committee
Streaming date and time: Saturday, May 23, 2026, from 12:30 p.m. (live stream)

The guest for the 46th Online Talk Live is Hirofumi Gomi.
In this article, we present highlights from the video.
(Watch the video here)

Featuring:

Hirofumi Gomi (President and CEO, Office Burn Inc.; Haunted House Producer)

Since 1992, beginning with “Maro Akaji’s Panorama House of Horrors” at Korakuen Amusement Park—now Tokyo Dome City Attractions—he has produced more than 100 haunted houses over the course of more than 30 years. With his distinctive style incorporating “story” and “mission,” he has evolved the haunted house into entertainment that adults can enjoy as well. His major works include “Baby Hell,” “The House of Leg-Cutting,” and “The Pinky-Swear House.” He is also the author of many books.

Satoru Seki (Editor, producer)

He has been involved in planning and editing culture magazines such as POPEYE, BRUTUS, and Takarajima. He currently also serves as a part-time lecturer at institutions including Nippon Engineering College, and as director of the Stimulus Switch Research Institute. He is in charge of “Satoru Seki’s Movie Oyako-don” on the official Oyako Day website.

Bruce Osborn (Photographer; originator of Oyako Day)

He began photographing parents and children as a theme in 1982. In 2003, he proposed making the fourth Sunday of July “Oyako Day.” His social activities through photography, including Oyako Day, were recognized with the Higashikuninomiya Culture Award. As an artist, he continues to share the message “Gift to the Future ~Present to the Future~.”

Yoshiko Inoue (Representative of Oyako Day; producer; President and CEO of Ozone Inc.)

As Bruce Osborn’s professional and personal partner, she has produced numerous exhibitions and events.

Introducing Mr. Gomi

Seki: Hello. Today we’ve invited a rather frightening guest: haunted house producer Hirofumi Gomi. Mr. Gomi has very close ties with Bruce; every year Bruce photographs the haunted house at Korakuen that Mr. Gomi produces. To begin, I’d like to ask how you first met Bruce.

Meeting Bruce and Yoshiko

Gomi: I started working on Korakuen’s haunted houses in 1992, and asked the butoh dancer Maro Akaji to direct one. That “Maro Akaji’s Panorama House of Horrors” became a huge hit, and they asked me back the following year. The promotional art for Maro’s production was by the artist Suehiro Maruo, and Bruce had been photographing Maruo.

Bruce: That’s right.

Gomi: Because of that connection, the producer of Dairakudakan said, “Why don’t you ask Bruce?” That was how we first met.

Seki: That was when you were active in the underground scene, wasn’t it?

Gomi: It was around the time of “Tokyo GaGaGa,” after all.

Yoshiko: Was Kazuo Umezu later than that?

Gomi: No, it was then. We asked Mr. Umezu to do the haunted house the following year, so Bruce photographed him as well.

Seki: He’s eating a brain. It’s like Dr. Lecter—or there’s also a scene in Jacopetti’s Mondo Cane where they eat a monkey’s brain.

Gomi: With plans like this, Bruce would sketch things out as we talked—saying, “Wouldn’t it be interesting to take a photo like this?”—and we’d move forward from there.

Bruce: Family members and acquaintances are in there too.

Gomi: The people around them are dancers from Dairakudakan.

Gomi: This is a haunted house called “Heart of Darkness,” where you walk around carrying a heart.

Seki: That’s awful (laughs).

Gomi: It’s scary because white-painted people appear.

The haunted house experience and the mission element

Seki: In Mr. Gomi’s haunted houses, there’s a mission—delivering something, for example—and because you’re made responsible for it, it becomes frightening.

Gomi: You don’t want to get involved because it’s scary, but when you have to deliver it, it starts to weigh on you.

Seki: Japanese people are serious, so they try to complete the mission.

Gomi: In the end, they get enjoyment out of it, so they do it.

A childhood spent making haunted houses and scaring relatives

Seki: Mr. Gomi, you went from studying law into theater. Did your love of horror go back to childhood?

Gomi: I liked scary things from the time I was a child, and I also wanted to entertain people. I loved rakugo and thought about becoming a storyteller, while at the same time I was making haunted houses in my own home. For three years—from third to fifth grade—every summer I would build a haunted house at home and scare relatives who came back to Nagano.

Seki: As they say, “The child is father to the man.”

Gomi: I’ve spent most of my life doing haunted houses, really. During those three years—third, fourth, and fifth grade—every summer I built a haunted house in my own home.

Seki: Even though it wasn’t for a school festival.

Gomi: In junior high, high school, and university, I completely forgot about it. By the time I started making haunted houses as an adult, I no longer even remembered that I’d done it as a child.

Encountering Jokyo Gekijo and turning to theater

Gomi: I hated watching school theater, but at university a friend in the theater club said, “Just trust me—it’s interesting. They perform inside a tent.” So I went to see Jokyo Gekijo and was stunned. Jinpachi Nezu and Kaoru Kobayashi were in it, and my dislike flipped all at once into “This is fascinating.” After that I began writing scripts, and when I took them to a friend’s theater company, they were well received.

Gomi: Around that time, Kohei Tsuka had emerged, followed by Hideki Noda, Shoji Kokami, and other student theater companies from the six major universities, which became a boom. I became obsessed with wanting to be like them too.

Seki: And that’s how you became Gomi of Rikkyo, so to speak.

His first haunted house was inspired by the world of Edogawa Ranpo

Gomi: The central actor in Jokyo Gekijo was Maro, so it really was an amazing twist of fate. My first haunted house, “Maro Akaji’s Panorama House of Horrors,” was set in the world of Edogawa Ranpo.

Seki: Bruce took this photo too, didn’t he? We’ve never seen anything like this for Oyako Day, so it’s quite a surprise.

Yoshiko: We’re showing it publicly today for the first time.

It’s scary, but everyone ends up smiling

Seki: Bruce, what were you feeling when you took these?

Bruce: It was an incredible team. Very creative—and these two don’t usually come together.

Yoshiko: Bruce’s parent-child photos are monochrome and simple, but these are elaborate, with lighting and other effects, so I think he enjoyed it.

Seki: This doll isn’t CG?

Gomi: We arranged them to some extent, photographed them, and layered the images.

Yoshiko: Based on Mr. Gomi’s story, Bruce would develop an image, and we photographed while thinking about the effects we would use in processing it.

Seki: This is a good photo (laughs).

Gomi: This woman is someone who was buried under the floor.

Bruce: Was this during COVID? Everyone’s wearing masks.

Gomi: Maybe the haunted house at Uzumasa.

Gomi: This is called “The Nape Barber Shop”—a barbershop that cuts the nape of your neck.

Seki: Oh, that’s scary.

Gomi: I’m happy to see all these nostalgic photos.

Seki: Mr. Gomi, what does “scary” mean to you?

Gomi: A haunted house is a scary place, but in the end it’s fun. After people scream, most customers end up smiling. What’s interesting is that by laughing at the self that was scared, or at the person they’re with, they can see things objectively.

Seki: In the old days, amusement parks had permanent haunted houses; Futako-Tamagawaen and Dreamland had them too, but now they’re gone. The haunted house at Dreamland, where the floor turned all wobbly, was a shock.

Gomi: That’s a primitive way to scare people.

Bruce: Hanayashiki was amazing in how cheap and funky it was. I lived in Asakusa at first.

Gomi: Hanayashiki back then was cheap, but it had an old-fashioned charm that was wonderful.

Seki: I also miss the haunted houses at festival fairs and the snake-woman sideshow tents.

Gomi: Even now, at the Tori-no-Ichi fair at Hanazono Shrine in Shinjuku, there’s one sideshow tent still operating, and it’s wonderful. Haunted houses were once almost an endangered species, but now they’ve taken root.

Seki: Koji Suzuki’s Ring and Spiral also helped revive J-horror.

Gomi: Once Takashi Shimizu of Ju-On emerged and a movement took shape, directors and films followed, and the scene became richer and richer.

Seki: And Mr. Gomi has played a part in that. You’re a creator of culture.

Differences between Japanese and American horror

Yoshiko: What is the biggest difference between Japanese and overseas horror?

Gomi: In America, physical strength becomes the source of fear—murderers like Jason, for example. In Japan, it’s the weak who are scarier. Women become ghosts, don’t they? They’re oppressed and ultimately die. Their resentment is intense. That grudge becomes the source of fear. So the weaker someone is, the scarier they become. With revenge tales and ghost stories, men can take revenge, but women have no choice but to come back as spirits. Yotsuya Kaidan combines both revenge and a frightening story. Many of my haunted houses are also stories in which women suffer terribly.

The scariest work: The Texas Chain Saw Massacre

Seki: What work did you find the scariest?

Gomi: The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. At the time there was little information about it, and there were urban-legend-like stories surrounding it, so it was so shocking that I could barely watch it straight on in the theater.

Seki: The sound of the chainsaw was terrifying.

Gomi: It’s an interesting film because you begin to see things beyond the fear as well. A documentary was made for its 50th anniversary, and I think it’s a film people should see even outside the category of horror.

Bruce: It’s too scary for me to watch.

Yoshiko: I used to like scary movies and rides, but after having a child I became bad with them. I even started asking for the posters hanging at home to be turned around. Haunted houses have an element of play, so I can enjoy them, but posters come at you so relentlessly.

Bruce: Even though they’re my own work.

Yoshiko: I’m glad I got to take my time looking at them today. Mr. Gomi, where do you feel most at ease?

Gomi: I feel most at ease at home. But I also feel at ease inside haunted houses. Being backstage, in the dark, is calming too.

Claustrophobia and the terror of costumes

Gomi: I don’t really like saying this, but I’m not good with airplanes. I hate the feeling of being trapped.

Seki: I have a friend who hates seats in the middle of a movie theater, and he says he hates ski lifts too.

Bruce: I don’t like middle seats either, because you’re not free.

Seki: When I was a student, I had a part-time job wearing a monster suit. They zipped it up, and I couldn’t open it myself, so I panicked.

Gomi: I’ve also written a haunted house story about the lid of a drum can getting stuck and not opening.

Seki: The once-popular game The Exit 8 may have a similar premise, in that you can’t get out.

Gomi: I heard that during a shoot where someone in a Godzilla suit falls into a pool, they didn’t call cut for a long time, and water started getting inside the suit.

Seki: That’s terrifying.

This year’s haunted house is inspired by the world of Seishi Yokomizo

Seki: What is the theme of this year’s haunted house?

Gomi: It’s “Wedding in the Dark.” Set in a village in the late 1940s, it’s a story in which guests break the village rules and end up going through something terrifying. Strange customs and taboos are scary, aren’t they?

Seki: It’s a world like Seishi Yokomizo’s The Village of Eight Graves.

Gomi: I wanted to do something like The Inugami Family. It’s said that when Seishi Yokomizo was staying in Suwa for recuperation or something similar, he wrote The Inugami Family using the local Katakura zaibatsu and Lake Suwa as motifs.

A kodan collaboration with Hakuzan Kanda

Gomi: The kodan storyteller Hakuzan Kanda and Master Yujaku Sanyutei will alternate performances of “The Birth of Oiwa” from Yotsuya Kaidan and “Removing the Talismans” from The Peony Lantern at Shinjuku Suehirotei. I’ll be directing those ghost-story pieces from July 1 to 10.

Seki: Yoshiko, do you have any announcements?

Yoshiko: Oyako Day, on the fourth Sunday of July, is coming up, and events are planned including a photo contest, an essay contest, voting for the Oyako Grand Prize, and the Super Photo Session.

Seki: Please see the Oyako Day website for details.

Bruce: One more thing. At Morito Shrine in Hayama, we’re exhibiting large-scale works and video pieces through the end of August.

Hirofumi Gomi’s ~Present to the Future~

Gomi: My Present to the Future is: “Keep adventuring, forever and ever.” When people hear the word adventure, they tend to imagine it’s something only adventurers do. But I don’t think that’s true. For example, I love music, and the first record I bought was a CD single by an idol. Eventually that led me to Bob Dylan and to Talking Heads.

Back then, unlike today, there was hardly any information. I didn’t have much money either, so I would save my allowance as hard as I could, go to the record store, and think, “Maybe this one? Maybe that one?” I’d listen to all kinds of information from friends, go to friends’ houses and hear records, read magazines, and think as hard as I could about what record I should buy with my next allowance.

Seki: Absolutely.

Gomi: You’d say, “I’m paying this much money for a jacket with four guys on it—is it okay to buy this?” and then you’d buy Meet the Beatles! You’d drop the needle on the record and think, “Wow, this is great.” That meant taking a real risk. And before getting there, there were plenty of records I’d bought that turned out to be failures.

I’d paid money, but they weren’t interesting at all. But because there was the joy of arriving at something, I’d think, next time, let’s go a little further. Going further and further, failing, taking risks, at some point I reached Bob Dylan, and at some point I reached Talking Heads’ Remain in Light.

You get there by repeatedly challenging yourself with a spirit of adventure, taking risks, and pushing through something. But young people today, for example in how they live with music, don’t do that. Information keeps pouring in, and through streaming they can listen to all kinds of music without taking risks. But that unfolds within an algorithm, so if you like Korean idol songs, that algorithm won’t lead you to Bob Dylan. That’s why I think today’s age is depriving people of adventure.

What I want to pass on to the future is: “Hold on to a spirit of adventure, and just keep adventuring.” Take risks, again and again, get discouraged, fail. Grasp something with your own hands, use it as a foothold, and then, while failing again, grasp the next thing. Before you know it, you’ve reached someplace far away. That’s the kind of life I’d like young people to lead.

Seki: Wonderful. Everyone, let’s adventure! Thank you very much.

The post Talk Live Text Edition – Hirofumi Gomi ~Present to the Future~ vol.46 appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.

Guests: Tetsu Nakamura (Organizer of “Oyako Day @ Teganuma Park,” Digital Creator), Kei Endo (Director, Hakone Museum of Photography; Photographer), Miho Morishita (Representative, NPO “World Hibakusha Exhibition”), Naoto Anzai (Secretary-General, the same NPO)
Moderator: Satoru Seki (Editor, Producer)
Hosts: Bruce Osborn (Photographer), Yoshiko Inoue (Oyako Day Promotion Committee)
Organizer: Oyako Day Promotion Committee
Broadcast Date: Sunday, July 27, 2025 – 9:00 (Live)

The 23rd “Oyako Day” Special Live connected with Hakone, where an exhibition was underway, bringing real-time updates from the venue. Guests included Tetsu Nakamura—deeply involved with Oyako Day—and Miho Morishita, winner of the Oyako Day Grand Prize.

In this article, we present highlights from the video.
＜Watch the full video＞

Participants:

Tetsu Nakamura (Organizer of “Oyako Day @ Teganuma Park,” Digital Creator)

Since 2022, he has hosted “Oyako Day @ Teganuma Park” in Abiko, Chiba. He is deeply involved in Oyako Day, helping build horizontal links among local activity groups and contributing to community development.

Kei Endo (Director, Hakone Museum of Photography; Photographer)

Born in Hakone in 1958. While serving as director of the Hakone Museum of Photography, he presents work in Japan and abroad, including France, and participates in numerous photographic projects.

Miho Morishita (Representative, NPO “World Hibakusha Exhibition”)

She continues the activities of the NPO founded in 2002 by her father, photographer Ittetsu Morishita, advocating for a world free of nuclear weapons.

Naoto Anzai (Secretary-General, NPO “World Hibakusha Exhibition”)

As secretary-general, he organizes photo exhibitions and, from a restored traditional house in Yamanashi, works on building a sustainable local community.

Satoru Seki (Editor, Producer)

Has planned and edited culture magazines such as “POPEYE,” “BRUTUS,” and “Takarajima.” Currently a part-time lecturer (e.g., at Nihon Kogakuin College) and Director of the Stimulus Switch Laboratory. Writes the “Movie Oyako-don” column on the Oyako Day website.

Bruce Osborn (Photographer; Originator of “Oyako Day”)

Began photographing parents and children in 1982. In 2003, proposed making the fourth Sunday of July “Oyako Day.” Received the Higashikuninomiya Culture Prize for the social impact of his photography activities including Oyako Day. Continues to share the message “Present to the Future.”

Yoshiko Inoue (Head of Oyako Day Promotion Committee; Producer; CEO, Ozone Co.)

As Bruce Osborn’s professional and life partner, she has produced many exhibitions and events.

Oyako Day” Special Live—We’re On the Air!

Seki: Hello everyone. It’s Sunday, July 27—the fourth Sunday of July—so it’s Oyako Day itself. Yoshiko, Bruce, congratulations!

Yoshiko Inoue: Today’s Oyako Day photo session is a bit different—we’re streaming from Hayama.

Seki: And today, we’re connecting live with many people from various locations—this is a groundbreaking multi-site broadcast. Bruce, could you introduce some recent photos?

Bruce Osborn: This is by Tetsuya Chiba.

Seki: Yes—the famed creator of “Ashita no Joe.”

Bruce Osborn: We visited him.

Yoshiko Inoue: Until now people came to our studio, but from here on we’ll visit the families we’ve met—homes, workplaces—go to their “castles,” so to speak.

Seki: A “Traveling Oyako Day,” then.

Yoshiko Inoue: That’s right. The very first one was at Mr. Chiba’s place.

Seki: They both have such great expressions.

Yoshiko Inoue: Exactly—so many treasures. Joe and all… I feel like taking pictures anywhere.

Seki: Truly a trove of masterpieces. “Notari Matsutaro,” too; I was watching from “Harris no Kaze.”

Bruce Osborn: He really loved our T-shirt and wore it.

Seki: I see. I’m excited for more Traveling Oyako Day sessions.

Introducing “Oyako Day” in Abiko

Seki: First, we’re connecting with Mr. Tetsu Nakamura, who hosted Oyako Day in Abiko last week. Hello!

Tetsu Nakamura: Good morning.

Seki: Where are you now?

Tetsu Nakamura: Believe it or not—Hayama.

Seki: It’s calm today. Please tell us how Oyako Day in Abiko went.

Tetsu Nakamura: Sure. Could you put up the photo?

Tetsu Nakamura: Abiko has a freshwater lake called Teganuma. We held one activity on the pier by the boat dock. You can see the Oyako Day flag behind us. We had kids join in, holding placards and taking part.

Tetsu Nakamura: We started this event in 2022—this was our fourth year. The African drumming group playing djembe that joined us the first time came again. They held an open drumming circle beside the pier where children could join freely. It was wonderful.

This is Abiko’s lifelong learning center “Abista.” We reserved almost the whole facility. This is the tatami room, where we lined up picture books for families to read on the mats. Surprisingly, some small children had never experienced tatami. Rolling around while reading together—it turned into a really nice corner.

Seki: Thanks to you, Abiko has more and more events.

Tetsu Nakamura: There are already people doing great things; the key is linking them. When everyone gathers or collaborates, new ideas come up—so I think it’s creating a positive flow.

Tetsu Nakamura: This is the cooking workshop—looks like they’re making dumplings.

Seki: How many events were happening simultaneously?

Tetsu Nakamura: Inside Abista we had about ten sessions in total.

Seki: Impressive. Do you plan to continue every year?

Tetsu Nakamura: Yes—my goal is ten years. We’ve done four, so six to go.

Seki: With such popularity, people will say “don’t stop!”

Tetsu Nakamura: We also have support from the city and the board of education. Since it’s a public center, costs are minimal—mainly usage fees and flyers. Each group runs its piece independently when we all gather.

Seki: I see. Thank you—and stay cool!

Tetsu Nakamura: Thank you!

Seki: That was Mr. Nakamura from Abiko’s Oyako Day. He’s heading out to surf now.

Bruce’s Photo Exhibition at the Hakone Art Festival

Seki: From Abiko to Hakone—Bruce’s photos are on display at the Hakone Art Festival. Hello, Mr. Endo. Could you introduce yourselves?

Kei Endo: I’m Kei Endo, in charge of the Museum of Photography at the Hakone Museum.

Eiko Endo: I’m Eiko Endo. We launched the Hakone Art Festival, with the Hakone Museum of Photography serving as the secretariat.

Seki: Thank you for joining.

Endo: We started the Hakone Art Festival, and our museum is currently the secretariat.

Seki: I see. You’ll show us around today? What’s the concept this year?

Endo: We now have 27 venues. The concept is to move around Hakone and enjoy art throughout the town.

Seki: Here are Bruce’s photos.

Kei Endo: Yes—18 works. We held a Bruce Osborn exhibition at our museum last year, and invited him again this year as a central artist. This facility is Hakone’s Social Education Center—they’ve kindly provided it free of charge.

Eiko Endo: These are Bruce’s works displayed on the second floor—18 works in total across both floors, including large tapestry-style pieces.

And here is a work by Tadanori Yokoo in Hakone Town. Facing it is Bruce’s photo of the Yokoo parent-and-child; there’s a space for enjoying the piece. The exhibition runs through August 31, with free admission. Locals love it—his Ultraman photo piece, the portraits of Yuzo Kayama and Ken Uehara are also popular.

Yoshiko Inoue: We’re so grateful to exhibit in such a lovely place. I hope many people will see it.

Seki: It’s 35°C in Tokyo—cooler in Hakone?

Endo: The max here is around 32°C.

Seki: Then it’s a bit of a summer retreat—come see Bruce’s photos, enjoy people, art, and hot springs.

Yoshiko Inoue: It’s wonderful—so much greenery, and places where both kids and adults can play. Please come!

Seki: I’ll visit during summer.

Endo: We’ll be waiting.

A Message from Bruce’s Daughter, Mika

Seki: Since it’s Oyako Day, Bruce’s daughter Mika and her family are joining us. Hello—where are you today?

Mika: Philadelphia.

Seki: Is it hot there?

Mika: It is.

Seki: A flaming-hot Oyako Day, then—please share a message for your parents.

Mika: You’ve kept this beautiful Oyako Day going for years—even through COVID. I’m so happy you can do photo sessions again. Keep it up!

Yoshiko Inoue: And Dad’s feeling great again.

Seki: Everyone supported the family during Bruce’s health chapter—we could really feel the bonds. Wonderful, isn’t it?

Yoshiko Inoue: Mika’s husband Justin and Mika researched so hard and found a hospital in the U.S. where Bruce could have surgery—thanks to that, he’s this healthy now. Justin, thank you so much!

Justin: Of course! No problem!

Announcing the 19th Oyako Grand Prize!

Seki: This year’s Oyako Grand Prize has been decided! The winners are photographer Ittetsu Morishita and his daughter Miho. For nearly half a century they have photographed the lives of hibakusha and advocated for nuclear abolition worldwide. He is also the founder of the NPO “World Hibakusha Exhibition.”

We selected photographer Ittetsu Morishita and his daughter Miho for their meaningful work—especially in times like these. Congratulations! Ms. Morishita, are you with us?

Miho Morishita: Yes, I’m here.

Seki: You’ve joined our online talk live before, but today as a Grand Prize recipient—how do you feel?

Miho Morishita: Honestly, last year in Hiroshima I thought of stopping our photo exhibitions. It’s hard to keep expanding this activity. But when we did a show in Saga this year, the response—like in Hiroshima—was overwhelming. Even so, continuing steadily is tough… and then Ms. Inoue told me, “We’d like to award Miho the Oyako Grand Prize,” and I felt encouraged again.

Seki: Like getting a push on your back.

Miho Morishita: It made me glad we kept going. It felt like a huge gift—I burst into tears. Since my father passed away, I hadn’t been able to cry… I was truly happy. Thank you so much.

Yoshiko Inoue: Congratulations. This year marks Showa 100 and 80 years since the end of the war. There’s no one more fitting than you and Ittetsu. We decided to present you the Grand Prize—congratulations!

Miho Morishita: Thank you—I’m grateful. I think I can keep going a while longer.

Seki: What are your plans from here?

Miho Morishita: I want to hold an exhibition within the year. For funding, Mr. Naoto Anzai—right here beside me—is running around helping.

Seki: Mr. Anzai, a word please.

Naoto Anzai: Thank you for this wonderful prize—it revived our motivation. This year marks 80 years since the war and the bombings, and many things are happening. But it’s not the end—this is where we begin. From this summer to the summer of 2030, we aim to expand the Hibakusha Exhibition around the world.

Miho’s father, Ittetsu Morishita, had said we would bring the photos to 100 countries by 2020. We aren’t there yet, but we’ll reset and push out globally.

People in Toronto, New York, and Los Angeles have already invited us. We want to spread across the U.S., so we hope everyone will support us.

Yoshiko Inoue: The world feels unstable in many ways, so we want to grow movements like this. Oyako Day, of course, and the message of treasuring life—we want to keep sharing that.

Miho Morishita: We have only two photos of my father and me together taken by Bruce, so they’re true family treasures. They’re displayed in our old Japanese house. It was the first and last time—so I’m deeply grateful to Bruce for taking them.

We wore “No Nukes” T-shirts made by young people. My father insisted on standing at the venue even though he used a wheelchair—he said, “A wheelchair is unbecoming; I’ll stand.” It was tough to support him, so I’m barefoot in the photo.

Seki: In the photo he looks robust.

Miho Morishita: Thanks to Bruce.

Seki: We look forward to your continued work—please keep it up.

For the Finale: Everyone Shouts “Oyako Forever!”

Seki: Yoshiko, Bruce—we’re nearly out of time. For a wrap-up, could you share your hopes and outlook for Oyako Day?

Bruce Osborn: Yesterday in Hayama we had people come for the event, and on Oyako Day many gather to take photos—it’s so much fun.

Yoshiko Inoue: I was thrilled people remembered us at the Hayama event. Drawing energy from everyone—once we clear this year, there’s next year. I suddenly thought, let’s do Oyako Day in New York next year. Whether it happens or not, we’ve got a year to plan—let’s try.

Seki: I’ll come along—oh wait, I have to be here.

Yoshiko Inoue: No—let’s plan it.

Bruce Osborn: Yes.

Seki: Thank you all for joining us today. Shall we end with something we all say together?

Yoshiko Inoue: How about “Oyako Forever”?

Seki: Great—on three. “Ready—go!”

All: Oyako Forever!

Seki: Thank you—have a wonderful day!

The post Transcript Edition – The 23rd “Oyako Day” Special Live appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.

Guest: Hiroichi Yanase (Professor, Institute for Liberal Arts, Tokyo University of Science)
Moderator: Satoru Seki (Editor, Producer)
Hosts: Bruce Osborn (Photographer), Yoshiko Inoue (Oyako Day Promotion Committee)
Organizer: Oyako Day Promotion Committee
Broadcast Date: June 29, 2025 (Sun) 1:00 PM (LIVE)

Our guest for the 35th Online Talk Live is Professor Hiroichi Yanase.
This article features highlights from the live video interview.
<Watch the video [here]>

Participants:

Hiroichi Yanase (Professor, Tokyo University of Science, Institute for Liberal Arts)

Born 1964. After graduating from Keio University, he joined Nikkei McGraw-Hill (now Nikkei BP) and edited many best-selling books. Since 2018, he has been Professor of Media Studies at Tokyo University of Science. Major works include “Route 16,” “My Father’s Encoffinment,” “Kingfisher City Tokyo,” and “Anpanman and the Japanese.” “Route 16” won the Seii Teshima Memorial Research Award. He is also active in environmental conservation around the Miura Peninsula, Kanagawa, for nearly 30 years, and works as a radio host on TBS and Shibuya Radio.

Satoru Seki (Editor, Producer)

Has contributed to culture magazines like “POPEYE,” “BRUTUS,” and “Takarajima.” Currently also a part-time lecturer and director of the Stimulus Switch Laboratory. Responsible for the “Movie Oyako-don” section of the Oyako Day website.

Bruce Osborn (Photographer, Oyako Day Originator)

Began photographing parents and children in 1982. Established “Oyako Day” (fourth Sunday of July) in 2003. Winner of the Higashikuninomiya Culture Award for social impact, and continues to spread his message “Present to the Future.”

Yoshiko Inoue (Chair, Oyako Day Promotion Committee; Producer; CEO, Ozone Co.)

Produced numerous exhibitions and events as Bruce Osborn’s partner in both work and life.

Introducing Professor Yanase

Seki: Hello! For our 35th Oyako Day Online Talk, we welcome Professor Yanase from Tokyo University of Science.

Yanase: Thank you for having me.

Seki: Could you please introduce yourself?

Yanase: I teach media studies at the Institute for Liberal Arts. I’m not an academic by training; I worked for 30 years as a journalist, book editor, and online producer at Nikkei BP. Seven years ago, I moved into university life thanks to a lucky connection.

Route 16 and Japanese Culture

Seki: You’ve produced a lot of best-sellers. I especially enjoyed “Route 16.”

Yanase: Route 16 is a ring road circling four prefectures of Tokyo—326 km in total. In the early 1990s, Japan saw a roadside business boom, and the economy shifted that way. As a magazine reporter, I documented that transformation.

Seki: And then Yuming, Southern All Stars, and all sorts of modern culture got mixed in. It became wild, didn’t it?

Yanase: Yes. Many artists have sung about Route 16—Yuming, Off Course, and now Yokoyama Ken from Crazy Ken Band.

Seki: Places like Fussa along Route 16 always felt grown-up and mysterious.

Yanase: It was full of American culture. The first places to sell Western music, movies, foreign cars, imported furniture—all started along Route 16. Even the pizza chain “Nicholas” was there.

Anpanman: Japan’s Shared Language

Bruce: I love Anpanman too! Did you watch it with your daughter?

Yanase: One reason I wrote “Anpanman and the Japanese” is my daughter’s obsession—she was hooked before her first birthday. When she got a shot at the hospital, the nurse drew Anpanman’s face on her bandage. For about three years—until kindergarten—it was Anpanman every day. It amazed me how powerful that character is. I soon learned nearly every family experiences this.

Seki: He’s the world’s 6th biggest character business—worth 7 trillion yen!

Yanase: Nearly every baby born in Japan is, in some way, an Anpanman fan. When I surveyed students at Tokyo University of Science, 90% said they grew up with Anpanman. Almost everyone!

Yoshiko: That’s why Anpanman is a topic anyone can talk about. It’s a national common language.

Seki: I see—it really is a shared language.

Expanding Ideas from Personal Experiences

Seki: Your book “My Father’s Encoffinment” was very moving too—about becoming an “okuribito.”

Yanase: In 2021, my father passed away at 87. Because of COVID, we couldn’t hold a normal funeral, so we did a wake at home. The mortician offered to let us help dress my father. I helped with everything, start to finish.

Seki: You always start from personal experiences and then share new insights with readers. That’s your magic, I think.

Yanase: I can’t think about things in the abstract. I always start from what I’ve actually seen or touched, then let my imagination run wild from there.

Yanase’s “Layered Thinking” Method

Seki: Most people can’t develop ideas like that. What’s your secret?

Yanase: I call it “layered thinking.” Everything has layers—think of it as an underlying structure. For example, geography is at the bottom. The shape of the land influences culture, food, and even the local ecosystem.

In Japan, most towns are shaped by rivers—large river basins like the Tone River or small ones like Hayama’s Morito River. On top of that, people settle, and civilization develops in unique ways in each place.

Even if you enter through surface layers like fashion or music—say, Crazy Ken Band’s song “Mikasa Park beyond the tunnel”—you realize Miura is a classic rias coastline: hardly any flat land, seven tunnels in three kilometers. I think Yokosuka has the highest tunnel density in Japan. You start to see how the underlying geography shapes culture and history.

Seki: That’s real “Earth-diver” thinking.

Yanase: You can enter at any layer. Surface fashion, mid-layer military history—it doesn’t matter. Take the “Sukajan” (souvenir jackets) of Yokosuka—they come from the region’s silk-weaving heritage, which grew because U.S. military personnel bought them as souvenirs. So, the story of the U.S. bases and even deeper, the land itself, all stack up. Making those kinds of connections is just my habit.

Seki: Japan’s landscape is so narrow that everything is layered on top of each other. In places like the American West, it’s nothing like that, right?

Yanase: Where the “layers” are broad, you can build big cities in a planned way. But Japan’s land is steep, complex, and harsh—so towns and economies can only develop as the landscape allows. That’s why features like earthquakes and tsunamis are such powerful forces in Japan.

Swimming with Dolphins on Mikura Island

Seki: The conversation is jumping a bit, but could you explain the photo of your child swimming with dolphins?

Yanase: Mikura Island is a small island between Miyake and Hachijo in the Izu chain. Nearly the whole place is cliffs, with about 250 people living clinging to the land. 90% is old-growth forest. And it’s the only place in the world with a resident dolphin population of over 100.

I’ve gone almost every year for over thirty years—my daughter first came when she was four. The water’s 20 meters deep and you can see dolphins swimming below you. There’s so much you can only experience here: no convenience stores, just swimming with dolphins, hiking, and napping. I love it.

Seki: How do you get there?

Yanase: A big Tokai Kisen ferry leaves Tokyo’s Takeshiba Pier every day. It circles Miyake, Mikura, and Hachijo in about 24 hours.

Bruce: All still Tokyo, right?

Seki: It’s a real hidden gem.

Looking Ahead: Next Projects

Seki: Could you share your future plans?

Yanase: I’m working on two books: one is a summary of my media studies classes, and the other is about city planning for high schoolers. Right now, most urban planning ignores the essential “layer” stories.

I want to explain to the next generation how to build towns as populations decline. There are two key points: transportation and water. Hayama is a great example—there’s no train station.

Yoshiko: Just buses, cars, walking, or bikes.

Yanase: As the population ages, public transportation gets harder, and people rely more on cars. Except for central Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka, Japan’s been a car society for 30 years, but most politicians, media, and scholars live in central Tokyo and don’t realize it.

So when people call for more walkable towns, they always forget to ask, “How do you get there?”

The Importance of Water and Living Things

The base of every town is transportation. In America’s Wild West, it was all about where the stagecoaches could stop. But for both horses and people, water is the true essential. Towns simply can’t exist without it—that’s the second key point.

Places with water are limited, which is why cities get concentrated. In Europe and America, water is scarce, so cities are naturally compact. In Japan, every valley head has a spring, so communities tend to spread out more.

I want to help the next generation think about city building in terms of these fundamental issues. That’s why I’m writing these books for high schoolers and middle schoolers.

Seki: That’s a big topic!

Oyako Day Event Announcements

Seki: Yoshiko, could you share some announcements?

Yoshiko: Oyako Day is July 27. We’re running a photo contest and an essay contest—entries are open until August 31. Please take some wonderful photos and send them in! There’s also a photo exhibition at the Hilton from July 3, plus other shows in Hakone and more. Details are on our website, so please come if you’re nearby.

Seki: What other events will there be for Oyako Day this year?

Yoshiko: We’re planning to host a parent-child photo session in Hayama, our hometown, and will share details online. Hope you’ll join us!

Yanase’s “Present to the Future”

Seki: To close, may we have your “Present to the Future” message?

Yanase: For me, it’s “Living things and water.” I live in central Tokyo, but even there, if there’s a stream, you’ll find lots of life. There are over 700 natural springs in Tokyo, mostly surrounded by parks—nature preserved by people before us.

Even inside the Yamanote Line, you’ll find rhinoceros beetles and dragonflies. Just because you’re in the city doesn’t mean there’s no nature. If you look, you’ll find creatures living by the water’s edge. I think it’s wonderful to search for water and discover life. Even in the city, you can find other lives intertwined with your own.

Seki: That’s the perfect topic for a summer science project.

Yanase: This is Senzoku Pond near my university. It’s home to goshawks and small hawks called tsumi.

Seki: There are always lots of people taking photos there.

Yanase: There are so many “kingfisher uncles” with their cameras, too.

Yoshiko: Even in the city, you see flowers growing from cracks in the concrete. Wild creatures are resilient, and with a little care from humans, we can live together anywhere.

Yanase: Absolutely.

Seki: Let’s keep an eye out for all the living things—and for water. Thank you for your inspiring story.

Yanase: It was a pleasure.

Seki: Thanks everyone—see you next time!

The post Text Edition: 35th Online Talk Live with Hiroichi Yanase – “Present to the Future” appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.

Guest: Tetsuya Chiba (Manga Artist)
Host: Satoru Seki (Editor/Producer)
Facilitators: Bruce Osborn (Photographer), Yoshiko Inoue (Oyako Day Promotion Committee)
Organizer: Oyako Day Promotion Committee
Streamed Live: January 21, 2024, 10:00 AM JST

For our 19th Online Talk Live, we welcome legendary manga artist Tetsuya Chiba.
This article presents a full, unedited transcript of Mr. Chiba’s vivid recollections of his wartime childhood, told in his own words and illustrated with his own drawings—just like a live kamishibai (Japanese picture story show).

<Watch the full video here>

Participants:

Tetsuya Chiba (Manga Artist)

Born January 11, 1939, in Tokyo. Lived in Fengtian (now Shenyang, China) during the war, then returned to Japan. Debuted as a professional manga artist in 1956. His most famous works include “Ashita no Joe,” “Notari Matsutaro,” and many others.

Satoru Seki (Editor/Producer)

Worked on culture magazines like “POPEYE,” “BRUTUS,” and “Takarajima.” He is also a part-time lecturer and director of the Stimulus Switch Laboratory, and runs the “Movie Oyako-don” feature on the Oyako Day website.

Bruce Osborn (Photographer, Oyako Day Originator)

Began photographing parents and children in 1982. In 2003, established “Oyako Day” on the fourth Sunday of July. Recipient of the Higashikuninomiya Culture Prize for social activities through Oyako Day. Continues to send out his message, “Present to the Future.”

Yoshiko Inoue (Chair, Oyako Day Promotion Committee; Producer; CEO, Ozone Co.)

Produced numerous exhibitions and events as Bruce Osborn’s partner in both work and life.

Tetsuya Chiba Shares His Wartime Memories

Seki: Welcome to our very first live stream of 2024! Today we’re joined by manga legend Tetsuya Chiba. Thank you so much for being here.

Chiba: Thank you for having me.

Seki: For many of us, your work is a part of our lives. I grew up reading your manga—”Harris no Kaze,” “Ore wa Teppei,” and “Notari Matsutaro”—stories about outsiders struggling and fighting back. These days, we don’t see those kinds of stories as much, so I really want to learn from your spirit of resistance and never giving up.

Childhood in Manchuria: Experiencing the End of the War

Seki: I’d like to start by asking what made you want to become a manga artist. I know you brought some drawings, so could you walk us through your story—starting with your family’s repatriation from Manchuria?

Chiba: This is the part of Manchuria where we lived, in northeastern China. See the area outlined in red? Doesn’t it look like a bird taking flight? When I was a child, my parents told me, “This is where we live,” and I thought, “It looks like a bird in the sky.” We lived around the “leg” of the bird, near Fengtian—now called Shenyang. Although I was born in Tokyo, my parents moved to China for work when I was little, so I grew up there until I was six years old.

Seki: So you experienced the end of the war at six. That must have changed everything.

Chiba: We actually had a good life there. My father worked at a printing factory, and we lived in company housing behind high concrete walls—everyone around us was either a colleague or family. But when the war ended, everything changed. Suddenly, “This is Chinese land now,” we were told. The factory, the houses—everything that was Japanese was taken away or transferred to the Chinese. We had to flee back to Japan, but it wasn’t easy.

Memories of Manchuria

Chiba: What you see here is tanghulu—a local treat from Manchuria. It’s a skewer of little crabapples, coated in syrup that freezes and cracks when you bite it. The candy is sweet and the fruit is tart inside. Even today, you can still find street vendors selling tanghulu in China in the wintertime. I loved them.

Chiba: That’s my younger brother in the picture too, holding his own tanghulu. I always had a bit of a wanderer’s spirit—despite living in the factory compound, I was always sneaking out to explore the city, even if it meant getting lost. The Chinese townspeople were very kind. There were plenty of Japanese kids and lots of stalls selling things like steamed buns or birds. I got treats from all kinds of people.

Seki: So you have some really good memories from that time?

“We Might Be Separated”—The Family Photo Taken in a Hurry

Chiba: See how battered this photo is? There are creases everywhere. I’m amazed we managed to bring it home. There are four boys here—my brothers and me. I’m the eldest, just left of center with the big forehead. The one being held by my father is my brother Akio, who also became a manga artist. The youngest, Shigeyuki, is in our mother’s arms. When this was taken, things were tense—Japan had likely lost the war, and my father was in danger of being drafted. My parents hurried to take this photo, thinking we might soon be separated forever. It got battered as we carried it through all our travels, but somehow we held onto it.

Chiba: This is my father with one of his Chinese friends. He was the type who could get along with anyone—Chinese, Mongolian, Korean, it didn’t matter. They’d all share meals at our house. Later, it was these friendships that helped save our family. Looking back, I’m grateful for how important those relationships were.

The Night the Emperor’s Speech Was Broadcast—And an Attack

Chiba: This drawing shows the printing factory compound where we lived. That day—August 15th—we were all called to the manager’s office. We listened to the Emperor’s radio broadcast announcing Japan’s surrender. I still remember the cicadas singing in the summer heat and the sight of the grown women crying.

Seki: This is a really moving drawing.

Chiba: I drew it from memory. That night, the sky glowed red with dust—maybe it was the famous yellow dust storms of China. As I watched the sunset, a group of people climbed over the high wall into our compound. They carried sticks and clubs. It was a riot—many Chinese and Korean people, angry at how the Japanese had lorded over them during the occupation, came to seek revenge. I remember thinking I saw familiar faces, friends of my father’s, but my mother grabbed me and said, “Tetsu, get inside!” Our house wasn’t touched, but I heard the sounds of windows breaking and people screaming nearby. It was frightening.

Escaping by Night—Our Family on the Run

Chiba: Not long after, we realized we couldn’t stay. We packed everything—old photos, baby supplies, anything essential—into bags. Because of the danger, we could only travel at night. At midnight, we snuck out the back gate and started our escape.

Chiba: This scene shows us walking through the darkness. I was so tired I was half asleep.

Chiba: There are six of us: my father carrying Akio on his shoulders, my mother carrying the youngest, and me holding my father’s hand, half-asleep. Even today, many people around the world are fleeing wars, forced to leave their homes just like we did nearly 80 years ago.

Saved by My Father’s Chinese Friend

Chiba: There was a time when I got separated from my family because my feet were bleeding and I couldn’t walk. Suddenly, a man in a conical hat appeared, carrying a long stick. I was terrified—he might attack us. But it turned out to be one of my father’s old Chinese friends. We’d shared meals, books, and poetry together. In that vast city, to run into him—especially in the middle of the night, while I was lost and desperate—was nothing short of a miracle. Thanks to him, all six of us were safely reunited.

Chiba: We stayed at his house for a while. Space was tight, so we hid in the attic, which was usually used for storing onions and potatoes—though there was no food left in those days. We hid there until it was safe to move again.

How I Became a Manga Artist: The Origins

Seki: You were drawing even back then?

Chiba: My younger brothers were restless, wanting to go outside—especially when they could hear Chinese children playing. To keep them quiet, I drew pictures on whatever scraps of paper I could find and told them stories, like a one-boy kamishibai. I didn’t realize it then, but that was the beginning of my life as a storyteller and manga artist.

My mother later said, “Remember when you drew pictures for your brothers in that attic? That’s probably where it all started.” Wanting to entertain my brothers, to keep them from getting bored, became a part of who I am as a creator.

Chiba: This is Mr. Xu, my father’s Chinese friend, in the foreground. He taught us how to buy and sell vegetables and other things in the market—how to survive by peddling goods. My father wore a conical hat and pretended to be Chinese so we wouldn’t get in trouble. We sold to Japanese people in hiding, who desperately needed supplies. Whatever didn’t sell, we ate ourselves.

A 300km Trek to the Repatriation Ship

Chiba: This drawing shows us heading toward the port to catch the ship back to Japan. Off in the distance, you can see a railroad embankment. We wanted to take the train, but all the trains were taken by the Chinese army, so we walked almost the entire way. Our hometown was near Fengtian, and we were headed for Huludao Port, which was the closest place we could catch a repatriation ship to Japan.

Chiba: This was when we finally reached the port. It took almost a year—by then I was seven. People had come from even further north, and everyone was exhausted.

Chiba: Here we are, waiting to board the ship at Huludao. Some families had traveled even farther than ours—300 kilometers or more—just to get here. Everyone was tired and worn out, but at last, there was hope.

Chiba: On the ship, they gave us rations—hardtack biscuits with holes in them, and a thin soup with a bit of soy sauce and cabbage. After so long surviving on millet and scraps, these simple foods tasted like heaven.

Arrival in Japan—Seeing My Homeland from My Father’s Arms

Chiba: When the ship finally reached Japan—Hakata Port—someone shouted, “Japan is in sight!” and we all rushed to the deck. My father lifted me up in his arms so I could see our homeland. It had taken us a year since the end of the war to return home.

Chiba: When we reached my father’s hometown, we arrived late at night and knocked on my grandmother’s door. She didn’t open up at first, but when she realized who it was—her son Masaya and his family, now with four kids—she was so surprised she could hardly believe it.

Chiba: We stayed with family for a while. Later, my father got a job in Tokyo and built a small house in Mukojima, Sumida ward. That’s me in the drawing with the shaved head, surrounded by my brothers and neighborhood kids.

Discovering Manga in Elementary School

Chiba: After we came back, I started elementary school in Chiba prefecture. Classes were crowded, and sometimes we had to attend in shifts. When we moved to Tokyo, I met a boy named Kiyuchi, the son of a Buddhist priest. He was big, and I was small, but he drew manga. Until then, I didn’t even know manga existed. I’d seen picture books, but not comics. Kiyuchi would peek at my drawings and say, “You’re good! Want to draw manga with me?” That was my first exposure to this world, and it was a real culture shock.

The War Didn’t End with Surrender—Hardship Continues

Chiba: Even after we returned, life was still incredibly hard. My parents always gave what little food we had to the children—I never actually saw them eat. My mother even lost her milk from malnutrition, so she would chew up millet and spit it into my youngest brother’s mouth. We all suffered from malnutrition and illness after coming home. Just because the war was over didn’t mean life was suddenly peaceful; the scars lingered for years. Many people died from hunger on the streets. The suffering didn’t end with surrender.

Chiba: The weakest—children, women, the elderly, and the sick—were often the first to collapse. Even now, the tragedy of war still feels very real to me.

Seki: It’s important that voices like yours are heard, especially with so many conflicts happening in the world today.

The Importance of Sharing Wartime Memories

Chiba: There are still a few people left who experienced the war firsthand, but most are in their 80s, 90s, or older. Soon there will be no one left to tell these stories. We have to keep passing them on—so people know just how terrible war is. Every war happens because someone profits from it. The ones with power make the decisions, but it’s always the innocent who suffer. We must never forget this, and we must do everything we can to stop it.

Yoshiko: Even today, when a war ends, the pain and scars remain for years. Please keep sharing these memories so we never forget.

Tetsuya Chiba’s “Present to the Future”

Seki: Thank you so much, Mr. Chiba. As we wrap up, could you share a message for the future?

Chiba: I drew this piece as my “gift to the future.” Japan is a country that has survived disasters and war. Now, our athletes bravely compete on the world stage in baseball, soccer, and more—but as a nation, we have a commitment to never again start a war. That’s something I hope all young people will take to heart. That is Japan’s true pride, and it’s my message to future generations.

Seki: Thank you. That’s a message we’ll remember.

Yoshiko: The spirit of Oyako Day is about cherishing the life we receive from our parents and passing it on to the next generation. I’m so grateful you could share your story with us today.

Seki: Thank you so much for spending this time with us.

Chiba: Thank you very much.

The post Text Edition: 19th Online Talk Live with Tetsuya Chiba – “Present to the Future” (Special War Memories) appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.