From Football to Fourth Grade Fujita

The New England Patriots: my husband's favorite football team (not surprising, since he grew up in Maine!). A few weeks ago, James had the game on TV and the Patriots were playing the New Orleans Saints. I got excited about this game because I used to be friends with one of the football players on the Saints team, Scott Fujita. I have known him since 4th grade, and he has always been superb at whatever sport he played or whatever subject he studied in school. Scott was and is one of the smartest people I've ever known and his intelligence is only outshined by his kindness to other people, his charisma and his hard work ethic. For me, it is simply beyond amazing to watch him on TV now, living out his dream of being professional athlete. He certainly deserves it and he has worked hard academically his whole life as well--talk about a well rounded person and athlete!

(I got so nostalgic talking to James about him, and all of a sudden all the memories of Scott came to the tip of my tongue--it's amazing how one event can trigger a landslide of thoughts!)

When we were in the same 4th and 5th grade classes, he and I would always get the highest scores in the class.  Otherwise, we'd alternate who would outscore the other. He was so smart and I always looked up to him for working so hard in the classroom, on the basketball court, the baseball field, the soccer field, the kickball field, or whatever field he was dominating! He was spectacular to watch, even back then, and everyone always wanted him on their team; he was incredibly popular. He was the epitome of cool and has always maintained that throughout his life.

In 4th grade, I remember having to write an essay in class and going over to Scott's desk to see his essay. He was writing about wanting to see his birth mother. (Scott was adopted by a mixed couple: his father is Japanese-American and his mother is White/Caucasian.) I remember being quite impressed by the depth of his writing; we were only in 4th grade and in that moment, whether he knew it or not, he basically taught me the term, "birth mother." I had never heard that term before and I had never used that phrase, but like a proud 4th grader, I pretended to be familiar with that term anyway. He was so sophisticated and I realized how ignorant and naive I was. I was humbled and I felt like I had seen a different side of Scott that I could never have imagined. It was the first time I encountered another adoptee that was so open about his longing to see his birth mother--it was like he erased the taboo to talk about it. I was just so impressed by his mature ability to articulate this so well in the 4th grade!

In some ways, Scott was the complete opposite of me. I never wanted to talk to other people about my desire to see my birth mother, least of all in a school essay. At that young age, I never told people about my experiences. Scott had the opposite experience: he was immersed in Japanese culture and way of life, so he knew more about Asian cultures than I did. He identified with his Japanese side of the family; he embraced it as his own. He stood out in a different way since he had a Japanese last name, Fujita, whereas I had a Caucasian last name. So, while he had to explain his seemingly incongrous last name, I had to do the same. (I have to add that I find it utterly rude and disgraceful to listen to sports commentators poke fun at and mangle Scott's last name, since the spelling looks similar to the Mexican dish, fajitas. Scott's last name is pronounced differently: "Foo-gee-ta.")

Anyway, one of the last times I saw Scott was in the cafeteria at the Clark Kerr dormitory at Cal Berkeley. He was so sweet and still remembered me after all those years. We didn't go to the same high school, but we ended up at the same college! I'm just glad we didn't end up in the same classes together, because I know he would have thrown off the curve and wrecked my GPA!