remembering Ron...

Early Wednesday morning I opened up my email and discovered some pretty devastating news. Ron Takaki, one of the most prolific academics of our time had just passed away. It’s all still sinking in. If you want more information, please refer to the L.A. Times article that was just posted. For now, I’d like to take a moment (like many of you have and will) to reflect on the ways in which Ron has impacted my academic career.

I didn’t have the honor of reading Ron’s work until my senior year when I was assigned Pau Hana. I liked the book and appreciated the writing style. However, I wasn’t fully impacted by Ron and his work until I started grad school at UC Berkeley. You can only imagine how sureal it was for me to take a class with him during my first semester at Cal.

It was in Ron’s seminar where I developed my “brick.” I’m sure many students remember Ron and his story about finding and developing your brick - the idea, the subject, the topic that will carry you through your academic work. Basically, when you find your brick, it’s that brick that leads to building a foundation, which then leads to building a home. It was his way of letting us know that whatever you choose to study, it all starts with finding our brick. It’s sort of like finding your perfect dance partner. When you find your brick (or your dance partner) there's only one way to go: forward.

The brick that I found in Ron’s class is quite different than what it is now. But I will always remember Ron for his kindness and his support of my current dissertation project. Though we had our disagreements on the direction of the project, I will always be thankful to Ron for helping me chip away at what has become my lifelong work.

Anyone who has ever known or met Ron will agree that he is a kind and giving person. As a first year graduate student at the time, I found it extremely helpful to hear him talk about his work. He invited the class to his home on several occasions. The trip I remember the most was when he showed us all of his books and then proceeded to show us the process of how he came to write those books. We saw it all – how he wrote his drafts, how he took notes, how he marked his books, etc. It was like being in the home of a major chef and that chef was sharing how he came to develop all his culinary secrets. Though Ron didn't give us the ingredients to his secret sauce, he did give us the tools to create our own. This is how generous Ron was. Ron understood what it was to foster the next generation of academics. What I remember most about those trips to his home are the old photos of him growing up in Hawai`i. There's one in particular that I remember. It was of him surfing and that story of "Ten Toes Takaki." Those visits to his home gave me insight to Ron as both a scholar and as a person. These lessons are priceless.

The following semester I had the honor of being his Graduate Student Instructor (GSI). In fact, he asked me to put in an application. I didn’t know I’d actually get the job. But I was so glad to be a GSI because I was part of one of the last cohorts of GSIs for his class. I learned a lot about what it is to engage students in the learning process and to help them develop critical thinking and writing skills. He was also good at giving his GSIs the chance conduct a lecture in a large survey course. It was this class where I “introduced” my research.

Overall, I have fond memories of Ron. He leaves an incredible legacy and has inspired generations of scholars, activists, and critical thinkers. My sincerest condolences go to his family.