I was breathing in a tribal town in the year 1969.

I was breathing in a tribal town in the year 1969.
Unpaved streets, wooden row houses, and days when every time I said my name, I felt a cold look from somewhere.
Everyone pretended not to see it, but there was indeed a line drawn there.

## The ideal of horizontality and our reality

The National Horizontal Society, of which we should have been proud.
The words of human emancipation that its founders set forth were so straightforward.
However, as time went by, I feel that it was somehow narrowed down to a demand for the rights of the Buraku people.
If we are told to be proud, we may nod our heads in agreement.
But it was only after someone had made a difference that they finally tried to take it back.

## The Gift of Gratitude

Dowa projects--roads are being built, houses are being renewed.
It is gratifying. However, we knew that these measures were based on the premise that discrimination existed somewhere.
A government official told us, "This is a Dowa district. This is a Dowa area.
That one word branded me with another brand.
Once again, the government had proven to me that I was not a normal person.

## Silence in the name of denunciation

In those days, any discriminatory remark was met with unrelenting denunciation.
A scene that made people bow their heads in front of the microphone. Some people shed tears.
But was this really about eliminating discrimination?
At some point, I began to doubt it.
When denunciation became a ritual to make people bow down, rather than to make them understand,
The trust I had in the movement slowly began to wear away.

## Words swallowed by ideology

The Buraku liberation movement began to join hands with socialism and communism.
They say that capitalism is the structure that creates discrimination. I thought, "I see.
But then it seemed that the movement was becoming someone else's tool.
The leaders of the student movement told us that we should come to the demonstrations,
We had our own words.
But we had our own words, and it was painful to have them painted over with the right words from the side.

## Beyond the name, being me

The document said that we should think about human liberation beyond the self-definition of being a Buraku.
I was struck by these words.
You should be proud of your Buraku origin.
But before pride, I wanted freedom.
I had always wanted to be able to laugh in my own voice, to be angry, and to walk the path of my choice without worrying about anyone else's eyes.

## My 1969

That year.
The whole of Japan was in an uproar.
Universities were barricaded, and newspapers were filled with stories about politics and the student movement.
We, the Buraku, were certainly trying to make our voices heard.
But my voice was small and wavering.
Not out of anger, not out of justice.
I just wanted people to see me as a whole person.

## Related Information (References)

For those who want to know and think about that time period as a Buraku native.
Here are some resources.

- Naoki Kato, Discrimination in Japanese Modern History
- Nobuhiko Kakuoka, What is the Buraku Problem?
- Yoshihiro Uehara, Traveling the Alleys of Japan
- Human Rights Enlightenment Materials (Human Rights Protection Bureau, Ministry of Justice)
- Buraku Liberation League, Central Headquarters
- International Movement Against Discrimination IMADR

I was born in the Buraku, and I am still searching for my voice.
It may or may not reach someone.
But I will continue to raise my voice.
As a human being behind the name "Buraku".