By Anthony Alegrete
How does one begin to qualify a life? To document each specific phenomenon and feeling in their own tone and language without blending the feelings together? Oftentimes, specific instances of a life can stand as their own collection, an exploration of that trauma. However, in Traci Kato-Kiriyama’s poetry collection, Navigating With(out) Instruments, these specific instances do not cohere–rather, her story is that of the painful fragmentation of a life. Navigating With(out) Instruments is not a classical poetry collection, instead containing both notes to herself and others, as well as essays that are strewn throughout the collection. This lack of adherence to a specific medium allows for the voice of the collection to be personable and conversational in form in the same way that it is seething, upset, and questioning in content. Kato-Kiriyama is both Japanese American and a member of the LGBTQIA+ community and these facets of their identity become a primary point of questioning and engagement. This is a collection that exists outside itself as much as it is derived from lived and heard experience.
Navigating With(out) Instruments, like many other poetry collections, relies on sections as the guiding organization technique. However, these sections are accompanied by titles commonly pertaining to plays on the word “plane” and its assumed movement, as well as having an image on the title page of each section that mirrors a step in an origami folding tutorial. This linkage of culture throughout the sections that do not pertain to it allows for a strengthened continuity throughout the collection, and showcases the themes of building and reconstruction that Kato-Kiriyama weaves throughout.
Starting with the personal and slowly expanding throughout the course of the collection, Kato-Kiriyama builds rapport with the reader as the dispersal of information and personal details recalls the pattern of a more verbal conversation rather than a written one. Personal moments are discussed early on as the first two sections detail her feelings regarding parenthood and the lessening possibility that she will become one, along with her cancer diagnosis and some of the initial grappling that stemmed from that discovery. It is only near the end of the collection that we see a deeper connection to the speaker through the sharing of personal attachments to things such as Los Angeles rather than a recounting of life events. These poems tend to focus more on the scientific cause, acting as almost a buffer between the event and the emotionality behind it. A noticeable shift in the voice of this collection occurs in Icon 3 with the introduction of Kato-Kiriyama’s grandfather.
The past stands as almost a more emotional present than the physical present throughout the collection. This shift into discussing her family’s cultural heritage blends time, allowing for the reader to see the past’s importance on the judgment of the present. The cultural heritage of Kato-Kiriyama’s Nisei ancestors,specifically her grandfather, stands as a fulcrum for the questioning that occurs later in the collection.
“This is where I wanted to stop
the memory from speaking,
wanted to lean on that Kagoshima
anger, stew
in denial for a minute on how
all offerings from the government
end.”
This is a collection not limited by the classical view of scope; one focused on the depths of a specific topic rather than covering the expanse of a life through multiple varying topics. Instead, it uses this twisting on scope to expand the reader’s definition of connection and societal impact. Kato-Kiriyama starts small within the personal, and slowly expands to moments of her family’s relocation as part of the incarceration of Japanese Americans during WWII, the city of Los Angeles and their feeling inside it, to more abstract and encouraging words about the life of a writer and adherence to that life. This widening of scope strengthens the humanity of the collection. The longer you are with it, the more it is willing to tell you.
Navigating With(out) Instruments is available from Bookshop, Japanese American National Museum, Garden District Book Shop, Loyalty Bookstore, Magers & Quinn Bookseller, and Vroman’s Bookstore.
Anthony Alegrete (he/him) is a poet and writer located in Orange County. He is enrolled in Chapman University’s M.F.A. in creative writing program and is an assistant editor at Tab Journal. He earned his B.A. in English and communications at Santa Clara University. His work has previously been published in 805 and The Santa Clara Review.