단행본: 고베의 재건 (2010)

Editors’ Note: This is a Korean translation of a Teach 3.11 annotation. We invite volunteers to translate and/or contribute content in Korean, Japanese, and Chinese languages. Thank you. (한국어, 일본어, 중국어로 기존의 내용을 번역하거나 새로운 내용을 기고할 자원활동가를 찾고 있습니다.)

Edgington, David W. 2010. Reconstructing Kobe: The Geography of Crisis and Opportunity. University of British Columbia Press.

고베가 도쿄나 다른 일본 도시들이 앞으로 반드시 다가올 위기에 대비할 수 있는 기회를 주었는지는 확실히 알 수 없을지도 모른다. 다음 지진이 일어나고 그 위기를 평가하기 전까지는 그것을 인식할 수 없을 것이다.

이 단락은 데이빗 에징턴(David W. Edgington)이 한신-아와지 대지진에 이은 일본 고베의 10년간의 복구계획과 재건에 대해 쓴 광범위하고 디테일한 책의 마지막 부분이다. 3월 11일에서 석달이 지난 지금, 우리는 재난 복구에 있어서 일본이 고베로부터 무엇을 배웠냐고 물은 그의 질문에 대답하기 시작해도 될 것이다. 에징턴의 연구자료로 판단해보면, 이러한 노력들이 완전히 평가되기 까지는 10년 혹은 그 이상이 걸릴지도 모른다.

브리티시 컬럼비아 대학(University of British Columbia)의 지리학 교수 에징턴은 운명적이었던 1995년 1월 17일의 아침부터 2005년까지 고베의 정치적, 사회적, 그리고 물질적 변화의 윤곽을 추적했다. 에징턴은 이론적 논의는 상대적으로 적으면서, 많은 경험적이고 정량적인 데이터를 사용한 명료한 서술적 설명을 제공했다. 이 책은 수많은 수치와 도표와 사진을 포함하고 있어서 학부생과 대학원생 모두를 아우르는 다양한 독자들에게 분석과 토론을 위한 풍부한 자료를 제공한다. 카트리나 이후의 뉴올리언즈와 같이 재해가 휩쓸고 간 도시들의 복구과정에 대해 연구하거나, 동아시아의 역사적인 재해 이후의 후유증에 대해 조사해 본 학자들은 이 책에서 아주 흥미로운 비교와 새로운 출발점을 찾을 것이다. 또한 이 책은 많은 독자들로 하여금 지금 일본 동부에서 진행중인 복구를 위한 노력과 그 맥락을 이해할 수 있도록 도움을 줄 것이다.

‘위험한 기회’라는 일본어 危機(위기)에서 영감을 얻어, 에징턴은 재난이 일어난 후의 고베를 ‘위기의 지형’과 ‘기회의 지형’의 조각보라고 묘사했다. 이 개념은 그가 인구학, 법적, 정책적 이유, 자금제도, 그리고 한정된 기한의 압력의 설명력을 중시했음에도 불구하고, ‘위기/기회’라는 이중적 개념을 그의 이야기에서 항상 언급되는 공간적 범주와 연결시킨다. ‘미리 존재하는 상황’, ‘재난 그 자체의 구체적 성격’, ‘정부와 비정부기구의 복구 촉진을 위한 노력’, 그리고 ‘정부에 대한 지역 공동체의 태도와 관계’, 이 4가지 범주가 저자의 재앙과 도시의 복구에 관한 논의의 뼈대를 세우는 데 도움을 준다.

4, 5, 6 장은 재난 후 복구에 대한 연구에 관심이 있는 학생들을 위해 가장 흥미로운 생각할 거리를 제공한다. 이 단원들은 고베 대지진 이후, 특히 시에서 많은 희생자들이 아직도 보호소에 있거나 일본 전역에 흩어져 있었고, 희생된 6400명을 애도하고 있었음에도 불구하고 중앙정부의 예산을 획득하기 위해 두 달만에 복구 계획을 발표 했을 때 사람들과 기관 사이의 갈등을 묘사하고 있다. 이러한 계획들은 화난 시민들이 시청을 5시간 가량 둘러 싸고서 한 시민이 나중에 “불 난 집을 터는 도둑 같다”라고 했듯이 시민들의 의견을 묻지 않은 채 그들을 이용한 것에 대하여 농성을 부리는 상황에 맞닥뜨렸다. 시에서는 즉각 태도를 바꿔 복구 계획과 재개발에 있어서 대규모 시민참여 계획을 도입했다.

고베의 재개발 계획에는 지도에서 ‘블랙 존’이라고 불리는 정부의 주요 지원을 받게 될 지역 8개를 파악하는 것이 포함되어 있었다. 이 지역들은 피해의 심각성 뿐만이 아니라, 고베시가 경제적 재개발을 증대시키는 데 이용할 만한 특성과 같이 다른 이유로 인해서도 선택되었다. 에징턴의 연구는 전체 시의 3퍼센트밖에 차지하지 않는 ‘블랙 존’이라고 불리는 곳과, 시의 대부분을 차지하면서 더 심각한 피해를 입은 곳도 있는 ‘화이트 존’ 혹은 그 중간인 ’그레이 존’에 배분된 정부 지원의 불균형을 지적한다.

도시의 역사를 공부하는 학생들은, 고베의 경험이 지역사회 만들기(community-building) 단체의 인기가 고베와 일본 전역에서 1990년대 후반부터 오늘날까지 급증하는데 기여했다는 점에서, 이 연구가 유익하다는 사실을 알게 될 것이다. 고베는 이미 지역 주민들이 도시 계획부서와 함께 일하며 그들의 지역을 공동으로 개발하는 연계 계획의 선구자적 역할을 한 역사를 가지고 있었다. 에징턴은 세가지 사례 연구를 통해 전통적 도시계획과 지역사회 만들기(community-building)에 바탕한 지역계획을 전체 시 규모에서 결합시키는 것은 전적으로 새로운 실험이었고 굉장히 불균둥한 결과를 낳았다는 것을 보여주었다. 재난을 겪은 다른 도시의 사례와 같이, 저자의 고베에 대한 분석은, 파괴와 재개발 자금이 가져다 준 기회의 바람을 잡으려고 서두르는 과정에서, 복구라는 배는 기존의 혹은 새로운 복잡한 사회관계, 답답한 경제적, 정치적 현실, 파괴의 잔해들, 그리고 완전한 새출발이란 불가능하다는 완고한 사실을 헤쳐나가야만 한다는 것을 보여준다.

이 책은 야심차게 넓은 범위를 가지고 있지만, 한권의 책이 고베의 복구계획과 재건을 완전히 다룰 수는 없을 것이다. 좋은 연구는 앞으로의 추가 연구를 위한 질문을 낳는데, 에징턴은 이 책에서 그러한 역할을 했다. 그가 언급한대로, 에징턴의 사례연구는 ‘블랙 존’만을 다루었으며, 그는 정부의 지원 없이 스스로 일어서도록 남겨진 ‘화이트 존’이 사실은 블랙 존보다 더 빨리 복구되었다는 점을 지적했다. 에징턴의 연구는 융통성 없는 법안과 지역 주민과 정부 사이의 논쟁적인 협상이 블랙 존의 복구를 지연시켰다고 주장했다. 그러나 사람들은 ‘화이트 존’과 ‘그레이 존’에 대한 비슷한 사례 연구를 보고 싶어 할 것이다.

에징턴은 노년층, 육체 노동자, 그리고 재일 한국인과 중국인 및 과거 천민층의 후손을 포함한 소수족들의 극심한 취약점을 지적했다. 이 그룹들의 특별한 경험은 더 많고 상세한 조사를 필요로 한다. (이 재앙의 장년층 희생자들에 대한 한 연구서가 이미 출판 되었다. Junko Otani, Older People in Natural disasters: The Great Hanshin Earthquake of 1995. )

마지막으로, 지역 만들기(community-building) 조직들과 (대부분 시에서 나온) 전문 계획 컨설턴트들에 의해 중재된 지역 주민과 시 사이의 협상은, 전문가와 공무원과 지역 주민들간의 상호작용이 일어나는 흥미로운 장소였다. 학생과 학자들은 이 협상이 어떻게 진행되었는지, 어떻게 핵심적인 이슈들이 정해지고 구성되었는지, 어떤 종류의 사회를 건설할 것인가에 대한 전망이 어떻게 표현되고 논쟁되었는지 정확히 알기 위해 협상의 자세한 부분들을 열어 보는 과정에 흥미로움을 느낄 수 있을 것이다.

이 책에 대한 보충자료로서 에징턴 교수가 고베와 센다이를 비교하는 짧은 동영상들을 참고할 수 있다.

- Tyson Vaughan and In Young Kim, trans.

단행본: 지진국가 (2006)

Editors’ Note: This is a Korean translation of a Teach 3.11 annotation. We invite volunteers to translate and/or contribute content in Korean, Japanese, and Chinese languages. Thank you. (한국어, 일본어, 중국어로 기존의 내용을 번역하거나 새로운 내용을 기고할 자원활동가를 찾고 있습니다.)

Clancey, Gregory. 2006. Earthquake Nation: The Cultural Politics of Japanese Seismicity, 1868-1930. University of California Press.

Earthquake Nation 은 비교적 최근–1995년 고베, 2011년 토호쿠와 칸토 지방—에 일어난 “일본 지진활동도(Japanese seismicity)”를 이해하는 데 매우 중요한 역사적 배경을 제공한다. 미국 기술사학회 에서 시상하는 시드니 에델슈타인 상의 2007년 수상작이기도 한 이 책은, 일본의 역사에서도 특히 역동적인 기간 동안 일어난 지진학, 건축학, 공학, 문화, 정치, 그리고 살아있는 지구의 복잡한 상호 작용을 설득력 있게 보여주고 있다.

메이지 시대(1868-1912)는 일본 역사에서 열성적으로 “근대화”에 노력을 기울였던 시기로 종종 그려진다. 이 시기 지진활동도는 일본인들의 자연, 기술, 그리고 “서양”의 지식과 일본을 비롯한 아시아 지역의 지식의 차이에 대한 이해를 형성해 나가는 데 있어 어떤 역할을 하였는가? 또한, 지진활동도의 과학, 기술, 그리고 이의 물리적 경험은 국가 건설, “근대화,” 그리고 제국의 확장에 어떻게 영향을 끼쳤는가? 클랜시는 정보를 풍부하게 담고 있으면서도 이해하기 쉬운 이 책에서, 이와 같은 질문들을 다루고 잇다.

이 책에서 다루고 있는 대부분의 분석과 이야기는 1891년 나고야 부근을 강타한 규모 8.0가량으로 추산되는 노비 대지진에 관한 것이다. 이 지진으로 인해 7,000명 이상이 사망하고 140,000명이 집을 잃었다. 메이지 시대 일본에 혹독한 시련을 가져다 준 재앙이었다. 클랜시는 이 노비 대지진 이전부터 시작하여, 도쿄와 요코하마를 초토화시키고 142,000명 가량이 사망한 것으로 추산되는 규모 7.9의 1923년 칸토 대지진과 이에 따른 화재에 이르기까지 “일본 지진활동도의 문화 정치학”을 추적한다.

클랜시의 주장은 다면적이고 복잡하지만, 그 일부를 들여다 보면 이렇다. 메이지 시대의 과열된 “근대화” (“서양화”)의 열기 속에서, 서양의 벽돌과 석조 중심의 건축물은 근대 문명의 상징이라고 할 수 있는 강하고 영속적이며 남성적인 이미지를 획득한 반면, 일본의 목조 건축 구조는 한물간 전통의 상징적인 모습, 즉, 약하고 일시적이며 여성적인 모습으로 그려졌다. 그러나 노비 대지진으로 인해 유연한 목조 건물들보다 더 만신창이가 된 단단한 석조건물들은 이러한 관념을 송두리째 흔들어 놓았다. 비록 이 지역 풍경은 산산조각이 난 일본식 건축물과 서양식 건축물의 잔해로 엉망이 되었지만, 일본 기자들과 예술가들은 이 지진으로 인하여 명백하게 드러난 서양식 구조의 취약성과 전통 건축물의 상대적인 탄력성이 서로 대조되는 놀라운 현상에 대한 담론을 재구성 해 나갔다. 이는 이후 일본의 국가 건설 프로젝트(궁극적으로는 제국주의적 확장)를 주도하는 새로운 민족주의적인 담론의 재 부상을 불러왔다.

이 책에서 클랜시가 다루고 있는 노비 대지진에 관한 대부분의 내용은 50페이지 가량의 논문으로도 출판되었다.

Clancey, Gregory. 2006. “The Meiji Earthquake: Nature, Nation, and the Ambiguities of Catastrophe.”Modern Asian Studies 40:909-951. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3876638.

– YeonSil Kang

 

논문: 저지대에서의 위험: 2011년 3월 11일 토호쿠 지진과 쓰나미의 역사적 맥락 (2011)

Editors’ Note: This is a Korean translation of a Teach 3.11 annotation. We invite volunteers to translate and/or contribute content in Korean, Japanese, and Chinese languages. Thank you. (한국어, 일본어, 중국어로 기존의 내용을 번역하거나 새로운 내용을 기고할 자원활동가를 찾고 있습니다.)

Smits, Gregory. 2011. “Danger in the Lowground: Historical Context for the March 11, 2011 Tōhoku Earthquake and Tsunami.” The Asia-Pacific Journal 9 (20), May 16

http://www.japanfocus.org/-Gregory-Smits/3531

2011년 3월 11일의 재앙 이후 며칠, 몇 주간 일본의 주요 신문들은 산리쿠 해변의 쓰나미에 대한 역사적인 기록들을 무려 869년의 조간 쓰나미부터 다시 살펴보았다. 아마도 이미 예견된 일이었겠지만, 미디어들은 이 역사적 사례들을 인용하며 후쿠시마 재앙의 위험과 책임소재를 논했다.1

수년간 지진의 문화사를 연구해온 그레고리 스미츠는 The Asia Pacific Journal에 실린 이 글을 통해 바로 이 역사적인 기억과 위험에 대한 이슈를 다루었다. 에도 시대 (1600-1868)와 현대 시대의 쓰나미의 역사를 분석한 결과, 스미츠는 우리를 의기소침하게 만드는 결론에 다다랐다. 즉, 제도화된 기억을 만들 수 있었던 몇몇 사례도 있긴 했지만, 위험에 대한 사람들의 인식은 심지어 한 세대만에도 쉽게 희미해진다는 것이다. 예를 들어, 뉴욕타임스2에 실린 “쓰나미 돌”에 대한 기사를 보면, 쓰나미 돌은 비록 재해에 대한 충분한 경고의 메시지를 담고 있었음에도 불구하고 별다른 관심을 받지 못했고, 사고가 일어난 후에야 재조명 받았다.

스미츠는 토호쿠 대학의 히라가와 아라타의 작업도 인용했다. 히라가와 아라타는 1611년의 끔찍한 쓰나미 이후 도쿠가와 시대의 도로상 우편정거장들이 모두 쓰나미의 사정거리 밖으로 재배치 되었음을 지적하며, 메이지 유신 이후 쓰나미의 위협에 대한 자각이 잊혀져 가고 있다고 주장했다. 스미츠는 또한 재해를 입은 적이 있는 지역의 주민들이 쓰나미의 위험에 어떻게 반응하는지 연구하여, 주민 구성원의 순환이 역사적인 기억을 바탕으로 한 성공적인 예방을 저해할 수 있다는 의견을 내놓았다. 예를 들어, 스미츠는 현대의 도호쿠 지방과 에도 시대의 오사카 지역의 거주민이 유동적이었던 것이 재난에 대한 비효율적인 대응과 유용한 역사적 기억의 손실에 대한 근거가 될 수 있다는 것이다. 이는 비록 도호쿠 지역의 경험으로 인해 각종 준비가 가속화 될 것이라곤 해도, 여전히 기나긴 재해 발생 주기와 인구 변화로 인해 도쿄와 미국의 북서부지역에도 잠재적인 위험 요소가 있음을 의미한다.

그러나 스미츠에 의하면, 온전한 역사적인 기억도 가끔은 경고를 불러일으키는데 실패한다. 하나의 사례로는 1856년 8월 23일에 있었던 산리쿠 해안의 쓰나미가 있는데, 스미츠는 높은 사망률의 원인으로 주민들 사이에 퍼져 있었던 믿음을 지목한 기록을 인용하고 있다. 1611과 1793년의 쓰나미로 볼 때, 쓰나미는 당시 겨울에만 발생하는 것이라는 믿음이 있었다는 것이다. 마찬가지로, 1854년 12월 24일에 오사카를 덮쳤던 쓰나미의 사례를 보면, 지역적으로 멀리 떨어져 있던 이가-우에노에서 일어난 1854년 7월 9일의 지진에 대한 기억이, 오히려 지역적으로 가까워 더욱 중요하게 고려했어야 할 1707년의 호에이 지진과 뒤이은 쓰나미에 대한 기억을 덮어버렸다. 그 결과, 여진의 피해로부터 벗어나고자 지진 이후 배에 올라탔던 수백명의 오사카 주민들은 뒤이은 쓰나미로 인해 사망했다. 이러한 사례들은 비록 역사적인 기억이 시간과 세대를 넘어 보존된다고 하더라도, 다음 재난이 닥쳐왔을 때 안전과 생존에 기여하기는 어려울 수 있다는 결론에 다다르게 한다.

- June Jeon

1. Lyn, Tan Ee. 2011. “Japan’s tsunami history ignored: report; Previous study also downplayed; Size of past waves were not considered when Fukushima nuclear plant was built,” The Gazette (Montreal), April 14.

2. Fackler, Martin. 2011. “Tsunami Warnings for the Ages, Carved in Stone,” The New York Times, April 20.

Article: Disaster Capitalism in Motion: What can we learn from Kobe, a city twice destroyed? (2011)

Editors’ Note: This is a translation of a Teach 3.11 annotation that originally appeared here. We invite volunteers to translate and/or contribute content to Teach 3.11 in any language, including Korean, Japanese, and Chinese. Thank you.

Tsukahara, Tōgo. 2011. “Disaster Capitalism in Motion: What can we learn from Kobe, a city twice destroyed?” Gendai Shisō, vol. 39-7: 202-211.

This essay’s argument, based on Naomi Klein’s notion of “disaster capitalism,” analyzes the “large-scale social reorganization” accompanying the post-3.11 reconstruction effort within its historical context. According to the author, in the wake of the 1995 Hanshin Earthquake, the destroyed city of Kobe was destroyed once more—this time on the level of its organization—by public enterprise under the name of “reconstruction.” The logic of economic and administrative authorities also infringed upon scientific debates concerning environmental and human damage suffered after the disaster. Tsukahara sounds the alarm that this mode of “disaster capitalism,” which takes advantage of a disaster to promote “organizational exploitation,” has also gone into effect in Japan after 3.11, and that “the construction of a system of all-out war is taking place.”

In addition, when we consider 3.11 in light of the history of science, the nuclear disaster “exposes the systemic exhaustion of the post-Three-Mile-Island system, which is comprised of a technologically imperialistic division of roles that places the burden of energy-generating technology on Japan, in exchange for the U.S.’s military technology” and represents “the gushing out of all the problems within the system of scientific technological development established under 19th century imperialism since the Meiji era” (p. 207). As a framework for discussing the scientific response during reconstruction as an extension of these historical circumstances, Tsukahara proposes the concept of a “post-normal science” based on popular knowledge, subsequent to the “normal science” of the past, in which experts had determinative authority.

This essay, useful for understanding 3.11 from a scientific historiography perspective, also proposes the valuable standpoint of thinking of post-3.11 reconstruction in terms of lessons to be learned from the reconstruction of Kobe. It requires historical knowledge of the modern to contemporary periods, and would probably be best suited for students at the college or graduate level.

-Yasuhito Abe, with translation by Jennifer Lillie

書: 《地震國度: 日本地震的文化政治1868-1930 》(中文摘要)

Editors’ Note: This is a Chinese translation of a Teach 3.11 annotation. We invite volunteers to translate and/or contribute content in Korean, Japanese, and Chinese languages. Thank you.

《地震國度: 日本地震的文化政治1868-1930 》

Clancey, Gregory. 2006. Earthquake Nation: The Cultural Politics of Japanese Seismicity, 1868-1930. University of California Press.

《地震國度》幫助我們理解近期日本神戶、東北地區與關東等地區頻繁的地震活動背後的歷史脈絡。《地震國度》榮獲科技史年會(Society for the History of Technology)2007年的Sidney Edelstein獎。此書流暢地闡述日本明治時代中,關於地震學、建築、工程學、文化、政治、土地之間複雜的交互影響。 現代化(modernization)是日本明治時代(1868-1912)的重要特色。在此時期,地震學如何形塑日本社會中諸如「自然」、「科技」、「西方知識」(相較於日本或其他亞洲知識)等概念?地震活動及其相關科學、科技與經驗如何影響了國家建造(state-building)、現代化與日本帝國的擴張?作者 Clancey利用豐富且平易近人的案例來說明這些問題。

強度高達8級的濃尾地震是本書中主要分析的歷史事件。這是於1891年在名古屋附近發生的地震,導致7千人死亡,14萬人無家可歸,對明治政府是個嚴峻的考驗。為了分析「日本地震活動的文化政治性」,作者Clancey從1891年的濃尾地震談起,然後延伸到1923年震度7.9級的關東地震及火災,該地震摧毀東京與橫濱的多數建築,並導致約14萬2千人死亡。

Clancey的論點包括幾個複雜的面向,其中最核心的論點是:在明治時期現代化/西化熱潮下,西式磚瓦、石造建築贏在堅硬、永存且陽剛(作為一種現代文明的象徵),但木製日式建築被形容為脆弱、暫時且陰柔(作為一種被淘汰的傳統的符號)。當濃尾地震毀壞這些堅固石造建築時,濃尾地震已動搖了上述的象徵體系;木造建築於是被當作是具有良好彈性的傳統文化的象徵。雖然當地各地皆是許多日式建築崩壞的遺跡,但日本記者跟藝術家仍然再製了一個新論述來說明日本建築比起西方建築更具有良好彈性。此新論述激發了新的本土文化保護、國族主義式的論述,而這樣的論述也為日本國家建造計畫(state-building)的支持者所接受,此國家建造計劃最終轉變成帝國主義。

對於想使用精簡版本的老師或學生而言,Clancey曾發表一篇50頁關於濃尾地震的文章: Clancey, Gregory. 2006. “The Meiji Earthquake: Nature, Nation, and the Ambiguities of Catastrophe.” Modern Asian Studies 40: 909-951. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3876638.

- Translation by Kuan-Hung Lo

BOOK: Pray for Japan (2011)

Editor’s note: The author of this annotation translated this book into English in April, 2011, while an undergraduate at Pomona College in Claremont, California.

prayforjapan.jp. PRAY FOR JAPAN: 3.11世界中が祈りはじめた日. 講談社, 2011.

Purei fō japan dotto jēpī. PRAY FOR JAPAN: santen’ichiichi sekaijū ga inorihajimeta hi. Tōkyō: Kōdansha, 2011.

In the aftermath of the earthquake and tsunami on March 11, 2011, the volume of messages sent and received by Japan’s 20 million Twitter users spiked 500% to over 5,000 per second. That night, a 20 year-old Keio University student Hiroyuki Tsuruda (@mocchicc) began to catalog some of these messages on the website www.prayforjapan.co.jp. The site went viral immediately, receiving six million hits in the first week. In response to the project’s popularity, on April 26, Kōdansha published Pray for Japan, a collection of roughly seventy messages from the website, in Japanese and parallel English translation, alongside photographs of solidarity from around the globe. Sent by users in the disaster zone, around Japan, and abroad, some messages are personal anecdotes of kindness or interactions with strangers on the day of the disaster; others users simply affixed notes of hope and encouragement with the #prayforjapan hashtag in the hope that it would reach someone in need of comfort. Although Pray for Japan shares the attribute of being a Twitter-sourced book with the English-language Quakebook project, all of the messages in Pray for Japan were written in the immediate aftermath of the disaster and quoted directly from user’s Twitter feeds. The editors contacted the users afterwards and gained the permission to publish the messages. In this sense the book is a valuable primary source, and to my knowledge the only book of its kind published in English.

Pray is Japan is but one of several Twitter projects related to the disaster, a fact that demonstrates the significant role the social networking service played on 3/11. As phone lines were overwhelmed and traditional media grappled with the enormity of the disaster, people turned to their smartphones and computers to make contact with loved ones and get information about the conditions on the ground in Tōhoku and Tokyo. In the days afterward, Twitter became a place for strangers to share their thoughts and feelings as people struggled to make sense of the events. Because everything posted on Twitter is automatically in the public domain, popular tweets spread far beyond individuals’ social circles through the practice of “retweeting.”

Although it contains only a selective collection of the millions of messages sent about the disaster, Pray for Japan is a valuable compilation of a new genre of primary source material, documenting what took place on Twitter on and after 3/11. The book also exemplifies how social networking can enable strangers such as Tsuruda and the international group of volunteers that worked to translate the site into a dozen languages to collaborate to produce more lasting contributions to public discourse than fleeting 140-character messages. Selling for 1,000 yen, the book became a bestseller in Japan, with sales in excess of 70,000 copies, and has been used as an English learning tool by several schools in Nagoya. Royalties totaling three million yen as of July have been donated to the Hatachi Fund of the Nippon Foundation. A digital version of the book, with the messages in Japanese, English, and other languages, will be released as an iPad/iPhone app by the end of the year.

- Sam Holden

In February, 2012, Pray for Japan became available worldwide as an iPhone/iPad app in six languages, which may be useful to teachers and students wishing to learn about 3.11 via Japanese language classes.

BOOK: Reconstructing Kobe: The Geography of Crisis and Opportunity (2010)

Edgington, David W. 2010. Reconstructing Kobe: The Geography of Crisis and Opportunity. University of British Columbia Press.


… we may not know fully if Kobe has provided Tokyo, or any other Japanese city, with the opportunity to prepare itself for a crisis that will invariably come. That will not be able to be recognized until the next earthquake strikes and that crisis is assessed.

This paragraph ends David W. Edgington’s extensively researched and detailed monograph on ten years of recovery planning and reconstruction in Kobe, Japan, following the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake. Now, three months after March 11, we might begin to answer his question of what lessons Japan has learned from Kobe about disaster recovery. Judging from Edgington’s research, it might take another decade or more before these efforts can be fully assessed.

Edgington, a professor of geography at the University of British Columbia, traces the major contours of political, economic, social and material change in Kobe from the fateful morning of January 17, 1995 through 2005. Edgington provides a straightforward narrative account, thick with empirical and quantitative data, with relatively little discussion of theory. The book is chock-full of figures, tables and photographs, providing plenty of material for analysis and discussion for a diverse spectrum of readers, both graduate and undergraduate. Scholars who have studied the recovery planning process(es) of other disaster-struck cities, such as post-Katrina New Orleans, as well as those who have examined the aftermath of historical disasters in East Asia, will find many intriguing points of comparison and departure. It may also help readers understand and contextualize recovery efforts underway in eastern Japan now.

Inspired by a reading of the Japanese word for crisis, 危機 (kiki), as meaning “dangerous opportunity,” Edgington portrays the landscape of post-disaster Kobe as a patchwork of “geographies of crisis” and “geographies of opportunity.” This ties the notion of a “crisis / opportunity” dualism to a spatial dimension which is always present in his account, even as he foregrounds the explanatory force of demographic, legal and policy factors, funding regimes, and the pressures of limited timeframes. Four categories help frame the author’s discussion of the disaster and the city’s recovery: “the pre-existing situation,” “specific characteristics of the disaster itself,” “efforts by governments and NGO’s to facilitate recovery,” and “local community attitudes and relationship with governments.”

Chapters four, five and six provide the most interesting food for thought for students interested in the study of post-disaster recovery. These chapters describe the different tensions between actors and institutions involved in the years following the Kobe earthquake, especially after the city publicly released its recovery plan within two months of the earthquake in order to secure central government funding, while many victims were still in shelters or scattered across Japan, mourning the loss of over 6,400 people. These plans, as Edgington describes, were met by an angry crowd that besieged city hall for some five hours, haranguing officials for taking advantage of them without their input, as one resident said later, “like a thief at the scene of a fire (火事場泥棒, kajiba dorobo).” The city immediately made an about-face and instituted plans for massive public engagement in recovery planning and redevelopment.

Kobe’s plans for reconstruction had involved the identification of eight high-priority areas that would receive significant support from all levels of government, identified as “black zones” on the map. These areas were not chosen for the severity of damage alone, but for other reasons as well, such as specific features that the city thought could be exploited to enhance economic redevelopment. Edgington’s study points out some of the imbalances between the governmental support distributed to the so-called “black zones,” which constituted only three percent of the city’s area, compared to the majority “white zones” — some of which had experienced greater damage — or intermediate, “gray,” zones.

Students of urban history will find this study informative, given how Kobe’s experience helped lead to a remarkable surge in the popularity of machi-zukuri (community-building) organizations in Kobe and across Japan from the late 1990s to the present-day. Kobe had already had a history of pioneering these neighborhood planning associations, in which local residents work with the city planning department to develop their area jointly. Edgington demonstrates in three case studies that this strategy of overlaying traditional urban planning — toshikeikaku (都市計画) — upon machi-zukuri-based local planning on a city-wide scale was an entirely new experiment and had very uneven results. Like many of the experiences of other disaster-struck cities, the author’s analysis of Kobe shows that in the rush to catch the wind of opportunity presented by the destruction and reconstruction funding, the ship of recovery must still navigate the shoals of new and pre-existing social entanglements, obdurate economic and political realities, the very detritus of destruction, and the stubborn fact that the slate has not, in fact, been wiped clean.

Although Reconstructing Kobe is ambitiously broad in scope, no single tome could reasonably attempt to cover recovery planning and reconstruction in Kobe comprehensively. The best studies generate questions for further investigation, and Edgington does that here. As he notes, his case studies cover “black zones” only, and he points out that “white zones,” which were left to their own devices with little or no government support, actually recovered more quickly than the black zones. His research suggests that rigidly constraining legislation and contentious negotiations between the government and the local people contributed to the slow recovery of black zones. However, one would like to see equivalent research done on case studies within “white” and “gray” areas as well.

Edgington notes the particularly acute vulnerability of certain populations, such as the elderly, blue-collar workers, and minorities, including ethnic Koreans and Chinese and the descendents of the buraku outcaste. The unique experiences of these groups deserve a fuller, more in-depth investigation. (Indeed, one such study of elderly victims in this disaster has been published: Junko Otani’s Older People in Natural Disasters: The Great Hanshin Earthquake of 1995, which will be featured in a future post here at Teach 3/11.)

Finally, the negotiations between local people and the city, mediated through machi-zukuri organizations and professional planning consultants (usually provided by the city) are an interesting site of interaction between experts, officials and local lay people. Students and scholars may find it interesting to open up the details of these negotiations to see exactly how they were conducted, how the salient issues to be negotiated were identified and framed, and how competing visions for what kind of society was to be built were articulated and contested.

To supplement this reading, students might appreciate a series of short video clips, in which Prof. Edgington compares Kobe and Sendai.

—Tyson Vaughan

Further reading:

Otani, Junko. 2010. Older People in Natural Disasters: The Great Hanshin Earthquake of 1995. Kyoto: Kyoto University Press and Portland, Or.: International Specialized Book Services.

WEBSITE: “Tokyo Modern” from MIT’s Visualizing Cultures project

Tokyo Modern I: Koizumi Kishio’s “100 Views” of the Imperial Capital (1928-1940), available at:  http://ocw.mit.edu/ans7870/21f/21f.027/tokyo_modern_01/index.html

While people in Japan are still suffering from the shock of earthquakes and tsunami, soon there will be efforts to rebuild cities, villages, and the infrastructure between them. How are places and communities reborn after indescribable devastation? How do they regain their former vitality? What social and cultural tensions are revealed during the process of recovery?

Tokyo in the aftermath of the Great Kantō Earthquake of 1923 offers one historical precedent. In this educational unit titled “Tokyo Modern,” the reconstruction of Tokyo following the massive earthquake is visualized through numerous woodblock prints by Koizumi Kishio and other contemporary artists. In his essay for the unit, James Ulak, the deputy director of Freer Gallery of Art and the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery at the Smithsonian Institution, writes of “the exuberant rebirth of Tokyo that took place after 1923:”

The earthquake was a catastrophe—but also the occasion for massive reconstruction in modern, up-to-date ways. ‘New Tokyo’ became a catchphrase of the time. Imposing structures of steel and stone were one manifestation of this. Mass transit including a subway system was another. Yet another manifestation of rebirth was the emergence of vibrant inner-city districts devoted to governance, commerce, and entertainment. After the earthquake, Tokyo began to emerge as one of the world’s great cosmopolitan cities.

The unit features digital scans of Koizumi’s woodblock prints along with his own annotations, which depict Tokyo’s urban scenes of construction and vitality. This will be a good source for discussion on how to re-imagine the future of a devastated region and how to deal with newly emerging political, economic, and social concerns in the process. Ulak comments on possible effects of the recovery efforts on Japan’s subsequent path:

Central to recovery was a secure source of natural resources, most readily available in the northeastern Chinese territory of Manchuria. Ensuring such access became a development parallel and not unrelated to reconstruction at home, leading to increased Japanese militarism and eventually war.

After all, the ultra-modern Tokyo that began to rise above the ruins of the earthquake could rise above neither its uneasy present nor its uncertain future.

The long journey from Tokyo’s earthquake-devastated landscape to a city reordered, rebuilt, and renewed, was narrated in official literature as a kind of ‘march of progress,’ a sequence of mercantile successes and modernizing projects. Yet, contrary news—resistance and war in China, political assassinations at home—gave Japanese reason to view the newly formed city and its outlying empire with some skepticism. And beneath the vicissitudes of daily life the earthquake had left a permanent memory scar that quietly mocked optimism. Living in the new city required adjustment to changed configurations, different points of emphasis, and, most importantly, resetting awareness of the places that conveyed a sense of identity and stability.

Visualizing Cultures, of which “Tokyo Modern” is a part, is a web-based educational project on the modern history of East Asia. It is headed by two MIT professors, John W. Dower and Shigeru Miyagawa. The project has been digitizing a vast amount of visual historical materials from Japan, China, and elsewhere, and contextualizing them with thoughtful essays and annotations. Its initial focus was on modern Japan, but it has been expanding its scope to cover China as well, particularly with the participation of Professor Peter Purdue at Yale University.

“Tokyo Modern” lists a number of sources on the Kantō earthquake and reconstruction, including website links to images from the period in question.

— Chihyung Jeon

Further readings:

Seidensticker, Edwin. 1991. Low City, High City: Tokyo from Edo to the Earthquake: how the shogun’s ancient capital became a great modern city, 1867–1923. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

Seidensticker, Edwin. 1991. Tokyo Rising: The City Since the Great Earthquake. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

ARTICLE: Danger in the Lowground: Historical Context for the March 11, 2011 Tōhoku Earthquake and Tsunami (2011)

Smits, Gregory. 2011. “Danger in the Lowground: Historical Context for the March 11, 2011 Tōhoku Earthquake and Tsunami.” The Asia-Pacific Journal 9 (20), May 16. http://www.japanfocus.org/-Gregory-Smits/3531

In the days and weeks following the disaster on March 11, 2011, the Japanese popular press revisited the tsunami history of the Sanriku coast, going back as far as the 869 Jōgan tsunami. As perhaps expected, the news media invoked this history in discussions of risk and blame, particularly in light of the Fukushima disaster.1

Gregory Smits, who has studied the cultural history of earthquakes for several years, tackles the issue of historical memory and risk in this article published in The Asia Pacific Journal. By considering the histories of tsunamis that occurred primarily in the Edo (1600-1868) and modern periods, Smits comes to a rather disheartening conclusion: despite some apparently successful cases of institutional memory, the perception of risk seems to fade quickly, within even a generation. For example, the “tsunami stones,” reported in the New York Times,2 may have provided a warning to some, but apparently had been a less remarkable feature of the landscape to others, before the disaster granted them new relevance.

Smits cites the work of Hirakawa Arata of Tōhoku University, who claims that the Tokugawa highway post-stations were all (re-)located beyond the reach of a devastating 1611 tsunami, and argues that the post-Meiji population had lost its sense of tsunami risk. Having investigated people’s reactions to tsunami risk after an area had been devastated, Smits argues that population turnover may be the greatest impediment to successful prevention efforts based on historical memory. In examples raised by Smits, Tohoku in the modern period and Osaka in the Edo Period, the lack of a stable population is given as the main explanation for the impermanence of useful historical memory and effective countermeasures. Long periodicity and the ease of population movement lead to concern for the possibility of a similar disaster in Tokyo and the Pacific Northwest region of the United States, although Smits expresses the hope that the Tōhoku experience might spur preparations.

Intact historical memory has also failed to provide warning in some cases, according to Smits. One such case was a tsunami that hit the Sanriku coast on August 23, 1856. Smits cites a record that blames a folk belief for the high death toll of that disaster. Apparently derived from tsunamis in 1611 and 1793, this was the belief that tsunamis only occur in winter. Likewise, in the case of a tsunami that hit Osaka on December 24, 1854, Smits thinks that the recent memory of the more geographically distant Iga-Ueno Earthquake of July 9, 1854, overrode the memory of the more temporally distant Hōei Earthquake and tsunami of 1707. As a result, hundreds of Osaka residents were led to their deaths when they fled to boats in the immediate aftermath of the shaking in order to ride out aftershocks. These cases lead to the distressing conclusion that even if historical memory were preserved through time and the turnover of generations, it might not be enough to improve safety and survivability when the next disaster strikes.

— Kristina Buhrman

1. Lyn, Tan Ee. 2011. “Japan’s tsunami history ignored: report; Previous study also downplayed; Size of past waves were not considered when Fukushima nuclear plant was built,” The Gazette (Montreal), April 14.

2. Fackler, Martin. 2011. “Tsunami Warnings for the Ages, Carved in Stone,” The New York Times, April 20.

BOOK: Orphan Tsunami of 1700

Atwater, Brian F. et al. The Orphan Tsunami of 1700: Japanese Clues to a Parent Earthquake in North America. U.S. Geological Survey professional paper, 1707. Reston, Va.: U.S. Geological Survey; Seattle: In Association with University of Washington Press, 2005.

Orphan Tsunami of 1700

This report, available both for purchase as a book and as a downloadable pdf on the US Geological Survey’s website (http://pubs.usgs.gov/pp/pp1707/), combines documentary and geological sources with modeling in an attempt to give a full account of a tsunami thought to have been generated by an approximately 9.0 M earthquake originating in the Cascadia subduction zone on January 26, 1700. While the initial announcement of the connection between that 18th-century Japanese tsunami and the Cascadia fault – known as an “orphan tsunami” by researchers because it was not preceded by a locally felt earthquake – was announced in Nature in the 1990s, it is hard not to see a connection between the publication of this 2005 report and the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami, although that disaster is only mentioned in passing. The report and its underlying research emphasize the disaster potential of the Cascadia fault zone by relating a catastrophic past seismic event. The presentation of the findings and the style and language used only underlines that this report was aimed at alerting the general public to potential risk. The result is a very detailed reconstruction of a historical tsunami that could probably be easily given to an undergraduate or advanced high-school audience.

The report is divided into three sections. The first presents the geological evidence for a massive Cascadia earthquake and local tsunami, accompanied with related folklore accounts presenting a potential Native American memory of the event. The second section presents the Japanese accounts of the tsunami impact (although, as the wave was not preceded by a local earthquake, many of these accounts do not call the event a “tsunami”). The third section presents the authors’ case for the connection between the two events, although this connection has been assumed as a fait accompli throughout the work. Much of the second and third sections compare the Cascadia event to the 1960 Chile earthquake and tsunami, as the authors have taken the latter as a model for the former. Pictures and data from the 1960 tsunami therefore stand in for the 1700 event and add urgency to the authors’ call for better preparation for the future Cascadia megathrust quake which they are sure will come.

Oddly, for a work aimed at a general audience, the information about the Japanese documents is very detailed, including images of many primary sources, some of them glossed word-for-word. While glossing the documents instead of translating them makes them harder to parse for a general reader, this presentation means that this book could almost be used as an introduction to certain types of early modern Japanese sources. Also present in this report, although not as emphasized, is some of the background behind the study of historical earthquakes and tsunami in Japan, which has also benefited from a long-standing collaboration between historians (both academic and amateur) and seismologists in Japan. – Kristina Buhrman

Additional readings:

Satake, Kenji, Kunihiko Shimazaki, Yoshinobu Tsuji, and Kazue Ueda. 1996. Time and size of a giant earthquake in Cascadia inferred from Japanese tsunami records of January 1700. Nature 379, no. 6562 (January 18): 246-249. doi:10.1038/379246a0.

BOOK: Earthquake Nation: The Cultural Politics of Japanese Seismicity, 1868-1930. (2006)

Clancey, Gregory. 2006. Earthquake Nation: The Cultural Politics of Japanese Seismicity, 1868-1930. University of California Press.

Earthquake Nation provides crucial historical context for understanding more recent outbreaks of “Japanese seismicity” in Kobe (1995) and the Tōhoku and Kanto regions of Japan (2011). Recipient of the 2007 Sidney Edelstein Award from the Society for the History of Technology, this book eloquently lays out the complicated interactions among seismology, architecture, engineering, culture, politics, and the living earth itself during a particularly dynamic period in Japanese history.

The Meiji Period (1868-1912) has often been characterized as a time of febrile “modernization” in Japanese history. During this period, what role did seismicity play in shaping Japanese conceptions of nature, technology, and “Western” vs. Japanese or other Asian knowledges? How did seismicity – the science, the technology, and the physical experience of it – influence the projects of state-building, “modernization” and imperial expansion? These are some of the questions that Clancey addresses in this richly detailed and accessible study.

The historical event that propels much of the book’s analysis and narrative trajectory is the estimated 8.0 magnitude Great Nōbi Earthquake, which struck near Nagoya in 1891, killing over 7,000 people, leaving 140,000 homeless, and providing a stern test for the Meiji state. Clancey traces “the cultural politics of Japanese seismicity” from before this event all the way through the 7.9 magnitude Great Kanto Earthquake and subsequent fires of 1923, which devastated Tokyo and Yokohama and killed an estimated 142,000 people.

Clancey’s argument is multifaceted and complex, but part of it goes like this: During the feverish “modernization” (née “Westernization”) of the Meiji era, Western brick- and masonry-based architecture was championed as strong, eternal and masculine – an emblem of modern civilization – whereas wooden Japanese structures were portrayed as weak, temporal and feminine – symbols of obsolete tradition. The Great Nōbi Earthquake literally shook up these notions when it wrecked the rigid masonry buildings that often did not fare as well as the more flexible wooden buildings, at least among larger, more prominent, marquee structures. Although the landscape was littered with the remains of shattered native architecture as well as Western, Japanese journalists and artists reproduced a discourse on the remarkable phenomenon of the apparent brittleness of Western structures versus the perceived, relative resilience of native buildings. This gave rise to new nativist, nationalistic discourses that became taken up by the ongoing state-building (and eventually, imperialist) project in Japan.

For teachers or students who would like to use a shorter, pared-down version of Clancey’s book, he has also published a 50-page paper that tells much of this story of the Great Nōbi Earthquake:

Clancey, Gregory. 2006. “The Meiji Earthquake: Nature, Nation, and the Ambiguities of Catastrophe.” Modern Asian Studies 40:909-951. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3876638.

– Tyson Vaughan

Note: This appeared originally as a sample annotated citation for Teach 3/11. We welcome scholars and graduate students to participate in this project.

Educational Module: Understanding the International Nuclear Event Scale

by Angie Boyce
Ph.D. student, Cornell University, Department of Science & Technology Studies

Note: This week’s posting schedule starts with a sample educational module. We hope this may inspire and encourage fellow educators to design and share educational modules to help teach about 3/11. We’re posting at a minimum every weekday at 2:46 p.m. local time in Japan for the rest of April. Please stay tuned for new content, and thank you for participating.

When the Japanese government reclassified the triple disaster from 5 to 7 on the International Nuclear Event Scale (INES) on April 11, 2011, the disaster went from being classified as an “accident with wider consequences” to a “major accident.” Moreover, Fukushima was now placed in the same category as Chernobyl, a move that sparked multiple questions in media discourse: is Fukushima “really as bad” as Chernobyl? Did the Japanese government hide information from the public because it had initially rated the disaster lower on the scale?

Approaches from the social and historical studies of science and technology tend to ask different kinds of questions about things like the INES. Looking at current public discourse provides a useful starting point, and one such question that can be explored when starting to think about this reclassification critically is: How are different considerations of time and timing playing a role in shaping actors’ opinions on the reclassification?

In this module, have students read the New York Times article entitled, “Japan Raises Severity Level for Fukushima Nuclear Accident,” using the above question first as an initial probe, and second as a prompt to help raise their own questions. Teachers may wish to keep in mind some interesting things that may help guide class discussions: 1) the notion that the level 7 put out too early could cause “panic,” 2) that TEPCO is thinking about the “worst-case scenario,” and 3) that initially, the “margins of error” on computer models of the disaster were too big to justify decision-making. Students should also explore the INES webpage, raising questions about it as well. Thinking questions could include:

  • Is the INES similar to the Richter scale or temperature, as the website states?
  • Why is the INES user’s manual only available in English, Russian, and Spanish?
  • Why doesn’t the INES web page discuss time and timing?
Many of these questions can only be addressed by contextualizing the INES and finding out more about its historical development. One such resource to investigate is a history of the organizational body that created the INES, the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) written by an internal agency historian (see p. 212).

Some separate but related study questions may include: What kind of roles do internal agency historians play? How are public records created and preserved, and who may, should, or can access this information? Do all companies, organizations, or governments have historians, and why or why not?

Sources: 

Bradsher, Keith, Hiroko Tabuchi and Andrew Pollack. “Japan Raises Severity Level for Fukushima Nuclear Accident” (Alternate title: “Japanese Officials on Defensive as Nuclear Alert Level Rises”), New York Times, April 12, 2011, accessed April 14, 2011 and April 17, 2011,  www.nytimes.com/2011/04/13/world/asia/13japan.html

Fischer, David. 1997.  History of the International Atomic Energy Agency: The First Forty Years. International Atomic Energy Agency (Vienna: The Agency), accessed April 14, 2011, http://www-pub.iaea.org/mtcd/publications/pdf/pub1032_web.pdf

The International Atomic Energy Agency.International Atomic Energy Agency website, “International Nuclear Events Scale,” www-ns.iaea.org/tech-areas/emergency/ines.asp, accessed April 14, 2011.


BOOK: Beyond Local Science: The Evolution of Japanese Seismology During the Meiji and Taisho Eras (2007) [English]

Kim, Boumsoung 金凡性. 2007. Meiji · Taishō no Nihon no Jishingaku: “Rōkaru · Saiensu” o Koete. 明治・大正の日本の地震学「ローカル・サイエンス」を超えて [Beyond Local Science: The Evolution of Japanese Seismology During the Meiji and Taisho Eras].  Tōkyō Daigaku Shuppankai. 東京大学出版会 [Tokyo University Press].

During Japan’s Meiji period (1868-1912), when Japanese science was trying to catch up to that of the West, Japanese seismology rose to global preeminence. How did Japanese seismology, particularly seismologist Fusakichi Ōmori, come to occupy this central position in the world? Furthermore, why did they eventually lose that position? These are the questions that Kim discusses with great dynamism.

Chapter outline:

*    Prologue: The histories of seismology and Japanese science
*    Chapter 1: The science of seismographs, the science of networks: seismic research by gaikokujin [foreigners]
*    Chapter 2: The science of prevention and protection: the changing face of Japanese seismology
*    Chapter 3: To observe the world: statistics, seismographs, and Fusakichi Ōmori
*    Chapter 4: The challenge of physics: the fall of Ōmori’s seismology
*    Epilogue: Beyond the historiography of “catching up”

Takashi Nishiyama, with English translation by Tyson Vaughan

BOOK: Beyond Local Science: The Evolution of Japanese Seismology During the Meiji and Taisho Eras (2007) [Japanese]

Kim, Boumsoung 金凡性. 2007. Meiji · Taishō no Nihon no Jishingaku: “Rōkaru · Saiensu” o Koete. 明治・大正の日本の地震学「ローカル・サイエンス」を超えて [Beyond Local Science: The Evolution of Japanese Seismology During the Meiji and Taisho Eras].  Tōkyō Daigaku Shuppankai. 東京大学出版会 [Tokyo University Press].

日本の科学全般が西欧に追いつこうとしていた明治時代、日本の地震学は世界のトップを走っていた。どのようにして日本の地震学が、あるいは地震学者・大森 房吉が世界において中心的な位置に立てたのか、そしてなぜその中心的な位置からはずれたのかをダイナミックに論じる。

序章 地震学と日本の科学史
第1章 地震計の科学、ネットワークの科学―外国人による地震研究
第2章 予防と防御の科学 ―「日本の地震学」への変容
第3章 世界を観測する ― 統計、地震計、そして大森房吉
第4章 物理学の挑戦―大森地震学の忘却
終章 「追いつき」のヒストリオグラフィーを超えて

Takashi Nishiyama

Introduction


Teach 3/11 is a participatory resource to help teachers and scholars locate and share educational resources about the historical contexts of scientific and technical issues related to the triple earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear disasters in Japan.

  • “What should I read?”
  • “What should I teach?”
  • “Who studies these issues?”

These represent a sample of the kinds of questions that have been directed at and among many Japan-watchers and analysts of science and technology since 3/11. As an independent initiative spurred by the hope of helping people find answers to such questions more quickly, Teach 3/11 is a participatory online project built in the spirit of international cooperation and solidarity that disaster recoveries depend upon, regardless where they occur. In partnership with the Forum for the History of Science in Asia, Teach 3/11 has a simple goal: to develop a list of teaching resources with the help of the the collective wisdom of scholars worldwide working at the intersections of history of science and technology and Asia.

Beginning on 14 April through the end of the month, we will make a post every weekday at 2:46 p.m. local time in Japan to remember the events that have since unfolded. We will also field the receipt of citation suggestions during our first phase of development through a self-imposed deadline of April 22nd in order to post the most relevant information about references, readings, and audio-visual materials to aid teachers interested in the most pertinent history of science and technology resources in the wake of 3/11 current events.  In our second phase of development, we will work on preparing contributed material for continued online postings, which will collectively result in an online teaching resource.

Beginning with materials in English, Japanese, Korean, and Chinese, our hope is to make Teach 3/11 as useful as possible for fellow educators everywhere. Here’s a sample of the kind of entries we’re aiming to compile. We’re also interested in compiling a list of study questions for students. Click here to get started.

Our lines of communication are open to the community. Contact teach3eleven [at] gmail [dot] com or @teach_311 to reach us. Bookmark and check teach311.wordpress.com as we make continual updates. As we increase our digital capacity, please stay tuned and help spread the word!

Thank you for participating in Teach 3/11.

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Banner image: A house floats intact in the Pacific Ocean, washed out to sea by the tsunami of March 11, 2011.  Credit: US Navy