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Copyright © 2000 - 2008
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Talking Story 
by Polo


 

Loen and Sho Dozono

From The Asian Reporter, V18, #14 (April 1, 2008), page 7.

Close to home

Interviews with those closest to Portland’s leading mayoral candidates

Please note: The Asian Reporter does not endorse candidates for political office. Our responsibility is engaging our readers in democracy. Portland mayoral candidate Sam Adams’ family will discuss their relationship with Mr. Adams and their ideas about Portland in this column in an upcoming issue.

Growing up in Salem, Oregon was good and bad. Growing up as one of ten cousins, nine brown boys, one girl, all rice-pickers, was hard. Real hard. So, of course, our elders advised us on many-many things. We had a thousand do dis directives — we had a thousand don’t do dats.

But of course, we didn’t listen to them. Wha’ do dey know, us smart-aleck American teenagers said. Quietly of course.

One parental imperative we heard again and again was: Hati-hati, beware of the company you keep. People will judge you by your friends.

And, of course, again our elders were right. It’s fair to judge you by who you hang with. As a matter of fact, as a matter of empirically verifiable social science: in many ways we become the company we keep.

With this old maxim in mind, we figured it’s fair to look at those closest to Portland’s two top mayoral candidates. The company they keep. So, I asked the woman nearest Portland-based businessman and civic leader Sho Dozono — and I’ll soon ask someone nearest City Commissioner Sam Adams — two kinds of questions: First, what do you want us to know about your big guy’s family life; and second, tell us what you want for Portland.

Partnership of personalities

"Would you tell us," I asked Loen Dozono, "about you and Mr. Dozono." She blinked only once before answering. She had a lot on her mind.

The story is: Mrs. and Mr. Dozono met at their respective Portland families’ Methodist church when they were teens. She thought he was handsome. A socially self-assured athlete. And super smart. They dated while he studied at Cleveland High School and she went to Marshall High. They continued seeing each other while Loen studied at UO in Eugene and Sho attended UW, five hours up I-5.

After six and a half years they married and have since raised four daughters and a son, all are now adults. I’m not so good at arithmetic, but it seems they’ve been together a pretty long time.

Two interesting points can be gleaned here.

First, both Dozonos are public high school and public university graduates. This is unusual because many, if not most, settled Asian families willingly dive into debt to sit their bright babies in expensive private schools. But this is cool, because public education gets kids rubbing shoulder-to-shoulder, mind-against-mind, with children of all American social and economic classes, all racial and ethnic communities. There’s a universe of diverse attitudes and a world of life-skills kids can pick up during these formative years. Private schools tend to draw from a narrower market, from wealthier and whiter families.

The second point of interest: Loen Azumano and Sho Dozono dated a long time, over long distances. Very persistent and loyal. Very Asian. They agreed to marry when he announced the U.S. Army had just drafted him. There was a furious war in Southeast Asia. "Will you wait for me ‘til I get back?" Mrs. Dozono quotes her guy.

"No," she recalls answering. "No, I don’t think so. I’m not going to sit around waiting."

Two more interesting things are clearly at play here: (a) He’s not ALL THAT, after all. And (b) She’s no pretty pushover. She shoves back. Hard.

"So he decided he better marry me now."

Their marriage, according to Mrs. Dozono, has been through many ups and downs. "It takes a lot of work. But, you know," she says, "there’s an expectation that you’re going to have to work to make it work." Loen Dozono characterizes their marriage as a partnership of two people with two skill sets on a single mission.

"I could see from the beginning that he can handle things that I can’t, and I can do things he cannot. For example," she smiles, "his grammar was so-o bad when he was at UW that he’d send his papers to me at UO (Mr. Dozono is Japan-born, Mrs. Dozono was born here), to correct before handing them in."

"Also, he’s very social, and I’d really rather not." Their difference in personalities, says Mrs. Dozono, allows her room to observe and share later what she saw and heard. He is often task oriented, always creative; she minds social and emotional cues. "Sometimes he’s so in it, he’s so focused on problem solving, he may miss a part of the picture."

"I think it’s the partnership of our personalities that’s made it work so well."

Portland is people

Readers want to know, what do those closest to a mayoral candidate want for Portland? So I asked Loen Dozono what her role would be if her husband were Mayor?

Mrs. Dozono answered in three ways — from her experience growing up in Portland, from parenting in Portland, and what she sees as her role if Sho Dozono gets the big job.

From the time of her childhood in southeast Portland to the present, Mrs. Dozono has been troubled by barriers separating Portland into distinct parts. "Whether it’s racial or economic, eastside or westside divisions, we need to develop a caring that defines differently our sense of community. We need to create more connections."

Q: How do you do that?

A: "When asked, ‘what’s your vision for Portland?’ — many people tend to see things: great buildings, big bridges, but not neighborhoods. That’s where families live. A city needs to invest in our neighborhoods as much as in grand projects. Portland is people."

Q: And what would your role be, in that vision?

A: "As mayor, Sho would be spread in all directions. I can concentrate on Portland’s ethnic minorities."

According to Mrs. Dozono, her experience as an American racial minority is very different from that of her foreign-born husband. And this is another difference central to their partnership.

"He’s fearless. Not at all cautious, not like we had to be, growing up after what happened to our community," she says, referring to Portland’s Nikkei families suddenly losing much of their property and almost all of their freedom as result of federal, state, and local governments racializing America’s war with Japan.

"And, I knew," she paused a long moment, "I knew in a way different from Sho, what our kids were going through in high school. It’s difficult raising kids when they’re in the minority. It’s so difficult."

It is hard. And that’s where this column started, with those difficulties and, as it turns out, with those advantages our essential differences give us. Make of us.

I should’ve asked Sho and Loen Dozono’s daughters and son about the thousand do dis and those thousand don’t do dats they got from their folks. Compare notes.

Please also note: Polo’s essays are personal, an aspect of his role as a presenter of immigrant family and ethnic minority community narratives. As such, this column may not represent the values or views of any organization or association to which he belongs.