Shinichi Ishizuka and Me

When I entered middle school, I became a recluse and graduated through a special exception without ever attending school. I didn’t go on to high school, and I spent the next seven years in a state of being nothing. During that time, I had a mental breakdown at home and was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I ended up in the closed ward. Due to the side effects of the medication, I couldn’t breathe and had a near-death experience. In the space between consciousness and unconsciousness, I found myself naturally chanting the Nichiren Buddhist chant. As a result, a nurse miraculously found me in a life-threatening state, and I survived. From then on, I continued chanting the daimoku (Buddhist chant) in my heart every day while lying in bed, and after three months, I was able to leave the hospital.

After being discharged, even though I remained withdrawn at home, I continued chanting daily and found inspiration and courage from reading many books by Daisaku Ikeda. During that time, I developed a desire to attend university in the United States and enrolled at the Geos English conversation school in Kitasenju. It was the first time after becoming a recluse that I interacted one-on-one with a teacher, but our communication didn’t go well, so I started looking for a new teacher.

That’s when a 28-year-old male teacher, who had just joined Geos after his previous company went bankrupt, volunteered to take me under his wing, saying, “I’ll take care of this student, leave it to me.” I was anxious at first, but from the very first lesson, he brought a brightness into my withdrawn life, sometimes joking around as we went through the lessons. Studying English with him was fun, and even on days when there were no lessons, I would visit him at work, and we’d sometimes go out together.

The reason I became a school refuser was due to violence from teachers and bullying from other students during middle school. Since then, I had spent many years avoiding people, living in solitude. I couldn't trust anyone. However, he had a special power that helped me shake off this distrust of others. He was unconventional, sometimes skipping lessons just to play guitar with me. Thanks to him, I, who had been playing guitar alone for so long and had only improved technically, was able to jam with someone else for the first time.

Later, I studied Nichiren Buddhism at home and put it into practice, receiving real benefits from it. When I told him about this, we switched roles—he became the student, and I used the whiteboard to talk about the history of the Soka Gakkai, with him listening intently. When I found out that he liked jazz, especially artists like Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter, both of whom are Soka Gakkai members, I later brought a VHS tape featuring them, and we watched it together on the TV at the Geos reception area.

During lessons, he shared his life philosophy, stories about his university days in the U.S., his experience studying meteorology, his adventures on the run in America, and even tales of rock climbing. He poured all of his thoughts and feelings into my heart. At the end of every lesson, he would always say with a smile, "Don’t tell your mom, okay?" even though my mother was happy to see her son going out to meet him so cheerfully. My whole family, including my grandmother, was grateful to him.

One day during a lesson, he showed me a manga he had drawn titled "This First Step." It was amateurish, with visible traces of erasing left unfinished, but I couldn’t help but praise the piece he had clearly put so much effort into during his breaks at work. Encouraged by my praise, he confidently placed the manga into an envelope and submitted it to a competition.

Not long after that, during another lesson, he told me that he had won the grand prize at the Tezuka Osamu Newcomer Award. Shortly thereafter, we read the Big Comic Original magazine together, marveling at the fact that his work had really been published. Then, in the middle of that surreal moment, he suggested, "Let’s brainstorm ideas for my next work!"—and we used the Geos lesson time for an emergency brainstorming session. I suggested using the "punching bag guy" who used to stand in Kabukicho, Shinjuku, but he wasn’t too keen on the idea.

With the whiteboard full of ideas, we called it a day. In the next lesson, he surprised me by saying, "I want to create a manga with you as the main character." Though I was surprised, I understood that he wanted to convey a message to people through my life experiences and struggles—a message of survival. Ultimately, his next work was serialized in Big Comic Original as Gaku, and I still cherish the first issue of that series.

The manga captures the philosophy we always discussed during our time at Geos. Each time I read it, I remember our conversations. That manga later became a movie, and his next work, BLUE GIANT, was centered on the jazz themes we had talked about. Even now, as his characters appear on billboards and in magazines, I sometimes think back fondly on those days, realizing he’s still very much the same.

As he became busier as a manga artist, Shinichi Ishizuka invited me to his apartment on the outskirts of town, about an hour from Kitasenju, on the final day of our lessons at Geos. He also took me to see a concert by his favorite musician, Wataru Takada. We went to Shibuya Club Quattro by train with his wife and mother. Strangely, the front row had two open seats, and I sat next to Ishizuka-sensei. When Takada appeared on stage, he spoke more than he sang, and Ishizuka laughed so hard at everything Takada said that it made me laugh too.

Returning to the last day at Geos, Ishizuka-sensei invited me to his home, where we had a meal with his wife and visited a nearby iris garden. I still treasure a photo of us taken in front of the irises that day. What I didn’t realize at the time was that Ishizuka-sensei was carefully guiding me towards independence. We both knew that merely studying at Geos wouldn’t be enough for me to fulfill my dream of studying at a U.S. university. Secretly, he hoped I would follow the same path he had taken, but he never pressured me.

It turns out that Ishizuka-sensei also struggled with truancy during high school. He managed to graduate by joining the kendo club. Later, he also dreamed of studying in the U.S. and eventually enrolled at the Niigata campus of Southern Illinois University, which had just opened. It seems that I reminded him of his younger self, struggling yet determined to make it to an American university. That’s why he treated me like family, teaching me something far more important than just studies.

And so, I decided to follow his path and join the dormitory of Southern Illinois University’s Niigata campus. I learned from his actions that education isn’t about words—it’s about showing people the way through your own example. Just look at me now. Ishizuka didn’t teach me much English, yet here I am.

After a wonderful day at his home, it was time to say goodbye. He drove me to the station and handed me a letter, saying, "Read this on the train." As I rode the long Joban Line back, the setting sun still casting some light, I read his letter. At the end, there was a 10,000 yen note enclosed.

Since then, Ishizuka-sensei has become a renowned manga artist. I entered Southern Illinois University’s Niigata campus, not even knowing how to use the be verb, and sure enough, I became truant again. However, realizing that if I didn’t change, I’d face the same fate, I bought a middle school English textbook and started studying from scratch on my own. Eventually, I scored high enough on the TOEFL to be admitted to an American university earlier than anyone else, despite starting so late. I graduated and became a teacher, returning to the place I hated most—school—with a determination to make it a joyful place for the students.

Even though Ishizuka-sensei became a famous artist and we parted ways, he sent me a heartfelt, long letter upon my graduation, expressing his thoughts on several pages. I still use the flower mark he drew on that letter when signing my photographs today. Whenever I send him updates, like when I became a teacher, he always sends back an encouraging message, accompanied by Sanpo from Gaku.

Photography Exhibition Information:

Dates: September 26, 2024 – October 29, 2024
Venue: Liike (1-35-5, Ebisu Nishi, Shibuya-ku, 2F)
Hours: 10:00 AM – 7:00 PM
Artist's Attendance: October 1, 14, 15, 22, 29

Takaaki Sano 佐野貴明 | Japanese art photographer based in Tokyo

#岳 #BLUEGIANT #Manga #BigComicOriginal #TakaakiSano #PhotographyExhibition #Art #Daikanyama #Salon