I Want Out:
A Play by Disabled People Living in the Community

by Katatsumuri & Tsubasa

Life in the Institution

(As Children)

KIMURA EIKO: When I was eight months old, riding in a baby-walker, I fell from the entrance to my home and became disabled. My parents, seeking a cure, took me to many hospitals. Unable to do anything on their own and having to depend on medical science, they very reluctantly put me in an institution. The first thing I remember is being alone in bed there. I was crying, missing my mother's warmth and my father's hugs. I was only two, just when one's parents' love is needed most. I remember stretching my arms out through the slats around my bed toward my father as he walked away down the long hall. "Don't go, father! Don't leave me here! I want to go home. Don't go, father!"

KATOKEIKO: When I entered the institution, I was asked "Why are you so slow?" "Hurry up!" they said. Because of my disability, it took me a long time to do everything. I was always an hour late, whether in changing my clothes or taking meals, so everyone called me slow. My only pleasure was marking off the days with flowers on a big calendar, counting the days until Saturday, when I could go home.

Everyday Life in the Institution

FIRST STAFF MEMBER: Another day at work. This person always gives us a hard time. Look at her hair; it's so long! We are the ones who have to wash and comb it.

SECOND STAFF MEMBER: The same thing with her clothes. The others all obediently wear pyjamas. Why does she insist on dressing like that?

FIRST STAFF MEMBER: She even wants to use the toilet outside the scheduled times. Who does she think she is?

MITSUI KINUKO: (Kicking and resisting) Aah, aah!

FIRST STAFF MEMBER: What do you mean doing that with your eyes? If there's something you want to say, say it! But if she could talk, wouldn't that be a bother.

SECOND STAFF MEMBER: That's for sure. It would be a real drag if she could talk. We're going now.

MITSUI KINUKO (SPOKEN BY MITSUI MIKI): Not again! Just because I can't talk, they feel free to say anything they want. I'm a human being, too. Why do I have to be treated this way? I'll get you for this one of these days!

Surgery

FURUYA ETSUKO: Today was another day of waiting for time to pass. I've got to wait another week until the next visiting day, Sunday. What a long time to wait!

DOCTOR: It's been almost two weeks since I've picked up a scalpel. I haven't operated since June 28. I've got to operate if I expect my research to go anyplace. Isn't there someone around here I could work on? Oh, hello, Miss Furuya! How are you today? I've heard that you've had a lot of stiffness lately. Wouldn't you like to try some more surgery?

FURUYA ETSUKO: Forget it. You said the same thing last time, but it didn't improve my condition at all.

DOCTOR: This time it will be all right. There was a bit of a slip-up last time.

FURUYA ETSUKO: No way.

DOCTOR: Leave it to me. If you let me operate, you'll be able to walk and move your arms.

FURUYA ETSUKO: I don't know what will happen, so forget it.

DOCTOR: It's all right. I'll tell your family. (To nurse) Take her for tests.

NURSE: Let's go. Time to get you worked up.

FURUYA ETSUKO: No, no!

STAFF MEMBER: You're having your period again. How disgusting! Think about what it's like for the people who have to clean up after you every time.

KATO KEIKO: Why are you so prejudiced? I'm a woman, too.

Workshop

NAKATA KOTARO: Good morning.

STAFF MEMBER: Oh, are you here again? You're so slow that you're of no use here. Why did you come?

NAKATA KOTARO: I came to work.

STAFF MEMBER: This world doesn't need people like you.

NAKATA KOTARO: I don't want to see you.

Leaving the Institution

STAFF MEMBER: Takeo and Yuko, we have looked at all the possibilities, but there's no way that we could take care of a baby here in the institution. Please think about the whole thing one more time.

AOKI TAKAO: What do you mean? Why?

AOKI YUKO: I was told that I came into this world as a tiny little baby, born prematurely with severe jaundice. My parents were told I had cerebral palsy. They brought me up believing I could not do anything for myself and would have to depend on the help of others so I should keep my mouth shut and not make trouble so people would be kind to me. I didn't have any brothers or sisters, and there were no other kids my age around. So, with no one around for comparison, keeping my mouth shut and not asking for anything seemed like the normal thing to do. It seemed only natural that I would move into an institution when I grew up, and I was a child who never said I wanted to do this or that. After becoming an adult, I moved from institution to institution. It was only after I entered the last institution that I found spiritual freedom and realized that I didn't have to keep my mouth shut or suppress all my desires just because I have a disability. That institution was run on the ideal of people with disabilities and those without living together. While there, I fell in love with a man who was also disabled, got married, and became pregnant. The staff members also formed couples among themselves, had babies and brought them up, so I thought all of us together could bring up our baby, too. However, on the grounds that the authorities could not be held responsible for something like this, our child never got the chance to come into this world.

AOKI TAKAO: Yuko, let's leave this place.

AOKI YUKO: Yes, let's leave.

EVERYONE: Let's leave.

KIMURA EIKO: Because we have disabilities, we were separated from our families and put into institutions. In these institutions, cut off from society, we were not treated as men or women, as human beings. We suffered discrimination. Unable to put up with this, we moved out into the community. But for people like us who had known nothing but the institution for decades, since childhood for many of us, there was a greater gap than we had realized between life in the institution and outside, and we have encountered many problems since leaving.

On the Street

KAYAMA YUREI: Excuse me, could you help me with these stairs?

PASSERBY: Don't touch me. What are you talking about?

KAYAMA YUREI: Excuse me, could you help me with these stairs?

PASSERBY: Sorry.

KAYAMA YUREI: Excuse me, could you help me with these stairs?

PASSERBY: I guess you can't climb them by yourself. Sorry, I don't have the time.

KAYAMA YUREI: This always happens. Every time we try to go someplace there are barriers that keep us from going where we like. Why does it have to be like this? Excuse me, could you help me with these stairs?

PASSERBY: Just a minute. Could someone give us a hand?

Looking for Helpers

HASHIMOTO ETSUKO: Excuse me, I am looking for a helper. My name is Hashimoto, and I live on my own in an apartment in Kokabunji. I can't find any volunteers and I need help; won't you give it a try?

PASSERBY: What are you talking about? I'm in a hurry!

HASHIMOTO ETSUKO: Please read this handbill. Won't you try working as a helper?

PASSERBY: What does a "helper" do?

HASHIMOTO ETSUKO: I want help with the things I can't do on my own, like using the toilet and changing clothes.

PASSERBY: Why do you live on your own if you can't do anything? That's not very sensible, is it?

HASHIMOTO ETSUKO: (Talks about the difficulty of finding a helper.)

Looking for an Apartment

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: Hello..

FIRST REAL ESTATE AGENT: Yes.

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: I'm looking for an apartment.

FIRST REAL ESTATE AGENT: An apartment? For you on your own?

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: That's right.

FIRST REAL ESTATE AGENT: What about your family?

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: I don't have any.

FIRST REAL ESTATE AGENT: Can you pay the rent?

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: I get public assistance.

FIRST REAL ESTATE AGENT: Do you have a guarantor?

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: Yes, I have a friend,

FIRST REAL ESTATE AGENT: A friend? Gee, I don't know. I haven't found apartments for many handicapped people before.

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: But.

FIRST REAL ESTATE AGENT: Let me take a look. There aren't many listings right now; I don't think there's anything suitable. It has to be on the first floor, right? There' s almost nothing on the first floor. Couldn't you check somewhere else?

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: Please let me know if you find anything.

FIRST REAL ESTATE AGENT: Good luck. Well, goodbye now.

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: Thank you very much.

SECOND REAL ESTATE AGENT: It's so slow these days. What will I do without any customers?

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: Excuse me, do you have any apartments?

SECOND REAL ESTATE AGENT: Apartments? Are you a customer?

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: That's right.

SECOND REAL ESTATE AGENT: You're handicapped, right? We can't rent to people with handicaps.

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: But why?

SECOND REAL ESTATE AGENT: The property owners are all afraid handicapped people might start a fire or something.

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: It's all right. I wouldn't do anything like that.

SECOND REAL ESTATE AGENT: I'd like to believe you, but ... Are you going to live on your own?

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: That's right.

SECOND REAL ESTATE AGENT: That's ridiculous.

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: But what else can I do?

SECOND REAL ESTATE AGENT: Can't you live with your parents or a brother or sister?

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: No.

SECOND REAL ESTATE AGENT: But we can't rent to the handicapped.

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: Why not?

SECOND REAL ESTATE AGENT: What do you mean "why not?" What a ridiculous question.

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: That's crazy.

SECOND REAL ESTATE AGENT: You're stubborn, aren't you. We don't rent to cripples. Get out!

MATSUMOTO HIROSHI: It's always like this, you see. We can't even rent apartments. It took me eight months of searching every day through the rain and the snow to rent a two-bedroom apartment. Why do they give us such a hard time?

Everyday Life

YAMADA AYUMI: Mother, I'm home.

YAMADA KAYO: Hello.

YAMADA AYUMI: One of my friends at school said her mother had a baby. I wish I had a brother or sister.

YAMADA KAYO: I'm sorry, Ayumi. I can't have any more babies.

YAMADA AYUMI: Why not?

YAMADA KAYO: (She explains.)

A CHILD: Mother, mother! There's something strange about that person.

THE CHILD'S MOTHER: You shouldn't look. That person's pitiful.

OGAWA YOKO: Little girl, why do you look at me that way? What's strange about me? It's always been like this ever since I was a child. Whenever my mother and the two of us went shopping, the children would look at me as if I had done something wrong, and the adults would all keep their distance. What's strange about me? Why does everyone stay so far away? Why do people look at me that way, when I'm doing my best, living on my own? Tell me.

MIYAZAKI JOJI: I'm thirsty. Isn't there any place around here where we can stop for a drink?

HELPER: Shall we buy some juice or something? Oh, there's a shop over there.

SHOP CLERK: Just a minute. The entrance is kind of narrow, so you can't come in. Won't you please leave?

MIYAZAKI JOJI: Why can't we go in? What a strange shop.

Living in the Community

NOODLE SHOP CHEF: (On the telephone) Hello.

AOKI TAKAO: Hello.

NOODLE SHOP CHEF: (On the telephone) Hello, this is Kunitachi Noodles. Hello.

AOKI TAKAO: Hello.

NOODLE SHOP CHEF: Hello.

AOKI TAKAO: Noodles, please.

NOODLE SHOP CHEF: Hello. Who's this? Hello. Is this a prank call? We're too busy for this kind of thing.

AOKI TAKAO: Hello, hello. Oh, he hung up. Even after moving out of the institution, finding apartments and starting life on our own, people like myself with speech disabilities still have problems just using the telephone. Even when we call out for food, it's hard to get across what we want. The more we call, the less they understand. But after a year or two, some people start to understand what we are saying, and come up and say hello on the street. Ten years ago, when I started living on my own, almost no one in the neighborhood or any of the shopkeepers could understand me. It's much more pleasant living here now that people understand. I'm glad.

NOODLE SHOP CHEF: Hello, this is Kunitachi Noodles.

AOKI TAKAO: Hello. This is Aoki. Two orders of noodles, please.

NOODLE SHOP CHEF: Hello, Mr. Aoki. Two orders of noodles? Would you like bean paste or soy sauce flavor?

AOKI TAKAO: One of each.

NOODLE SHOP CHEF: One bean paste, one soy sauce. I've got it.

Independent Living

KIMURA EIKO: Ever since I was a child, I dreamed of living in the community. Having spent my first 18 years in live-in schools for handicapped children, I had no idea how harsh a society can be. When I was in high school, I was sent to a lot of institutions to help decide which one I should enter after I finished high school. I was very depressed. At one institution, all that I would be able to call my own was a bed in a gloomy concrete room housing six people. There were set times for using the toilet, and for taking meals. The residents spent six hours a day packaging disposable chopsticks, one pair at a time. No passes out of the institution were allowed, and the residents were not allowed to eat what they liked. There was no freedom. I couldn't bear the thought of spending the rest of my life in such a place. Three months before graduating, I saw in the newspaper that the Snail House, a place to practice independent living, had opened. When I saw that article, I thought I might be able to live on my own, too. In that hope, I visited Kunitachi, following the directions in the article. This is now my ninth year of living on my own. I have gotten married and am busy raising a child. I am really glad to be living on my own. Keiko, I'm glad you are, too.

KATO KEIKO: So am I. When I was in the institution, I didn't know what color the sky was, what kind of clothes I wanted to wear or what I wanted to eat. Now, I buy the clothes I like, eat what I want to eat, see the people I want to see. I decide everything for myself. I'm glad to be living on my own. What about you, Etsuko?

HASHIMOTO ETSUKO: (Describes her thoughts.)What about you, Etchan?

FURUYA ETSUKO: It was really hard for me, too, at the beginning. It's thanks to the help of everyone around me that I have made it this far. I want to do my best from here on out so that more people can leave the institution and live on their own.