Interview with Ryka Aoki

Ryka Aoki is a Japanese American author, poet, performer, and professor whose work dances between genres with grace, grit, and a deep humanity. Aoki is the author of Seasonal Velocities (2012), He Mele a Hilo (2014), and the poetry collection Why Dust Shall Never Settle Upon This Soul (2015). Her writing is known for blending tenderness with humor, cultural depth with unapologetic queerness, and for centering the often-overlooked intersections of identity. Aoki teaches English at Santa Monica College, and when she’s not writing, she’s performing spoken word, dabbling in music (yes, even learning the violin for her characters!), and advocating for LGBTQ+ representation in the arts. Her next novel, still untitled, is set in the vibrant sprawl of Los Angeles’ San Gabriel Valley, and promises a blend of trauma, magic, space-faring donut shop owners, and a heartfelt search for redemption. Ryka believes transgender literature isn't just about who writes it, but about how the work speaks to, uplifts, and transforms the community that reads it. Her stories aren’t just for transgender readers, they’re for anyone with a heart, a struggle, and a sense of wonder. 

 

Monika: Hello, Ryka! I’m absolutely thrilled to have you with us today, what a joy!

Ryka: Hello, Monika! The pleasure is all mine.
Monika: It's been a couple of years since your last book came out, can we look forward to a new publication anytime soon?
Ryka: I’ve had some stories and poems published, most recently in Meanwhile, Elsewhere from Topside Press. But my main work is a new novel, currently untitled, which is set in the San Gabriel Valley, in the Greater Los Angeles area. It centers around a traumatized transgender runaway, and a violin teacher bargaining with the Devil to win back her soul. On their journey, they also meet a family of Vietnamese space aliens escaping interstellar war and trying to run a donut shop. I am trying to convey a world of flux, adaptation, sweetness, and loss.

This book covers a lot of cultural ground. I’ve been addressing intersections of sexuality, gender, race, age, accessibility… not because I was purposely putting them in, but because the characters were experiencing them. Kind of like He Mele a Hilo, but with maybe a bit more traffic. Plus I actually had to learn to play a little violin to understand the characters, all trying to make sure when I finally give it away to the publisher and to other readers, I can tell myself honestly that I did my best.

That said, I am hoping to finally have the book to editors in a couple of months. It’s been a journey.

Order from Biyuti Publishing here!

Monika: I know you aim to write not just for transgender readers, but for a broader audience. Still, do you think there's such a thing as transgender literature? And what does it mean, in your view, to be a transgender author?

Ryka: Gosh, that’s a huge question. But to me, it’s less about what I can write as a writer and more about how my words affect the transgender community. People often get the "transgender literature" question backwards, IMHO. It’s not about what the writer writes, transgender literature should be identified by how it enriches and alters the communities it reaches. A cisgender person can write about trans people, sure. But how does the community see it? Does a young trans writer look at this author and say, “Wow, if he or she can do it, so can l?” I am not sure.

Now imagine a trans person writing a book, it doesn't even have to be trans-centric. Say it’s about tropical fish or Beowulf. If that author decides to be out about their trans status, what does that book do for the community, what possibilities does it give to burgeoning trans writers and readers? How does it engender community pride and the feeling of cultural ownership? That I believe is the best way to think of transgender literature, it’s about how the work is received by transgender readers.

Monika: Our perception of life often shifts with age and time. When you revisit Seasonal Velocities, do you ever come across experiences you would now describe differently?

Ryka: Not at all. :) At a knee-jerk level, if I were to revisit the book, I would definitely want to change things, but that is what the next blank sheet of paper is for. I think part of the journey of self-love is loving and trusting who you were yesterday. Especially for me as a trans person, and an abuse survivor, there’s a lot of my past self that I could choose to hate. But enough people in my past have hated and rejected me without my help, there’s no reason to join those voices. Instead, I choose to love her. I think I am wiser now, but I love, and celebrate her, for who she was.

During a class.

Monika: Your novels often feel like intimate reflections of your world. In He Mele a Hilo, you bring to life the spirit and traditions of the Hawaiian Islands. Many readers might not be aware of the history of the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi, how it lost its independence in 1898, and the persecution of Native Hawaiians and their language. How did you approach writing about this complex and often painful cultural past?

Ryka: This is the issue with writing about past cultures. You never get it right. You make mistakes. I think of Alex Haley writing Roots, or even the pains Disney took with “Moana.” You are dealing with a past no one has lived in. Even the historical accounts are imperfect, both from incomplete transmission and projections of the storytellers’ own agendas/desires.

As trans people, many of us know all about cutting and pasting our histories to create a personal story that we can actually live in. We also know what it is to have violence-induced blank spaces in our timeline, I have years I just cannot recall due to psychological trauma.

As a writer, I try not to be an accurate historian, because, well, all of the above. But I do try to be a human being, doing as best I can. Again, because, well, all of the above.

Monika: On the other hand, Why Dust Shall Never Settle Upon This Soul reads like a lament for trans losses—but also, somehow, a celebration of life. Was that contrast something you consciously aimed for?

Ryka: With Why Dust Shall Never Settle Upon This Soul, I was processing the death of two friends. Trans deaths never get easier. In fact, as I get older it gets harder and harder. It’s like, we’ve fought so hard, worked so hard, with so many people far stronger and more courageous and resourceful than I could ever be, and still? Still, the world is this way?

But we go on, right? Because what’s damning about being trans is you survive and you get stronger and suddenly it takes more to kill you. So you carry the sadness and loss forward. But you are alive. And as stupidly inappropriate as it can be, sometimes you find yourself smiling. Sometimes, you even fall in love.

Order He Mele a Hilo from
Topside Press here.

Monika: Do you find it challenging to be a poet or writer in today’s materialistic world?

Ryka: These are the only times I know, so I think that is a difficult question. I’ve also been very fortunate as a poet and writer. Despite what I’ve been through, look, you’re interviewing me. I have books published. I have made so many dear friends through writing. I am still alive. I’ve seen many cities and even a couple of different countries. All because of writing. So, difficult or not, can I just say right now how grateful I am and how lucky I feel? And thank you, so much.

Monika: When did you come to realize you were a woman? Was the journey of transitioning a difficult one?

Ryka: Well, sticky question. I’ve always been me. But it wasn’t until my thirties that I realized I was trans (we didn't have much info back then, especially before the Internet). As for difficulty, yes, but it was still less difficult than how life had been until then.

Monika: When you began your transition, were there any transgender role models who inspired or guided you along the way?

Ryka: At first, it was mostly a shot in the dark and conversations in newsgroups like the Genderfreezone, alt.gender, and things like that. I never aimed to be drop-dead gorgeous or a model, even though I saw images of beautiful trans women. I’m just a writer girl. Later on, though, both Kate Bornstein and especially Leslie Feinberg encouraged me, and I will always be grateful to them.

Monika: We often pay the highest price for the fulfillment of our dreams and the courage to be ourselves. Many trans women lose their families, friends, jobs, or social standing along the way. Did you face such losses too? What was the most difficult part of your coming out?

Ryka: Yes, I did, and in many ways, I still do. Family means a great deal to me. The hardest part was simply having to start over. And now, the hardest thing is realizing that I may never find the kind of peace and acceptance I dreamed of years ago. Even love. Transphobia has pushed me to develop deeper connections with writers, artists, and musicians. I’ve found soulmates in music and on paper, safely, comfortably far away, unreachable, or sometimes already gone.

Through the years, it’s been hard not to become fatalistic about someone truly loving me in real time. And I do wonder how that’s shaped the way I see the world, which probably means it’s time for me to find a way to be optimistic again. I guess that’s the next chapter.

On stage.

Monika: The transgender community is often said to be thriving. As Laverne Cox declared, “Trans is beautiful.” Teenage girls become models and dancers, talented women become writers, singers, and actresses. Those drawn to politics, science, or business are becoming successful politicians, academics, and entrepreneurs. What’s your take on the current status of transgender women in today’s society? Are we truly witnessing real change, or are we still just scratching the surface?

Ryka: I really hope we’re thriving. I think hope matters. We do need to be ready for backlash, though, and the media so often has a ham-fisted way of portraying us. Sometimes it feels like certain media figures are deliberately sowing misunderstanding, just for the clicks or the shock value. But still, I keep my fingers crossed and hope. :)

Monika: And yet, despite the progress, the so-called “restroom war” is still raging—and transgender women are being murdered in the streets. How do you reconcile this brutal reality with the more hopeful signs of change?

Ryka: Yes. I teach self-defense to at-risk queer youth at the LA LGBT Center. Some make it. Many don’t. I see this reality every day. That’s why we need to be careful about which causes we support, and whose banner we march behind. We must choose our allies wisely. If we move forward without bringing our most vulnerable with us, we become no better than those who would chop the T off LGBTQ for convenience. It’s hard, but then again, when was being trans ever easy?

Monika: The transgender cause is often promoted alongside the broader LGBTQ+ community. As the penultimate letter in the acronym, do you think the transgender community is able to effectively advocate for its own cause within the LGBTQ+ group?

Ryka: There are always ways to move, both within and outside of Queer, Inc. But it takes a lot of work, dedication, politicking, planning. And that work continues to be done. As a writer, I do hope my work contributes to it as well.

Order Seasonal Velocities from
Trans-Genre Press here.

Monika: Do you participate in any lobbying campaigns, or do you think transgender women can make a significant impact in politics?

Ryka: I’m grateful for the progress made by politically active individuals, and I’ve benefitted from many of those gains. But I work with my hands, focusing on what’s directly in front of me. I try to help in my own way. I’m not a politician, I’m a writer and a teacher. I speak to queer students about staying alive and cherishing themselves. In my spare time, I teach queer homeless youth self-defense techniques to protect themselves from knife attacks twice a week. I hope this helps, too.

END OF PART 1

PART 2

 

All photos: courtesy of Ryka Aoki.

© 2017 - Monika Kowalska

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