Letter from Boston

New Year's Resolution

By MASAKO YAMADA

I like the idea of the New Year's resolution. Not only does it force one to take inventory of the year gone by and to confess one's mistakes, it also forces one to propose a practical solution so that the mistakes can be turned into springboards that lead to a better state.

New Year's resolutions are usually very practical. They don't involve lifetime dreams that one hopes to fulfill little by little, but rather focus on what one wishes to accomplish in the coming year.

One of the most common New Year's resolutions for women is to lose weight. This seems like a frivolous resolution, but I think the spirit of self-control and self-improvement is admirable. It's an honest wish to want to look and feel good, and perhaps this sort of resolution is more consistent with the spirit of New Year's resolutions than, say, vowing to save the world.

Other common resolutions are to quit smoking or drinking, to save a certain amount of money every month, or to cut back on work and spend more time with the family. I suppose the common thread is that people resolve to do things that they should already be doing but aren't, rather than re solve to do things that are beyond their imagination.

This year, of course, is special in that we are not only facing a new year, but also a new millennium. I feel as if my New Year's resolution has to be a little more grand than usual.

In the past, I've vowed not to wear baggy sweatshirts in public (something that I completely forgot once when I had to rush to school in the cold), and promised myself to write a few short stories (I've yet to finish a single one). These types of resolutions seem sadly lacking in millennial spirit.

I haven't accomplished as much as I would have liked in my academic research this year, and since my full-time job is to be a graduate student, I know this is definitely worthy of confession and careful planning for the upcoming year. However, somehow it doesn't seem right to "waste" my big New Year's resolution on detailed academic plans.

I think the one big regret I've had as this year comes to a close is not having done enough for other people. I know this sounds sappy, or worse, hypocritical, but I don't mean it in a grandiose way. I don't think singing "We Are The World" will bring peace and happiness to all. I simply realize that even though I've been expanding my activities — new singing lessons, chamber music lessons and college graduate student activities — the social circle around me has become smaller and smaller as I find myself busily scurrying about. I think it's time that I reverse this process.

I've found myself reading by myself on more than one Friday night and thinking that I could have been out having fun with my friends, or that I could have taken out new students to see the city. I could have written to friends who I knew were lonely in other regions (and who perhaps hate me now for not caring) or I could have called my family members, who are just a long-distance call away.

Now that the year is about to close, I can't help thinking of the wistful elderly woman I met at a piano concert who asked me if I could play the piano in her home (the piano was one of the only things she brought when she emigrated from Russia), or the other elderly woman with Scotch taped glasses whom I tried to avoid on the T because I knew that she'd ramble on about her life.

A number of people in my department have written urgent pleas asking students to donate goods for disaster relief efforts in their home countries (Turkey, Taiwan, Venezuela), and I didn't send any old clothes or canned goods or signed checks.

Since this is a special year, I think I can make a special resolution that isn't unnecessarily large. I've decided I want to be kinder to the people around me. That's about it. Maybe next year, I'll resolve to condition my hair every day. Or maybe I'll resolve to save the world.

Shukan ST: Jan. 7, 2000

(C) All rights reserved