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Issue 4 for L.A. City Collegian Spring 2026

Issue 4 for L.A. Collegian Spring 2026

Issue 3 for L.A. Collegian Spring 2026

Issue 2 for L.A. Collegian Spring 2026

Issue 1 for L.A. Collegian Spring 2026

Stepping into Fugetsu-Do, the famous Japanese confectionery shop in historic Little Tokyo, is like taking a step back in time. Every corner of the shop has stayed virtually unchanged since its inception, and plans of changing the interior are unlikely.

Brian Kito, third-generation owner of Fugetsu-Do, 

Fugetsu-Do was the starting point to a new life for Japanese immigrants Seiichi and Tei Kito, who arrived in the United States in 1903.

While raising a big family, they were continuing to grind and work hard to keep the business up and running. 

At the time, Little Tokyo was a neighborhood for many Japanese Americans, it was home away from home. 

“It was comfortable for Japanese people to come here. If you wanted raw fish, this is where you had to come; you couldn’t get it anywhere else.” said Brian Kito. “Japanese food was foreign food. So at the time, the only place you needed to come to was Little Tokyo to get it.”

Because of the deaths of five of their children and wife, Tei, Seiichi was a widower and single father and made harsh decisions to have some of his children raised by relatives in Japan. 

Roy, Brian’s father, was known as a kibei, as he was educated and raised in Japan while born in the U.S. He did go to an American high school, learned English and became very involved in the family business. 

Unfortunately, Franklin Roosevelt signed an executive order to evacuate people of Japanese ancestry to internment camps. Even living life in those camps, Japanese Americans tried to make life normal for them and as for Seiichi, he met Kazuko and he became the one person to make mochi and manju, keeping the culture alive. When the Japanese were released after the war, Seiichi and Kazuko faced hardships trying to get the family business back as there was a property owner who wanted four years of rent for storing their equipment and so they stayed at the Koyasan Temple on 1st St. while Seiichi worked as a waiver for 20 cents an hour, but on Boys Day, May 5th, 1946, with the help of the Tanashi Family, the Kito’s were able to establish the business. The building that Fugetsu-Do is at was planned for demolition, they moved the business on 2nd St. temporarily, but after two years, they were able to move back to their rightful spot, all from the help of Uncle “Nob” who did shelving work and Bob Ing, who did the electrical work. Since the Ktio family couldn’t pay Ing in full, they were able to pay him back in credit, so because of his generosity, Fugetsu-Do wouldn't have been able to re-open on their rightful location. Through the help of a community, they were able to be back on business. 

Flash forward to now, Brian Kito, continues to keep the Fugetsu-Do legacy alive. This shop was more than just a mochi shop, it felt like home. Although, it is becoming less Japanese as the years go by because of gentrification, but it didn’t start recently. “It’s gone through waves and so I want to say this is about the third wave I’ve seen. We went through redevelopment back in the late 70s, early 80s; where they tore down all these little buildings and all the little mom and pop shops left, that was our first wave of gentrification I was exposed to,” Kito said. “Then it slowly kind of moved back, and then these Japanese companies come into Little Tokyo who basically took over an entire block, we consider that gentrification too. Little Tokyo was created by first generation Japanese, but we have a festival called Nisei Week, which is second generation, so this was created by Japanese Americans, not Japanese from Japan.” 

Even though Little Tokyo slowly becomes less Japanese, there is a surge of a young generation who has an appreciation for Japanese culture because of the influence of anime. Brian has noticed the appreciation and gives anime the credit for bringing non-Japanese into the culture. 

“Anime kind of shifted people into becoming more very into Japanese culture; wanting to visit Japan or coming to Little Tokyo, and seeing the little shops. That’s a cool thing,” says Kito.

Brian recounts having an employee from Boyle Heights who learned Japanese on her own because of her love for anime and reading the manga. “I thought it was amazing that anime does that and it has helped this area and made it a cool place to be.” 

The foot traffic of Little Tokyo increased and because of these anime watchers or otaku, who are eating the food and going to the shops in the Japanese Village Plaza have made the area one of the most popular places in Los Angeles. 

“The true thing is to spread the culture so people understand Japanese culture, then you have less to worry about because it’s people who don’t know about other cultures are the ones who pass judgement,” says Brian. “And so, the more people understand or parts of Japanese culture, I think it is better for all the Japanese and Japanese Americans.”

After the war, when Japanese Americans left the camps, they raised their children to become American first. Brian’s parents did just that with their children and although they had Nisei Week, he had sisters playing instruments. One of them played a Japanese instrument while the other played the piano, but the fact of the matter was that they had a rarity if they were in their own culture versus being American. Japanese parents wanted their children to have an education, they wanted them to have high profile jobs such as doctors or lawyers, but it is a rarity to see them work in family businesses. Since Fugetsu-Do is a family business, Brian understands the commitment it takes to upkeep one as valuable as the shop, he would have hoped that his son would take over the shop, but he also doesn’t wish that kind of life for him either as it is a big obligation to own a business. Brian has struggled trying to keep his employees paid. His son has worked and left three times so he's content to give him leeway to leave if he wants. 

The future of Fugetsu-Do is unknown, Brian does plan to retire in a couple of years and decisions are going to be made by this or next year, he’s wondering whether the business will close or be sold. This is a mochi shop that specializes in handmade mochi. He's known how to make it since childhood. “It’s not like I can put an ad out for a baker and find a qualified baker to come into my shop. There’s only five of these mochi stores in the United States and so you can’t find employees that are trained in the field. I need an expert mochi maker.” 

There is also the matter of making non-traditional mochi for the western pallet, but the shop does so well and has taken off because their mochi is popular. Their most popular mochi are the strawberry peanut butter mochi and the chocolate ganache. “They’re not the old traditional stuff that my grandfather made, or my dad, but they’re still good. They’re easier for non-Japanese.” Sweet red bean paste was the main mochi filling in Japanese mochi, although not wildly popular, even Brian isn’t a fan of it. Before COVID-19, around seven, eight years ago, they took off. The shop tried to figure out if they were going to make it or how they could serve customers since they were only able to allow two people at a time. Either way, the lines got longer and longer. 

“I went outside one day and I looked at the time and I asked, ‘how many of you had mochi before?’ Like one out of 25 raised their hands. I thought, wow, the rest of you guys are waiting in line to try something you’ve never had before, so yeah this was like 2021 or 2022.” 

Brian says Fugetsu-Do has a spirit and that it wants to survive. He doesn’t know what to do with it now at this point, he would have thought years ago that he was done, he would just close it, but it’s doing so well now. “It’s a different animal than it’s ever been before and I told my niece recently that I probably can’t just sit and close it. I would probably have to sell it, not because of the value, but because no one else is making what we have here. So for the community itself, they need this store.”

There are places where you can get Japanese imported goods or a place that understands the American taste buds, so Fugetsu-Do has it all. 

Memoir Examines Less Traveled Road to Adoption

Lane Igoudin has led many lives. He carved out a new one when he came to the United States with his family as a refugee from the former Soviet Union. Today, he is a full-time professor of English and linguistics, a best-selling author and a father of two girls. Lane appears relaxed on the third floor of Jefferson Hall at Los Angeles City College in front of a wall-to-wall bookcase. There are books everywhere.

Lane's life as an educator is a driving force in the community, as he’s helped students who struggle with English as their second language for 20 years at LACC. The professor speaks five languages, including Russian, French, Spanish and Hebrew. 

“I've been teaching in a variety of modalities," he says. "While my ESL courses could be in-person on campus or on Zoom, my linguistic courses now, all of them are asynchronous. ... The challenge, I would say, with asynchronous courses, is to find that sort of direct one-on-one interaction ... find a way to connect with an individual student that you actually never get to meet in person.” Lane smiles and his eyes brighten when he talks about work. He is influenced by his early life as a refugee, and now his experience as a professor. Many students have come to this country with similar experiences of their own. City College educates students from 70 to 80 different countries.  

“I can relate firsthand to what my students are going through because I went through that, many years ago,” Lane says. “So, as a non-native speaker of English and an immigrant, I understand them. I think I have a pretty good idea as to what they need and about the sequence of skills that they need to develop in their writing, their grammar and their reading.”

From Uncertainty to Parenthood

Lane has always seen himself as a father figure because he helped raise his sister, who is nine years his junior. However, he never thought he would be a husband. 

“I thought I knew I was gay, but I kind of thought that maybe I'm not. I didn’t know if I'll be able to handle a long-term relationship,” he says. “But, you know, 28 years later, I think we're doing okay.” 

Jonathan is Lane's husband, and he comes from a family of 10. He has nieces, nephews, grandnieces and grandnephews but was not so sure he wanted a family of his own. Lane told Jonathan that he wanted to have a family, and Jonathan began to warm up to the idea. They decided to pursue fatherhood, and they were "clear-eyed" about it."And things started to go pretty crazy. And I would say pretty wrong almost from the very beginning as I realized this is something I've never read about,” Lane says. “This is something that really isn't out there that's been covered — what it's like to go into the system and try to adopt a child or two."

Foster care and the adoption system were unfamiliar turf. Lane leaned into his education and prior experience in business communication and as a writer, and he chose to document the journey, no matter the outcome.  He wanted to share the information with other prospective parents and to create a record for society. 

He focused on a part of American life that is invisible to most people: the children's courts, foster care and foster adoption.

There are hundreds of thousands of children in the foster care system in the United States. The most recent data shows that 328,947 children were in foster care in the U.S. as of Sept. 30, 2024, according to the National Council for Adoption (NCFA).

"People have some very general ideas, but they really don't know what's happening. And I thought, this will be my job, to explain what's really happening," Lane says of the motivation for his memoir. 

"A Family, Maybe" chronicles the path that Lane and Jonathan traveled to adopt two siblings in foster care that they had raised since birth. It describes the trial and error the couple experienced and their transformative journey through foster adoptions to parenthood.

"It’s a warm and funny experience because there are two men who have no experience raising babies, and suddenly, they are trying to learn how to become dads," Lane says. “It's not fantasy. In that sense, it's fun. It's interesting. It's warm, but it's also a core drama because overlaying all this ... are the court proceedings. There’s one court hearing after another, after another ... and there's no end in sight.”

Lane says the process can be "intrusive and disempowering." In many ways, it has marginalized them as an adoptive family, but also as an LGBTQIA+ family. At the time their story unfolded between 2005 and 2008, the LGBTQIA+ community was fighting for equal rights. Lane and Jonathan were involved parents. “So, being part of the gay dad club, demonstrating by pushing the stroller in pride parades, reaching out to the right officials, writing letters and testifying as far as the U.S. Senate,” Lane says. “As well as the Judiciary Committee of the Senate, where we testified in support of equality.” Lane documents the way society treated the first generation of gay families. There were major social and political repercussions to being a gay parent back then, as well as to being in a family led by a same-sex couple. 

Further complicating matters, their marriage was not recognized in the eyes of the federal government even though they married in June of 2008. California’s Proposition 8 outlawed same-sex marriage five months after they wed. They ended up in legal limbo, which meant that they were sometimes perceived as two unrelated adults who wanted to adopt and raise two children.

Perfect Children Do Not Exist

Adopting and raising children coming from the foster care system may have experienced trauma, so they require patience. It is important to be prepared. Lane recalled the process of going through the child-desired worksheet, which is described in one of the chapters of his book.               

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“ ‘What children would we wish to raise?’ This was the question John and I were struggling with, pouring over the county's child-desired worksheet. It started with the desired number of children and their prospective age(s). Fairly quickly, we agreed on a sibling set of two, so they would always have each other. Ages zero to five. In other words, ‘two kids, two very small siblings,' Lane said. “ ‘Now, gender,’ I said. ‘Any thoughts?’ ‘I think girls, they would have an easier time with two dads,’ John said. ‘There'd be no masculinity questions nor stigmas. One less thing to worry about.’ “ ‘I agree,’ I replied. But I didn't just agree with John, I loved his choice. Raising a girl was familiar to me. I helped to raise my younger sister, Natalie, and we remained close throughout our adult lives,'" Lane said. "Would you be willing to provide care for a child of a different race or ethnic group?" "If yes, how would he or she be accepted in the neighborhood, in the school, by relatives and friends? How would you help the child maintain connections with his or her own culture? 'Cultural heritage can be priceless in giving an adopted child a sense of roots. It may also become a source of contention. Whose culture do we honor by continuing? Conversely, whose do we not? How, for instance, would I feel not bringing up my child Jewish, erasing the 4,000 years of my history and traditions? Would such cultural sensitivity align me with the Jew haters of the world who would love to wipe out my heritage? How would John feel raising a child without honoring his African American heritage? ... In the end, we marked all ethnicities with a preference for mixed race,'” Lane said.

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