Nikkei in San Jose: Japanese Brazilian

Over the past few months, JAMsj has been posting “Nikkei in San Jose”, a blog series by volunteer and writer, Judith Ichisaka. Through research and interviews, Judith explores the diversity of the Japanese diaspora here within San Jose, both through a historical and personal lens. This is the final installment- enjoy!

Nikkei in San Jose: Japanese Brazilian

Japanese immigration to Brazil began in the late 19th century, and was driven by a number of factors, including economic depression in Japan and government-sponsored initiatives. At the time the Japanese perceived Brazil as the most “friendly” in Latin America, and the first significant wave of 700 Japanese immigrants arrived in Sao Paulo in 1908 on the Kasato Maru. About half were from Okinawa, already familiar with the semi-tropical climate. The Japanese immigrants filled a labor shortage on coffee plantations as well as rice farming in southern Brazil.

Following the arrival of the Kasato Maru, Brazilian government subsidization of immigrants from Japan to Brazil paused and resumed for ten years. After the Great Kanto Earthquake in 1923, Japan promoted and fully subsidized emigration to people of all ages, and a number of cooperatives were established to purchase farming land in rural Brazil. As a result, Japanese immigration to Brazil reached 100,000 in the 1930s, with a record of 24,494 in 1933 alone. 94% of the total immigrants started their new lives supporting the agriculture industry. The Issei in Brazil were able to choose which property of land to stay and had far better opportunities in the industry, unlike the Japanese in Peru.

The Japanese Issei immigrants intended to return to Japan as soon as they made their fortune in Brazil. But in reality, a return trip to Japan was exorbitantly expensive for most families. They formed communities which included Japanese language schools and prefecture-based associations (kenjinkai) and 90% of the Issei strongly identified themselves as “imperial subjects” and were staunchly loyal to the Japanese Empire. Their Nisei children held dual nationalities. Brazilians frowned upon the Issei’s lack of assimilation into mainstream culture and limited knowledge of Portuguese.  This sparked further racial tension, and in 1934, Brazil enacted the Immigration Act which limited the number of immigrants from a particular country to just 2% of the total immigration population. Consequently, incoming Japanese immigrants fell to just 1,548 by 1941. Furthermore, the Vargas administration governing Brazil (Estado Novo, 1937-1945) severely restricted children under 14 from learning a foreign language, in particular, Japanese. 

Once the United States declared war on Japan on December 7, 1941, Brazil sided with the Allies and immediately took further measures to suppress the Japanese Issei community. The more affluent Japanese leaders who had supported the Issei community abandoned Brazil and left for Japan. Issei-run Japanese and Portuguese language newspapers were prohibited, and Japanese immigration to Brazil was banned until 1951. Because of their distinct physical features, the Issei and Nisei children who stayed behind faced suspicion, daily harassment, and imprisonment or exploitation. 

In the “interest of national security”, a number of Japanese and Japanese Brazilians - along with Germans and Italians- were uprooted to remote areas of Brazil. However, similar to the Japanese community in Hawaii, interning and deporting the entire population of 250,000 Japanese/Japanese Brazilians was a logistically impossible and costly task. The Japanese Brazilians community was an integral part of the agricultural community in Brazil. Similar to the continental United States and Canada, World War II became the pivotal point for Japanese identity among the Nikkei in Brazil. 

Post-war immigration from Japan to Brazil resurged from 1952, peaking at a little more than 7,000 Shin imin (“new immigrant”) in 1959. Interracial marriages were rare, and approximately one-quarter of single Shin-imin males married Japanese women arriving directly from Japan. Others continued the trend of immigrating as a family unit. 

The Nikkei community believed education was the key to a better life, and many Brazilian Nisei moved from rural areas to the city to attend tertiary schools, including the prestigious University of Sao Paulo (USP). According to Mieko Nishida’s research, by the mid-1960s, one in ten Japanese Brazilians were undergraduates in the state of San Paolo. Some entered law, medical, and engineering, including Edmundo Fujita, who became the first Japanese Brazilian diplomat. Highly educated Japanese Brazilian women began to challenge Brazilian Issei traditional views on gender as well as social inequality they faced, and for a number of social factors, the number of intermarriages in the 1980s increased.

In spite of Brazil’s 21 years of military rule from 1964 to 1985, Japanese people continued to immigrate in the 1960s and 1970s, including descendants of Japanese Brazilians returning from Japan. However, a new generation of dekassegui, Japanese Brazilians who went to Japan largely as migrant labor, left for Japan in the 1980s when Brazil’s economy was in shambles, and by comparison, Japan was experiencing exponential economic growth.

By 1988, there were over 1.2 million Japanese Brazilians and grew to about 1.4 million by 2004. In spite of the heightened economic and social status at the beginning of the 21st century, self-identification within the Japanese Brazilian community has evolved from the traditional Issei perspective. Some Brazilian-born-and-raised Sanseis (and later Yonsei) did not identify themselves as “Japanese” or even “Nikkei”. Many of Okinawan descent neither identified themselves as “Japanese” nor “Brazilian”. Even more complicated, some with mixed ancestry still faced racism for their physical features and struggled with a nebulous Nikkei identity that all Japanese Brazilians experienced at one point. The identity of who is a “true Brazilian” continues to be a debate as Brazil’s demographics overall is changing.

chie’s story

“In Judo, my name is Chie, but I’m Tania everywhere else.” 

Tania Chie Swain, a Japanese Brazilian judoka who competed in the 1992 Summer Olympic trials in Barcelona, is the fourth generation in her family to practice judo. Her father is none other than Chiaki Ishii, who won bronze for Brazil at the 1972 Munich Olympics. 

“When I was in preschool, I was very shy, and I wanted to be in touch with my dad more; he was always focused and athletic,” she recalled in a recent interview. Judo practice became a bonding time for Chie and her father. 

According to Nishida’s “Diaspora and Identity”, the definition of “Nikkei” for Japanese Brazilians in the mid-20th century stemmed from traditional culture, and this was strongly reflected in their attitudes towards gender norms at that time. Women were generally discouraged from pursuing a career, and instead, pressured to focus solely on domestic duties in preparation for raising a family.

“In the 1970s, judo was considered a male sport. So my sister and I were the only girls most of the time. We fought with boys, but then the boys got bigger. My dad was scary, so I didn’t want to make to make mistakes.” 

Chie and her family.

Chie attended a Japanese language preschool and kindergarten in her native Sao Paulo, and then switched to a regular Brazilian school in first grade. 

Brazilian schools were half day, and the rest of the day allowed children to participate in other activities. Chie spoke Japanese at home, and stayed extra hours at school to learn Portuguese. She also attended Japanese lessons, swimming, and music classes – as well as judo.

“Brazilian culture was very macho, women doing soccer was looked down on, judo too,” Chie recalled of her childhood. “I didn’t want to tell others I did judo, people would say [offensive] stuff.” 

At age 12, Chie had a green belt, but confessed to her father that she didn’t want to do judo anymore. 

“Black belt is when you finish,” her father told her, emphasizing resilience and, in a way, the Japanese concept of gaman when times were tough.

Chie’s parents were both born and raised in Ashikaga in Tochigi prefecture, Japan. 

Her paternal great-grandparents started the Ishii family’s judo dojo. The dojo has been passed down to the oldest male in succession, and currently, Chie’s cousin is the owner. Chiaki was the sixth of seven children, so he did not have any responsibility to carry on the family name. As an athlete at six feet tall, Chiaki chose a university with a judo program, and then competed in the trails for 1964 Tokyo Olympics for Japan. He did not make the cut, so he pondered his future. By then he was already dating his future wife.

“There are many stories of why my father ended up in Brazil, but the most accurate was that he was influenced by a neighbor who went to South America and thought it was the future.”

In 1965, with $200 and a suitcase, Chiaki went on an immigration boat for a 45-day boat journey to Brazil. His dream was to be a farmer in Latin America. 

But even with the support of the large Japanese Brazil community there, Chiaki experienced hardships with the language gap in Portuguese and a lack of finances. Even though he was highly educated, he continued to participate in sumo tournaments to help support himself. At the same time, Chie’s mother went to Brazil against her family’s wishes, married Chiaki, and took on a traditional role as a housewife. Chie is oldest of three daughters.

Chiaki finally made the difficult decision to become a Brazilian citizen, so that he could partake in judo tournaments as a representative of Brazil. He eventually competed in the 1972 Munich Olympics. Not only did he win bronze, but he won fame in Sao Paulo, which granted him the opportunity to open five judo schools there.

In the mid-1980s, Chie continued practicing judo for her own reasons, and achieved black belt status at age 15. Aspiring to be in the Olympics, she eventually competed as the youngest athlete at the 1991 Pan American Games. She went on to compete in the women’s half-middleweight event at the trials for the 1992 Barcelona Olympics. Afterwards, she participated in only one more competition and then retired.

Chie met her husband Mike Swain at a judo competition in Puerto Rico. Mike Swain grew up in New Jersey where he started judo, and went across the country to attend San Jose State University and train under Yoshihiro Uchida. Mike also has an impressive judo record, having trained worldwide (including Japan, South Korea, and Europe), and competed in a total of four Olympic games. Mike won bronze for judo in the 1988 Seoul Olympics.

Chie didn’t speak English much at the time she met Mike, but he was able to speak Japanese. They continued a long-distance relationship for 5 years through letters and postcards. But Chie’s parents had reservations about the relationship at first. 

“My parents were very “Japanese”, Chie admitted.  “A big group of Japanese people in Brazil didn’t want to believe Japan lost the war, but my parents weren’t like this.

However, my father was very proud and didn’t think they should be mixed. But in time, my parents came around.” 

Chie and Mike have now been married for 33 years, and have two children who grew up in a multi-cultural household near San Jose’s Japantown. Chie describes her first impressions of the area as “quiet” compared to Sao Paulo’s lively city.

“Brazilians enjoy the moment, know how to enjoy with little, openly friendly and

passionate. A Japanese household is no contact, no showing feelings,” Chie summarized broadly.

“I didn’t have friends here at first, so I went to the San Jose State campus just to practice judo. “It comforted me.”

Chie’s father visited San Jose once, and found it interesting that the Japanese Americans older than him did not speak Japanese. His theory was that the war a factor, but the Japantown community was very tight and kept the culture alive.

“Having kids here made me feel more rooted. They went to Lotus preschool and Suzume no Gakko, where I was a PE teacher,” Chie explained. “But they also attended Catholic mass and visited Brazil to see my parents.”  

“Being able to teach the best part of each culture is important when there’s a diverse cultural background.”

While raising her children in San Jose, she experienced yet another culture – Japanese American. 

“Brazil wasn’t affected by WWII, in the same way as the United States, so I learned about Japanese American history through my kids,” Chie said. “At Suzume, my kids had to interview the former internees and had projects to learn about what the people went through.” 

Chie has been a yoga instructor for the past 10 years, and still visits her parents once a year. 

“Liberdade is now more of an Asian town, and lots of people mingle there. A lot of Brazilians appreciate Japanese culture, they have a farmer’s market, arts and crafts like Nikkei Matsuri in a large plaza,” Chie described. “There’s no Obon in Sao Paulo, but a Japan festival. It’s not just the Japanese Brazilian community, but parts of different communities getting together.” 

Sao Paulo also has a Japanese cultural center, which features the immigration history and a library. But it wasn’t only Japanese food and traditional art that has captivated the attention in Brazil recently.

The Brazilian women’s judo team won their very first gold medal for Brazil at the 2012 London Olympics.

“It took a woman to get a medal for the sport to gain respect in Brazil. Now, women’s judo is very popular - more funds to support judo now, more equality,” Chie smiled.

For the next generation, her advice is simple: “Don’t judge,” she advises. “There’s a reason why people are a certain way. Be curious, learn about the background and their story.”

Nikkei in San Jose: CONCLUSION

My blog series highlights the Japanese diaspora journey across three centuries - from early migrations driven by economic opportunities to the harrowing experiences of World War II, to the facing the challenge of balancing traditions and new perspectives through the 21st century. 

I focused on just a handful of individuals who represent how the definition of “Nikkei” in San Jose’s Japantown has changed since its first development in the early 1900s. Nikkei is not limited to Japanese American Issei or their descendants. Individuals like Yurika Chiba, a Japanese Canadian and San Jose Taiko instructor – and Tania Chie Swain, Japanese Brazilian Yoga instructor and judoka - experienced unique journeys that present insights into the challenges and triumphs of navigating identity in an everchanging American landscape. Bekki Shibayama, a Japanese Peruvian and activist, and Aaron Ushiro, a Japanese Hawaiian and architect, continue to make significant contributions to the societal and artistic development within the United States and abroad.

But my series aims to go beyond highlighting individual achievements and the success of San Jose’s Japantown.

From the challenges of integrating into a new country, injustice during World War II, and struggles with economic and political uncertainty in later decades, the Nikkei experience is just one of many examples underscoring the importance of learning about others and promoting a more inclusive perspective on global migration and multiculturalism.  Understanding the diaspora experience - whether the Nikkei community or another group - is essential for appreciating the complexities of global interconnectivity and intricate layers of individual identity. 

As cultures and identities shift through the 21st century and beyond, taking a moment to reflect on our personal experiences, as well as the diverse history of others, enriches our collective human experience and fosters deeper empathy across different communities.  

Written for JAMsj by Judith Ichisaka

Sources

Reference:

Daniel M. Mastersen with Sayaka Funada-Claussen, The Japanese in Latin America (Champaign: University of Illinois Press, 2004)

Nishida, Mieko, Diaspora and Identity: Japanese Brazilians in Brazil and Japan (Honolulu: University of Hawai’I Press, 2018)

 

This concludes JAMsj blog series, “Nikkei in San Jose”, written by Judith Ichisaka. Thank you for following along with us on a journey through a portion of the Japanese diaspora here in San Jose! To keep up to date on new blog posts, events and exhibits at JAMsj, please consider signing up for our eNews!