39th Annual San Jose Day of Remembrance

By Will KakuThe 39th Annual San Jose Day of Remembrance event commemorates the 77th anniversary of the signing of Executive Order 9066. The order led to the forced removal and incarceration of 120,000 people of Japanese descent during World War II. Hundreds of people will gather together at this annual event not only to remember that great civil liberties tragedy but to also reflect on what that event means to all of us today.The 2019 event carries the theme "#Never Again Is Now". During the past year, the story of Japanese American incarceration has been melded into several big national stories.In June, many Americans were alarmed by the consequences of the government's "Zero-Tolerance" border policy.  People were horrified when they saw photos of children in cages and when they heard children crying for their parents who were separately held in other detention centers.   In an op-ed in the Washington Post, former First Lady Laura Bush wrote, "These images are eerily reminiscent of the Japanese American internment camps in World War II, now considered to have been one of the most shameful episodes in U.S. history."Other prominent Americans also drew stark parallels with the World War II incarceration of Japanese Americans. Actor and activist, George Takei, said, "I cannot for a moment imagine what my childhood would have been like had I been thrown into a camp without my parents. That this is happening today fills me with both rage and grief: rage toward a failed political leadership who appear to have lost even their most basic humanity, and a profound grief for the families affected."Another big national story materialized a few weeks later when the United States Supreme Court reversed a series of lower court decisions by upholding the third revision of the Trump travel ban.  The decision in  Trump v. Hawaii also referred to Japanese American WW II incarceration. Justice Sonia Sotomayor scorching dissent invoked the 1944 Supreme Court case, Korematsu v. United States:"By blindly accepting the Government’s misguided invitation to sanction a discriminatory policy motivated by animosity toward a disfavored group, all in the name of a superficial claim of national security, the Court redeploys the same dangerous logic underlying  Korematsu and merely replaces one “gravely wrong” decision with another."Although the Court's five majority justices disagreed with Justice Sotomayor, the majority opinion stated that the Court now had the opportunity to "express what is already obvious: Korematsu was gravely wrong the day it was decided, has been overruled in the court of history, and—to be clear—has no place in law under the Constitution.”The San Jose Day of Remembrance event was started 39 years ago by local activists to bring awareness of the United States government's actions to forcibly remove and disrupt the Japanese American community.  The organizers, the Nihomachi Outreach Committee (NOC), also wanted to use the event to mobilize the community in support of a formal apology by the United States government.  This apology was eventually given as a part of the Civil Liberties Act of 1988.As recipients of an official apology from the United States government, many Japanese Americans, as well as other Americans, feel that it is their responsibility to defend their friends, neighbors,  classmates, colleagues, and other communities when they become the target of discrimination. During these tumultuous and divisive times, ordinary people are rising up within their own communities to effect positive change. This spirit of community activism is captured in the annual San Jose Day of Remembrance event.

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San Jose Day of RemembranceSunday, February 17, 20195:30 p.m. - 7:30 p.m. San Jose Buddhist Church Betsuin640 North Fifth StreetSan Jose, CA

Visit www.sjnoc.org for more information.The 39th Day of Remembrance features Don Tamaki, an attorney from the Korematsu Coram Nobis legal team; Teresa Castellanos, a representative from the County of Santa Clara Office of Immigrant Relations; Chizu Omori, an activist, former internee, and co-producer of the film, "Rabbit in the Moon"; a special performance by internationally acclaimed San Jose Taiko, and the traditional candlelight procession through historic San Jose Japantown.   

Remembering Jimi Yamaichi

Remembering Jimi YamaichiBy Will Kaku

The day after I heard that Jimi Yamaichi passed away, I didn't know what to do with myself. I felt a deep sorrow and emptiness. I viewed Jimi as a great mentor, a role model, an inspiration, and a friend.Although I did not sign up to be a docent at JAMsj on that day, I felt that it would be better for me if I came into the Museum that afternoon. I had hoped to find solace with others who knew Jimi, but I also desperately wanted to remain connected with Jimi's presence.  Jimi put his entire heart and soul into the Museum and I can still feel his boundless energy, optimism, dreams, and passion in that space.Jimi's relentless drive and determination are well-known by those who know him. We all have our Jimi stories on this topic. I remember one time when we were working at the Museum construction site when I found him lying face down by the quonset huts. He insisted that he was fine and that he "would get up in a few minutes after resting." I performed a first-aid inspection on him and asked if he could feel me touching his arms and legs. He said that he didn't and I immediately called for an ambulance. This was just several days before he was to lead tours at the Tule Lake Pilgrimage. I called a friend of mine who was on the Pilgrimage planning committee and told her that Jimi would unfortunately not be attending because of his hospitalization. To my great surprise, Jimi still attended the event, leading tours and giving presentations with two black eyes!Jimi was a very caring person.  This is also true about his wife, Eiko, and the rest of the Yamaichi family. Since Jimi's passing, I have heard numerous stories about how Jimi and Eiko took people under their wing, especially those that lost loved ones or individuals who were new to the community.I remember when I first met Jimi at my first Tule Lake Pilgrimage. I was new in the community and I didn't know anybody as I sat by myself in the auditorium. Jimi came by and sat next to me. He immediately struck up a conversation and gave me some historical items that he had collected. Jimi made me feel very special.  Jimi did that with everyone.I asked Jimi many questions about the Tule Lake concentration camp, the "No-No Boys", renunciation, resistance, and dissent in the camps. Those are difficult issues that I still struggle with today.  My family's past actions do not fall into the overpowering, inspirational, and often repeated narrative of Japanese Americans who overcame their unjust incarceration through their great military valor, heroism, and patriotism. I had nobody who could explain at a deeply personal level why someone would take these controversial positions as my relatives were deceased, suffering from dementia, or were extremely reticent to talk about their past actions.Jimi understood my conflict.  He thoughtfully explained to me the tortuous personal journey that he took in protesting his confinement.  To my surprise, he later told me that he stood with my uncle in a Eureka courtroom where the Tule Lake resisters told the judge their side of the story. Through these conversations with Jimi, I began to understand that Jimi, my family and other dissidents did not hate this country and were not cowards, as some have called them. They  simply wanted this country to uphold its very values, beliefs, and laws under the Constitution.One of my last memories of Jimi was at this year's Day of Remembrance program, an event that I help organize every year.  I came to his home the day before the event to pick up the beautiful candle lighting display that he created for the ceremony that honors Japanese Americans who were incarcerated during World War II.  Jimi had just come home from the hospital after an illness. I told him that it would be better if  he didn't come to the event so he could fully recuperate.  The next evening,  I was shocked to see Jimi at the event. Somehow he willed his frail body to attend the program. His son, George, told me that Jimi felt that the event was very important to him and he insisted that George drive him to the event. I realize how physically strenuous it was for Jimi to make  -- what I now know-- his final trip to the event.  That really means a lot to me.On the day after his passing, it was somewhat difficult for me to give museum tours that day since I always have several Jimi stories that I incorporate into my narrative.  I had to pause or slow down a bit after I became a bit emotional. I still get teary-eyed as I tell those stories but I also know that Jimi's spirit, vision, and dreams live on here at the Museum, in San Jose Japantown,  at Tule Lake, and most importantly, within all of us. 

Return to Heart Mountain

By Will KakuThe Heart Mountain concentration camp has always represented a critical turning point for my father’s family. As I had written in previous articles and speeches (links to some of these are below), Heart Mountain was the place where my father and his brothers struggled and debated as to how they were going to answer the infamous Questions 27 and 28. Heart Mountain was the location where my Uncle Tak decided that he was going to resist the draft. Heart Mountain was where my Aunt Itsu made a dramatic transformation from an innocent, acquiescent, and naive young women to one who became more aware of her dire situation and more vocal about racial discrimination and the violation of her civil rights.Despite that significance in my family’s history, I could never find the time to make the journey to the Heart Mountain Interpretative Center. During the fall, my mother told me she wanted to visit Yellowstone National Park, so I decided that I could finally combine that trip with a visit to the old camp site which is just an hour drive from the park.The Heart Mountain Interpretative Center opened in 2011, just a year after we completed the major renovation of JAMsj. Because I assisted in providing content for the JAMsj camp exhibit, I was fully aware of space, cost, and vision constraints that had to be considered in exhibit design. I was keenly interested in how the Heart Mountain Wyoming Foundation (HWMF) presented the Japanese American incarceration story to the public in their facility.One major aspect of the HWMF presentation, the first-person narrative, is extremely effective in bringing out an emotional connection to an infamous event in our nation’s history from over 75 years ago. After a short museum overview, my mom and I were encouraged to view the short film, All We Could Carry, by Oscar-winning filmmaker, Steven Okazaki. All We Could Carry powerfully captures the devastating impact of incarceration at Heart Mountain through the voices of former inmates.Several kiosks in the museum also incorporate moving first-person accounts. Exhibit placards continuously reinforce the first-person point of view by utilizing the inclusive pronoun "we". We felt that we were also making our own journey through the great civil liberties and human rights tragedy from WW II.The 11,000 square feet of space also enables exhibit images and artifacts to extend out into the floor space, providing a fully immersive experience to the visitor.Every square foot of the museum is used to transport you back into the diverse and complex Japanese American incarceration experience. Even the reflective restroom toilet stalls convey the feeling of embarrassment and the loss of privacy that many former inmates experienced in the camps.Importantly, the museum exhibits challenge visitors with questions that are pertinent to our lives and political discourse today. One display asks us about what we think about the 14th Amendment and birthright citizenship. Another asks us if there are any circumstances under which the curtailment of civil liberties by the government is justified.It took us a long time to explore the many museum displays and my mother became tired. We came back the next morning and wandered around the self-guided walking tour next to the museum. We saw the locations of the Heart Mountain hospital where my father worked for a short time, the school that he attended, and the train station where my father boarded a train that transferred him to the Tule Lake camp. We walked solemnly during that quiet, cool morning and we reflected on his life.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Related articles by Will Kaku:Lost WordsThe Secret of Tule LakeLiving HistoryPower of Words: Internment Camp or Concentration Camp  

The Importance of Japanese American Traditions

By  Susan NakamuraOne of the goals of the Japanese American Museum of San Jose (JAMsj) is to preserve the unique history of our ancestors for future generations and to share their accomplishments and hardships with others. Japanese Americans can trace their roots to Japan. But their immigration to America, farming experience, and incarceration during World War II have combined to create Japanese American identity and culture.As a young girl, I recall my mother pointing out my grandfather as an example of gaman: persevering through difficult times with hard work and without complaining. Through his example I should learn these virtues. Because my grandfather was born in Oahu, Hawaii, at that time a U.S. territory, he was a dual citizen of the United States and Japan. The family came stateside in 1906, the year of the San Francisco earthquake. They were forced to move every four years because the California Alien Land Law of 1913 prohibited Japanese from owning land or possessing leases for more than three years.My grandmother was a picture bride from Kumamoto, a province on the island of Kyushu in Japan. Initially, my grandmother and her father were reluctant to have her travel to a ‘foreign’ country and unknown land. Her father later changed his mind. He told my grandmother that if she went to America and married my grandfather, they would   return to Japan in three years. As it turned out, they never returned to Japan.My Grandmother Kajiu changed her name to Yoso, because Kajiu was also the name of my grandfather’s mother. And two Kajius in America would be too confusing. She took the name Yoso, her older sister’s name, who died earlier from a brain hemorrhage after working in the rice fields.According to papers, my grandparents were married in 1919, but my grandmother did not make her journey to America until 1920. She sailed out of the port of Nagasaki on the SS Persia Maru, the last ship for picture brides from Japan.   The journey to California took 27 days, with a stop in Hawaii to let off other picture brides.Like many Japanese immigrants in Santa Clara valley, they worked as farmers. They grew strawberries and vegetables in Sunnyvale, San Jose, and Campbell while they raised their growing family. In about 1940, the family of seven children moved back to Campbell, where they lived in a tar-paper house with an outdoor furo (bath) and latrine (outhouse). The location of the property was on Union Avenue, not too far from the Pruneyard shopping center, which at that time was a prune orchard.During WWII, the family was incarcerated in the Heart Mountain Relocation Center in Wyoming. The family members traveled there by train with the blinds drawn down; they were not allowed to look out the window. Then they were transported in military trucks to the barracks. They saw their first snow ever, and to these Californians it was very cold.   Their barracks had a pot belly coal stove in the middle and army cots for beds. The mess hall, bathroom, and washroom were in another building. There were blizzards in the winter and thunderstorms in the summer.After the war ended in 1945, my grandparents’ family members returned to Campbell. They were fortunate that their landlord, Mr. Whipple, had watched their house and belongings. But they had to start from scratch to get on their feet and earn a living. They picked prunes, prunes, and more prunes, because it was a family job, one in which everyone worked together. Later they became sharecroppers, growing strawberries with other white farmers.Growing up in Santa Clara Valley, our extended family traditions included mochitsuki, obon, and hinamatsuri. It is amazing that these traditions could survive through all the hardships of life in America.At JAMsj, these traditions are being carried forward so that future generations and the community can learn about their roots or the roots of their friends. Strong personal virtues and a sense of one’s roots can help develop your own identity and define who you are. And that is why we at JAMsj feel it is important to have programs and events to celebrate, commemorate, and uphold these traditions.For more information about internment camps and to view a replica of a camp barrack, visit JAMsj at 535 North Fifth Street in San Jose. Completely run and operated by community volunteers, JAMsj is open from Thursday through Sunday, 12 noon to 4 p.m. The admission fee is $5 for adults; $3 for seniors and students; and free to members, children under 12, and active military. We would love to see you.Please join JAMsj on March 1 for our annual hinamatsuri festivities. Children and their parents will be able to create items with paper, glue, and other crafting supplies. Hinamatsuri activities are fun, social, and open to the public. Adult helpers will be on hand to supervise these fun art activities.(I credit my aunt, June Takata, who was the unofficial family historian, for the many details included here. I also picked prunes.)

The Story of the 120,000 Tassel Tapestry

Leila Kubesh,  the teacher who inspired her 8th grade students to create the 120,000 Tassel Tapestry, will be coming to JAMsj on June 23, 2012 to talk about her project.The Story of the 120,000 Tassel Tapestry   By Leila Kubesch and Steve FugitaThe amazing story of the 120,000 Tassel Tapestry began in Indiana, where foreign language teacher Leila Kubesch taught French, Spanish, and Japanese to 8^th graders at Sunnyside and Tecumseh Middle Schools. As part of her responsibilities, Leila directed the foreign language club. Each year this club took on special interest projects.  The project that holds a special interest to JAMsj was the creation of a grand quilt commemorating the Japanese Americans who were incarcerated in concentration camps during WWII.Initially, Leila started teaching the history of Americans of Japanese Ancestry (AJAs) to encourage students to stop mocking Asians. She began by reading books such as The Bracelet and Hero. A few students were puzzled and asked, “Is this true?”  They had never heard anything about Japanese American history before.The students decided to turn the school courtyard into a Japanese Zen garden to honor the 100^th Battalion and 442^nd Regimental Combat Team. The next year, the second class added a large pond. In 2000, when the students learned about other military units like the 1800^th, the MIS, and 522^nd, they wanted them to be included, too. Their dream culminated in the building of a traveling exhibit that could be shown across America.  The exhibit would involve the making of  a very special quilt.During the first semester of the next academic year, the tapestry was started at Tecumseh Middle School. In the beginning, the students were often told, “It cannot be done.” Leila was even turned down for a grant on the grounds that the project was too ambitious. To initiate the project, the students obtained a comprehensive list of AJA veterans from military archives. Using this list, they mailed more than 3,000 letters to the veterans. Many of the recipients wrote back and even sent their historic mementos.When Leila moved to Sunnyside Middle School for the second semester, many students followed  so that they could continue working on the project. During the summer, students from both schools worked together until it was complete. This included weekends and holidays. Often, students and teacher went home past midnight. This brought the two rival schools, one well-to-do, the other inner city, closer together. Many of the students became good friends. Ultimately, 503 students from Sunnyside and Tecumseh Middle Schools worked on the quilt. When it was finished, it was proudly hung for the first time in the school gymnasium.The students named the quilt the 120,000 Tassel Tapestry to represent all of the AJAs who endured WWII injustices. It measures 19 by 41 feet, dimensions chosen to represent 1941, the  year in which Pearl Harbor was attacked. It comes in 12 panels and looks like a Japanese shop curtain called noren. Because someone told the students that the kanji for noren is similar to the word ”goodwill,”  they insisted on using the noren style. The tapestry weighs some 350 pounds.In 2008, Leila married and moved to Cincinnati, Ohio, where she teaches English as a Second Language at Sharonville Elementary School. But her Indiana students will never forget the special projects she inspired them to take on, in particular the 120,000 Tassel Tapestry. --------------------------------------------------------------Leila will talk about the 120,000 Tassel Tapestry at 1:00 p.m on  June 23 at JAMsj. Please reserve your seat by contacting the JAMsj office (408) 294-3138 or by emailing events@jamsj.org.

The Emotional Journey into Camp Days

The following article was written by JAMsj docent, Will Kaku. He reflects on the Chizuko Judy Sugita de Queiroz’ Camp Days 1942-1945 exhibit. The exhibit will be closing on December 30, 2011.

 The Emotional Journey into Camp Days

By Will Kaku

When the JAMsj reopened in October 2010, I used to start my tours like many docents do: in chronological order starting with the story of Chinese and Japanese immigration, the insatiable appetite for cheap labor by agribusiness and industrialists, the impact of racial attitudes and anti-Asian exclusionary laws, and the transition of an immigrant population from a “bachelor society” to one of permanence in San Jose’s Japantown. To me, to start from the beginning was the only way to tell this story.That is how many of us learned history in school.   We were often immersed in historical timelines, the identification of key events, influential innovations, political leaders and movements, and the study of causality. There were many facts that had to be understood, necessitating a firm grasp on the “who, what, why, when, and where” of history.When it came to Chizuko Judy Sugita de Quieroz’ watercolor art exhibit, Camp Days 1942-1945, it just didn’t seem to fit my linearly constructed, fact-driven narrative. I often concluded my tours informing my tour group that we also had an art exhibit room which they could walk through and enjoy at their own leisure.I just didn’t get it.  I simply saw that there were brightly colored images on the exhibit walls that depicted slices of camp life. There didn’t seem to be any sense of connectivity and profundity, and it missed the opportunity to make an overt political statement.  There were also several  paintings done in a child-like manner. I could probably paint better than that, I thought.During my breaks, I used to sit and relax in the Camp Days exhibit room, enjoying quiet, introspective times. Letting my mind wander into Chizuko’s paintings, I would reflect on the many former internees that I had met.  And eventually, I started to understand.Sometimes the appreciation of art is like that.  Like a fine wine, you often can’t appreciate it until you are fully aware of its subtle complexity.  You cannot viscerally connect to the work until you are able to unlock the deeply embedded emotional layers.   Chizuko’s exhibit describes a young girl’s journey into womanhood and reveals a deeply personal, emotionally scarring reaction to internment, a reaction that many former internees can identify with.  For many in the Japanese American community, the repercussions of internment define who we are, shaping our values, political beliefs, and emotional character.In Chizuko’s work, there are basically two major styles represented in the exhibit:  a representational form and an abstract form that embeds impressionistic components.  Many of the representational forms are painted in a child-like manner, although it would be more accurate to say that they are painted through the eyes of a young Chizuko and layered with the knowledge of what was yet to come from the adult Chizuko.Chizuko had the most difficult time trying to create the abstract forms.  Many of these paintings are heavily textured with deep emotions that include sorrow, loneliness, loss, and longing.

Uncertain Future depicts Chizuko’s family looking far off into the distance, contemplating what their future holds for them when they are finally released from the camp. Many people had great difficulty trying to recover their lives, and some encountered hostile reactions from their former communities. I once met Miyo Uzaki, a former internee, who told me that when she returned to her church in the Fresno area after the war, the pastor of her church informed her that he and the congregation did not want her family to return to the church. JAMsj curator, Jimi Yamaichi, remembered, “When we tried to move into our new home, the neighbors took a vote. We barely got in on a vote of 7 to 6.”Unanswered Prayers covers several major themes that flow throughout Camp Days. In camp, young Chizuko is told that, “If you pray hard enough, your prayers will come true.”  Chizuko remarks, “Camp made me realize that my prayers would never be answered. I knew my mother would never come back to life, and I would never be a blue-eyed blond.”  This idealized longing for a mother she never knew —she passed away when Chizuko was a baby – is captured in other images in the exhibit.  Chizuko states, “Being motherless in camp had a detrimental impact on my childhood.  I didn't have anyone. If I had a mother, I'm sure that she would have protected me and taken me every place with her. I wouldn't have had any traumatic experiences”“That painting is an abstract of me,” Chizuko told me. “I’m coming out of the cement shower room, so uncomfortable, sad, and depressed.”  The naked body of Chizuko suggests great vulnerability, loneliness, and insecurity.  Without her mother, the young Chizuko was becoming increasingly insecure about her body as she moved toward puberty.  The lack of privacy in camp also made her feel extremely uncomfortable. Chizuko explained, “I was always embarrassed to shower with a lot of naked women.”  In one painting, It’s Not Polite to Stare, she was told that she couldn’t play with her classmates because she had no mother and that she was rude because she stared at another woman in the shower.Her prayer to be non-Japanese in appearance obviously means that she would not have to be in camp if she were a “blue-eyed blond.” But, the wish also carries a deeper implication in the rejection of one’s self. Many of us who grew up in an exclusively Caucasian environment -- in a time when no Asian faces were represented on TV, in films , toys, commercials or magazines -- have harbored similar feelings of “wanting to be white” or a disdain and rejection of everything that was Japanese within ourselves.Other paintings in the exhibit convey similar themes.  A Good American, Black and White Houses,  Discovery and Disillusionment, and No Japs Allowed,  reinforce her feeling of being a “bad person” and reveal her painful reaction to ostracism and discrimination.

A Good American Being locked up behind barbed wire, with armed guards, made me feel sad – like maybe I wasn’t a really good American.

Black and White Houses Eight year old, Millicent Ogawa, reasoned that, “White people are good so they live in white houses, and we are bad so we live in the black ones.” I thought she was so brilliant.

Discovery and Disillusionment I had made a great discovery! I had to tell my sister Lil, “All the people here in camp look Japanese!’ I was the youngest of seven children and no one had told me anything, except that we were just moving. My sister patiently explained racial discrimination to me. I was so depressed.

When Chizuko speaks about Camp Days, it often leads to tears. Many of her emotions have been bottled up and suppressed over the years.  Chizuko suffered great loneliness in camp. Her older siblings told her to just deal with her situation, saying “You’re not a baby anymore.”  Much later in life, when she would bring up the topic of camp or her mother, “My brothers and sisters would just say that I just cried and whined all the time and that would end the conversation,” Chizuko explained.Chizuko now says that producing this exhibit was a cathartic experience for her.   She normally paints outdoors, but when she painted Camp Days, she isolated herself in a room, revisiting many of the painful memories. All of the emotions that had been previously submerged and invalidated by others could no longer be held back. “I did a lot of gnashing of teeth, crying, laughing, while just remembering more and more details,” Chizuko recalled.The personal, emotional reaction to historical events is one that many people can identify with.  During the hearings on redress in the 1980s, many people remember the sudden outpouring of long-held emotions.  The emotional repercussions of internment define who many of us are as individuals and as a community.  Armed with this deeper knowledge of Camp Days, the life of Chizuko Judy Sugita de Queiroz, and stories from many of the former internees that I have met, I now start rather than end  my tours in the Camp Days exhibit.  I am very thankful to have taken this emotional journey with Chizuko into Camp Days. This journey will remain with me for a long time.

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Some of the Chizuko quotes in this article were taken from the Camp Days film, “Childhood Memories of Chizuko Judy Sugita de Queiros,” produced by Montez Productions.  The DVD of this film is available in the JAMsj gift shop.

To get more information from the artist, visit www.artbychiz.com.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Film Screening: Sharing and Celebrating Stories from Nisei Honorary Degree Recipients

By Colleen Bentley, California State University Director of Special ProjectsNearly 70 years after Executive Order 9066 forced 250 California State University students to leave their campuses without completing their degrees, several former students’ stories will be brought to light on Thursday, October 27, 2011, with the screening of the video The California State University: Sharing and Celebrating Stories from Nisei Honorary Degree Recipients at the Japanese American Museum of San Jose. The project is a memorial dedicated to the CSU students who were removed from our campuses in 1941-42 and sent to internment camps, unable to complete their education. The CSU Board of Trustees awarded these students honorary bachelor’s degrees in 2010, and the video captures the dignity of the ceremonies as well as the celebration of the families.The 4 p.m. screening will feature the video highlighting former San José State University students. Two recipients, local businessman and SJSU faculty member Yoshihiro (Yosh) Uchida, and Dana Ono, son of Fumi Yokoyama, shared their personal struggles and reflections on both the past and the present.George Takei graciously lent his voice to the project. The video also will show sections of the honorary degree ceremonies at five other CSU campuses.The production and dissemination of the stories is funded by a $23,000 grant to the CSU Chancellor's Office from the California State Library through the California Civil Liberties Public Education Program and aims to honor the approximately 120,000 Californians of Japanese ancestry who were impacted by Executive Order 9066. It is estimated that about 2,500 Japanese American students were forced to leave California colleges and universities, and at least 250 of them were from CSU campuses in Fresno, Pomona, San Diego, San Francisco, San José and San Luis Obispo.In the Spring of 2011, Nisei students or the families of deceased recipients were given honorary degrees under legislation (AB 37) authored  by Assembly Member Warren Furutani, which called on the state’s higher education systems to award honorary degrees to these former students. The campuses searched their yearbooks, archives, library records, historical documents and other materials and were able to contact or locate more than half of the 250 former students or their families. Memorable commencement ceremonies were held at six campuses – Fresno, San Diego, San Francisco, San José, San Luis Obispo and Dominguez Hills, the latter serving as the Los Angeles area site for any elderly students who could not travel to their home campuses. Degree recipients were often attired in caps and gowns, with family members standing in for those who were deceased or too ill to travel.Stories and videos of those ceremonies are located at the CSU Nisei Honorary Degree website. Although long overdue, the students are now recognized as alumni of their campuses.For more information, please contact Colleen Bentley at 562-951-4801 or cbentley@calstate.edu or Kim Shibata at (562) 951-4811 or kshibata@calstate.edu.

Japanese History: In Salinas Chinatown

By Mae SakasegawaIt has been a privilege and pleasure for Fran Schwann and me to be guest curators of this special exhibition. We also worked closely with Deborah Silguero, curator of the National Steinbeck Center.Through this exhibition, Salinas' Chinatown history continues to be told from the perspective of the Japanese community, as related in the accounts of its members. The exhibition covers the period starting from the late 19th century, when the first Japanese immigrants came to work in the local sugar beet fields, and follows their progress in building a cohesive community through their hard work and perseverance. As you walk through the exhibition, you will get a genuine feel for the vibrant community that once was.From the artifacts and photographs, we have woven a story where you can see the Japanese community grow and start to prosper. You will get a sense that the families were starting to enjoy the fruits of their hard work. And you will learn of the Isseis' determination to make a better life for their children.Their journey took an abrupt turn with the signing of Executive Order 9066 on February 19, 1942, when all Japanese citizens and legal aliens were ordered to evacuate California, Oregon, Washington, and southern Arizona, and sent to concentration camps located in remote areas of the United States. Everything that was carefully built up was suddenly taken away.In a few days Salinas' Japantown simply disappeared. Initially, all were incarcerated in the barracks at the Salinas Assembly Center (rodeo grounds). Then in July, they were moved to Poston, Arizona. To leave the mild climate of Salinas for the Arizona desert, where temperatures exceeded 100 degrees, was unbearable. Salt pills and wet towels were passed out to some of the bewildered internees. Many fainted from the extreme heat. Everyone wondered what would become of them in the middle of this desert.The exhibition takes you on an emotional journey through Camp 2 in Poston, Arizona. It also depicts the ordeals of the 442^nd Combat Regiment, the 100^th Battalion, and the Military Intelligence Service (MIS), whose members served their country valiantly while their families were incarcerated. We have also incorporated video interviews of internees, presented by students at CSU Monterey Bay.We are pleased that visitors are giving good reviews to this exhibit. Many have said that it gives them an understanding of how the Issei and the Nisei overcame their hardship through their determination and grit.The exhibit also offers a glimpse of Salinas' Nihonmachi and the community that disappeared.--------------------------------------------------------------------The National Steinbeck Center is located at One Main Street, Salinas, CA 93901. The exhibition, Japanese History: In Salinas Chinatown runs until July 17, 2011.