Paul Tomita; Mary Abo; Karen Hirai Olen; Wendy Tokuda; Stephen Kitajo
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Doug Exton: This program is funded through a more Perfect Union Initiative of the National Endowment for the Humanities.
Robyn Achilles: Thank you for joining us for the Connected Conversations program with the Idaho Humanities Council. I'm Robyn Achilles, executive director for Friends of Minidoka. Friends of Minidoka is the philanthropic nonprofit partner of Minidoka National Historic Site, a unit of the National Park Service located in Jerome, Idaho. During World War Two, 120,000 Japanese-Americans were forcibly removed from the West Coast and unconstitutionally incarcerated during World War Two.
13,000 men, women, and children from Alaska, Oregon, and Washington were incarcerated at Minidoka. This month, we are commemorating the 80th anniversary of the arrival of incarceration to the historic Minidoka War Relocation Center. In the first of this three part series. Kurt Ikeda, director of interpretation and Education at Minidoka, shared information on the history and legacy of Minidoka in the second program.
Doctor Donna Nagata, Professor of psychology in the Clinical Science area at the University of Michigan, spoke to us about her research on the multigenerational impacts of the World War Two, incarceration upon Japanese-Americans, intergenerational processes, and historical trauma. Historical trauma is defined as trauma that is shared by a group and spans multiple generations. In today's program, 80 Years of Reckoning, the Survivor and Descendant Panel, we have Minidoka survivors and descendants with us to discuss their reactions to Doctor Nagata's research about multi generationsl trauma, share their own experiences and our hopes for the future.
Before I introduce our panelists, I would like to quickly review a few terms so we have a common understanding. Issei are the first generation of Japanese immigrants to the United States. This generation was barred from becoming U.S. citizens through naturalization due to restrictive immigration laws. It was not until the 1950s that the USA were allowed to become U.S. citizens.
Nisei are the second generation those born in the US to Issei, and thus are citizens through birthright. Sansei are the third generation, and children of Nisei, Yonsei are the fourth generation and children of Sansei and Gosei are the fifth generation and children of Yonsei. I am deeply, deeply grateful and honored to have with us today a group of Minidoka survivors and descendants.
Mary Abo is a Nisei Minidoka survivor who was forcibly removed from her home in Alaska. She and her family returned to Alaska after Minidoka. Karen Hirai Olen is a Sansei Minidoka survivor who was born at Minidoka. Her family was living in Washington state prior to forced removal, and her family settled in Twin Falls, Idaho after incarceration. Paul Tomita is a Sansei Minidoka survivor from Washington State whose family left Minidoka.
first living in Washington, D.C. and eventually they returned to Seattle. Wendy Tokuda is a Sansei Minidoka descendant. Her family was forcibly removed from Seattle, Washington and returned to Seattle after Minidoka. And we have Stephen Kitajo, a young, younger Minidoka descendant whose family was living in Seattle before incarceration and returned after. Thank you all for joining us today.
So I'd like to start off by asking you what themes from Doc, Doctor Nagata's research, do you see in your own families?
Paul, would you like to start off?
Paul Tomita: Sure. You know, I, in Doctor Nagata's report. Everything that she reported, it happened okay, differently for different families. But, you know, in total, all of us experienced some of it. Okay. And in our situation, is that, my father, who is also a Kibei, he spent time in his elementary school years in Japan after his father died in California.
He and his brother, Ted, they were printers and had a shop in on Jackson Street before World War two. Since 1930. They, reacted to the war in an in a way of being super patriots. You know, they wanted to prove to America that that they were true Americans, you know. You know, even more than they were Japanese.
And so they went all out and and I think you probably know, both my father and my uncle passed the the most secure, background check. And in the last two years of the war, they, worked for OSS secret service in DC, Washington, DC. That's why we got out after 16 months in the assembly center and in Minidoka, we got out and, but also the one of the main reasons we got out was I was had severe asthma.
I was supposed to die there because, of course, I was allergic to dust. And so actually, I don't know if that was one of the main reasons. But my father worked like, you know what, to get us out. And even then, it took him over almost a year to get us out of there. And I survived, obviously. And yes, we were kind of different.
There were only very few Japanese families who were recruited by the federal government to help in the war effort. And so, yes. And and it's true, when we went to the East Coast, we were treated just like white people. We were not discriminated against. African-Americans in the East Coast were treated a lot worse than we were. And we lived with the white families in the projects in Arlington, Virginia.
My father, my uncle was recruited for the last two years back and forth. And then we returned to Seattle after World War Two. But yeah, you know, I mean, that's our experience and is probably unusual, but compared to other, families. But yes, you know, initially we, had to take, endure the humiliation of all the things from, you know, from having to go a couple of weeks to get ready to get all of our stuff to our homes or call whatever we had and, and ending up in, in, Puyallup, you know, for, for five months and then, and then going, you know, being trained over to Minidoka.
But yeah, you know, we, we experienced the same thing as everybody else and up until then, but as soon as we got to Minidoka, of course, in our situation, our situation was different, you know, and and of course, obviously I survived. I'm still here. And, but the fact is, yes, we all suffered and and the information that, doctor, Nagata had, you know, presented.
Yes. It happened some of it happened to us. And but I also realized that we were lucky. But our grandma, who was an alien, even though she came to America in 1907, she had to stay in the camp for the duration. She was there until October of 1945. In other words, she was there three, three, four years. And why?
Because she was an alien. Well, they wouldn't let her become a naturalized citizen. Like like the Asians and so forth. And so she had to stay there and, and and we had to leave. Because if I, if we didn't leave Paul Tomita wouldn't be talking to you today. Thank you.
Robyn Achilles: You know, that's a great point, Paul. And, you know, I, I probably should have started with Mary because, as Doctor Nagata said, the the experiences based on your generation, are are somewhat different. And for Mary, being a Nisei, I think she and Mary is the only Nisei on our call today. You know, her experience was different, having Issei parents.
So, Mary, could you share with us a little bit about, how you see your family's experience? And then, Doctor Nagata's research.
Mary Abo: Yeah. I really appreciated, Doctor Nagata's framework so that I could see how my experiences fit in with other Japanese Americans. I I since I was born in Juneau, Alaska, we were isolated from other Japanese before the war, so, we were different already. My my, as Doctor Nagata said that, economic security was very important.
Luckily, my father had a cafe. So we had, you know, we had, you know, we had food and we had my father had respect in the community. He was a boss. So we respected him. What was different is that we lived almost all, lived at the cafe. We ate all our meals there, and we only went home to sleep.
Our house was very small, so there wasn't very much privacy, much like we had at the barracks in Minidoka. So my parents, did argue a lot, and my father did drink, as, Doctor Nagata showed because of the hard life. He drank almost every night. And there was a lot of, arguing about that. And maybe after the war, because he continued drinking that I consciously didn't understand Japanese.
I grew up after the war being ashamed of my Japanese identity. I was the only Japanese in a community. I didn't appreciate anything about Japanese, especially since the kids made fun of me. As I grew up, I remember wondering why my mother revered a picture of the Emperor as if he were a god and why she chanted before a statue of Buddha.
I at the time was going to the Lutheran church with my friends, and I asked her what she thought of me going to the Lutheran church. And wisely she said, you live in America. You can believe like an American. So I tried to be as American as I could, as white as I could. Like Doctor Nagata said, I was fearful, I think, I know I lack self-confidence.
For instance, I wasn't daring. As a child, I can't swim, ride a bike. Now I can't drive busy freeways. I always wanted to be athletic, but never was. In my younger years, I lacked confidence in expressing my thoughts. I tended to want to conform. To fit in was very important to fit in. My family's ideal for us all, was to become educated, go to college, get married to a Japanese, buy a house, buy a car.
Live the middle, middle class life to have a better life than they did. So I yeah, there was lots in Doctor Nagata's research.
Robyn Achilles: Yeah, she did talk about, you know, Nisei, although your your dad was Issei. There was a, they did a study in California, and they said, you know, the Japanese-American incarcerated men and women actually had higher rates of alcoholism than their Chinese counterparts. So that's that's what Mary's referring to. And then also, you know, that identity, ethnic identity, you know, we felt it was bad to be Japanese, a sense of shame, a lack of belonging in this country that you mentioned.
Karen, how was it for you being, a Sansei and your family, you know, settled in Idaho after incarceration?
Karen Hirai Olen: I everybody. I well, I've been cogitating on this for the last two days, but we, I kind of grew up in a bubble like Paul. We didn't have discrimination. To this day, no one has ever called me the J word. And we had friends who protected us. And were beginning to talk about the incarceration with my peer group, with my high school, class members.
And it was like we never talked about it. My friends that I grew up with went to school with, said that wasn't a consideration, that you were Japanese American. That we always felt you were just like us. And so I guess part of it was I bought into that. But the other side of it was, is that there was also, a sub group that,
Of Japanese families in Twin Falls. So we always shared holidays and, birth days, and but there was always a Japanese twist to them. You know, birthdays were always Japanese food. And in Twin Falls, you. There were no Japanese restaurants. So it was always home cooked Japanese food and sekihan for birthday. And, you know. But it was kind of like we lived in two different worlds.
There was the JA world that we shared, and then the outside world that we lived in with our, our peers and our schoolmates.
Robyn Achilles: Wendy, how about how about you? How do you see your family?
Wendy Tokuda: I totally related to Doctor Nagata's research. totally. And, this feeling of, well, we keep saying shame, but it's bigger than that. You know, I never really felt, I never really felt like a full American. And I don't think until later in my life that I really understand the depth of, impact it had, the internment had, on me because I kept thinking, well, I wasn't there, you know, but, I when my mom passed away, I was going through her documents, and I found this one she paper, the government issued paper she brought from Minidoka, and it was
instructions to, you know, internees when you reenter the world, or helpful hints for relocation. And that was it. And it said things like, do not speak Japanese in public. Don't gather in groups. Remember that some people will have a hard time accepting that you are an American. You just going to have to be patient with that. You know?
Always remember you are representing all other people, all other Japanese Americans, and you want the people to have a favorable, favorable impression of, of your people. So you know, keep that in mind. Don't go to honky tonks or taverns because it will reflect badly on, other Japanese Americans. And somebody there might get drunk and will basically hurt you, right?
And I, I, I have not stopped thinking about that document since I uncovered it. I have, I realized here in black and white where the instructions all these Nisei were given on how to raise their children, you know, so we would be safe. So, you know, laying low, not rocking the boat, all of all of these things that some of you have have talked about.
I could see in myself and I could see in my high school was, you know, big Japanese community or Asian, but I also my dad had a drugstore in the community. Most of his clients were either, African American or JA. So we really grew up in that tight knit Seattle JA community, and it was tight knit. You know, my doctor was JA, my dentist was JA.
I got my gas filled up at the JA gas station. My dry cleaner was JA because those are people who patronize my dad's drugstore. So, you know, it was a very tight knit community. And it was it was, I feel these impacts that we're talking about, I could see it in my peers, you know, this hesitancy to, I think, Mary you were talking about, to to take risks.
This, this real overachiever drive so that we could prove we were good Americans, that we could prove that we had abilities and so we could find our place in America that had real costs. You know, I mean, I am a type A overachiever, and that had real costs. It's hard trying to be perfect all the time.
And I think that's what a lot of us were doing, or at least trying to stay under the radar, you know, be invisible or be perfect. But definitely don't rock the boat. So I, I am so grateful for that research has kind of documented this this long term impact. It had, you know, coming out of the, coming out of the camps, my dad really held on to a bitterness, I think, after, you know, losing everything and then having to I having a difficult time buying his own pharmacy back.
And when he had been in, was taken away, he had just started his second pharmacy, opened his second pharmacy, and he had a brand new Chevrolet coupe and had to sell it for nothing. And the stores were just gone. And, he never really got over it. And I, you know, lots of details about all of this stuff that happened to him, you guys, that I'm not going to drag us down with all of that, but with the importance, the thing that is germane to this conversation is that bitterness that he felt that anger would erupt at, like.
You know, strange times. I would be driving along and someone would stare at us a little too long. You know. What the hell are you staring at? You know, or and or things like one time. And this wasn't off, often because, you know, we're five kids. You know, we didn't have a ton of money, but one time we stayed at a motel someplace, and I remember in the morning, he said, now, always leave the place better than when you found it, because they'll have a good impression of Japanese.
So we all made our beds perfectly, you know, like so. They looked exactly like they did when we came into the motel, were cleaning everything, you know, and everywhere we went, we tried to do that, like, you know, we were ambassadors stepping when we stepped outside of our little community. You know, I think there was a huge amount of pressure on Sanseis to do well in school.
It was it was brutal, to be honest with you. You know, I had so many friends. They knew in junior high that they had to become doctors. And a lot of them did, you know, or engineers or something where your accomplishments were measurable. It wasn't something, you know, because you were only going to be judged. You had to have something concrete, to show your value.
You could not depend on being invisible because we all knew what happened to us, during World War two. You know, it was always. There was a fear. There was a terrible fear. You know, is the reason why none of us learn Japanese. You guys speak Japanese? Any of you? Well, you know, don't speak Japanese in public. I couldn't speak with my grandparents and later in life, I realized what a loss that was.
What a loss. And they had the best of intentions doing it. They just wanted us to fit in.
Robyn Achilles: Thanks. Thanks, Wendy. Yeah. No, that's, thank you for sharing some of your, experiences with your with your parents, you know, and I, you know, I think one of the big themes, you know, she talked about was the silence and how that silence really impacted all of us and confusion and how they communicated.
Wendy Tokuda: you know, they they didn't talk about it. But all of the humiliation they faced being they were prisoners, it took me a long time to say. My parents met in a prison camp. I am the child prisoners. You don't walk out of those gates and everything is okay. You carry all of that humiliation and that pain and that the loss of your those those years, and then have it, like, go away when you have kids.
We felt all of their trauma. We felt it whether they said the words or not. We felt all of those feelings. It did not stop when they left the gates. And, those are the things that became, we we were immersed in it. We were immersed in it. So they were communicating all the time what they experienced.
You know, we may not have known where all of that came from until later, but, it all, we we grew up immersed in it, right?
Robyn Achilles: The silence told us something because there was confusion about this time and that we knew that we weren't supposed to ask about it or say anything. And so doctor Nagata talked about that a lot, and then also how it resonated with the yonsei, but also how they were raised at a different time.
And so how that impacted them differently. So, Stephen, would you share a little bit about your experience as a yonsei?
Stephen Kitajo: Yeah, I think as a yonsei, growing up very early on, I was I was very much. American rather than Japanese, American. I'd have to say, you know, we there were some elements of JA culture that I grew up with, but not. You know, not too many. Not as many, I think, as maybe my, my parents might have had.
Or at least my mom. But I know on my dad's side, you know, I think his his parents, my grandparents raised him and his siblings very to be very American. You know, they they were those do well in school, joined Boy Scouts, you know, do all these things that were very American even to their names. You know, if I look at my dad's side of the family versus my mom's side, I can see the difference in how, you know, a lot of family members on my mom's side have Japanese middle names, or even in Japanese, you know, names that are commonly used.
Of my dad's side, everyone has a very American made American first name. American middle name. You know, so having that contrast between the two sides of my family has helped me see these differences a lot clearer than I think I might otherwise have. But on both sides, there was very much a silence about talking about camp experiences.
It wasn't really something that I was taught as part of family history. When I was younger, I was fortunate enough to have a classmate, a JA classmate whose grandfather would come in to our elementary school class and talk about his experience in camp.
But when I would ask my parents, you know, what our family history camp was, they had didn't really have an idea because they, that information was never passed down to them by their parents. Because you just, they just didn't talk about it. And in a way, I think that. Has pushed me, you know.
Wendy Tokuda: Oh, did we lose this sound?
Robyn Achilles: Oops. Stephen, we lost your sound for for a minute.
Oh, there you are.
Stephen Kitajo: Can you hear me now?
Robyn Achilles: Yeah.
Stephen Kitajo: Okay. Where should I go back to?
Wendy Tokuda: Just the last few sentences.
Stephen Kitajo: Okay.
So I was talking about how my. I didn't know a lot of the history. My parents, when I ask my parents, they didn't know the history either. It was. It was never passed down to them from their parents. And I think that I know at least there's regret.
Wendy Tokuda: We lost you again, Stephen.
Robyn Achilles: That's okay. We'll go. We'll, we'll actually let's go along those themes. You know, one of the themes she did talk about was kind of this loss. You know, there was this loss of cultural heritage in some respect because we didn't have our families had to, leave a lot behind of their belongings behind. But at the same time, they were able to maintain kind of this positive.
There's some positives about incarceration that she mentioned, like the Japanese cultural values that helped the community after, would anyone like to talk a little bit about that?
Karen.
Karen Hirai Olen: Well, I think that, like Stephen and Wendy, my parents never talked about camp to us. When my mom's childhood friends would come and visit us, they would speak to each other in Japanese about camp, so we assumed it was something they didn't want us to know. So therefore we assumed it was bad. And, so, but there were certain things that cultural things or.
I don't know, maybe they were just manners, that we were always, things about. I don't know if it's culture, you know, respecting elders and to be sure that whenever there were guests in your home that you accommodated them first, in terms of when you were, meals or whatever. But I think the other thing were probably like holidays.
We always celebrated New Year's, with typical Oshugatsu stuff.
But the other side of it is they tried to make sure we were totally American, made sure we celebrated the 4th of July appropriately and, you know, with fireworks and, you know, all that stuff. So it was kind of.
We had to be 200% American. Plus, there was another part of us that was allowed to be Japanese, quote unquote. But because I grew up in Twin Falls, you know, my Japanese ness, there's a word that, always had kind of tinged with Hakujin. So my California friend said, you have your Hakujin ways. And I didn't understand that until I lived in LA for about ten years.
Robyn Achilles: Yeah. So, Paul, how about for you? You know the difference, Karen. You know, I was raised in Twin Falls. How about for you going back to Seattle and being within a Japanese-American?
Paul Tomita: Yeah, okay. Post-World War two, you know, the majority of Japanese who lived in Seattle did return. And, I noticed is that, like, while our family is we're generational Buddhist. Okay. From Japan. And so, of course, growing up post-World War two, initially, anyway, most of the ministers, the Buddhist ministers were from Japan. So we got Japanese. Okay.
We heard enough Japanese to that we knew what it was sounded like and like pronunciation. We generally kind of pronounced it similar to, or at least something close to what they how the holiday pronounced it in Japan. And so we always had that, you know, kind of a Japanese thing. Plus the fact grandma lived with us before World War two and grandma lived with us after World War two because my father was the eldest male in the family, so she lived with us even though my mother didn't care for it.
But that's another, that's another thing. That's another story. But the thing here and so we we, you know, we always had Japanese around. And yes, the worst mistake I ever made was refusing to learn Japanese, even though it was free and it was provided by the temple. We, I personally harassed the Japanese. The lady who was trying to teach us Japanese after World War Two.
You know I'm guilty. I'm guilty.
Robyn Achilles: You're so bad.
Karen Hirai Olen: Guilty of that. We made fun of her.
Paul Tomita: Oh, that poor woman, you know. And I regret it. Of course. 83 years old now. And of course, you know, my Japanese is pitiful. It's. But it's my fault. But it took me years to figure it out. Okay.
Karen Hirai Olen: But again.
Paul Tomita: Yeah, yeah. And so, you know, we did have probably, more, acquaintances, with being Japanese and the language particularly. Okay. Then let's say those Japanese relatives or friends of ours who were Christian or nothing, you know, they had no affiliation. So, yes. That part we did and fortunately for us, our temple, we always did have, parental, participation, both parents.
And so we usually had, you know, and we organized a lot of things that Japanese American children could participate in because, yes, even post-World War Two and maybe even worse, we were not invited to participate in a lot of white activities that are that our white friends in school were automatically okay to. So, you know, and so our parents were smart enough to say, okay, you know, in order to keep our kids interested in being, you know, participating is we have to start these things.
We have to start the Boy Scouts. We have to start the Cub Scouts. We have to start the Campfire Girls. We have to do everything to make up for the being shunned by the white dominant community. Okay? Even in Seattle, Seattle, they. They discriminated against us, but they did it nicely, okay? They didn't tell us. Get the hell out of here.
But they made it plain. You don't belong here, you know, go somewhere else. And as a result, our temple was really good. And and our, our ministers and particularly our parents made sure that, they filled the gap, okay, so that we would turn out at least half normal, you know, in the end, you know, in other words, we had a place to go to, you know, and places like, for instance, Wendy, your dad's drugstore.
Hey, it was a hangout.
Robyn Achilles: Oh, I know.
Karen Hirai Olen: Everybody.
Paul Tomita: Went there, And you had that soda fountain.
Robyn Achilles: Oh my God, yes.
Paul Tomita: Oh, my gosh. I mean, that was that was my favorite thing. I would do anything to go and sit there. And your mom would make us, you know, the floats and all this kind of stuff.
Robyn Achilles: Yeah. It was my first job.
Paul Tomita: Oh, hey.
Karen Hirai Olen: Yeah. Root beer float.
Robyn Achilles: Us.
Paul Tomita: Yeah. The Tokudas sold me on that. There you go. It was one of my favorite activities to go to. But see, and and the, the Japanese community, we knew that we were being discriminated against, you know, and so we had to come up with activities to fill our children in our community with, as some hope or with some activity so that we weren't so that we wouldn't go nuts, you know, that we would just be sitting there alone, alone and, and, you know, and hit the sauce and, and do, you know, very inappropriate things.
And so what we did was, yes, the Japanese-American community, you know, we made a concerted effort to provide activities, particularly for our youth. And, and and again, hey, this this is what and I am a product of that. If I didn't have that, you know, other than the YMCA, well, what would I do? You know what what other things would I you know, in the white Boy Scouts, you know, in the community, they didn't want us there.
So, you know, where would we have. So what did we do? We started our own Boy Scouts and Campfire Girls and all the other kinds of stuff. Because if we didn't, if they didn't do that, our parents didn't do that. Basically, Niseis, but also Isseis, if they didn't do that, we would have turned out to be a real mess.
You know, today.
Robyn Achilles: You know well I, I okay. Oh go ahead.
Wendy Tokuda: I actually think psychologically, you know, you said half normal. I think you're right there. I think there was some real damage done to. I mean, I just think about all the JAs I went to school with and went to church. I went to Japanese Presbyterian Church and, and you're right about the second, about creating our own activities.
Robyn Achilles: But there was real psychological damage. I mean, you know, we knew there was something wrong with us. We didn't belong, you know, we didn't fit out there. Yeah.
Paul Tomita: No we didn't.
Robyn Achilles: It was like living in two worlds. Two separate worlds. Well, and so, Mary, I'd like to go to, you know, hearing how it was for you to return, Karen, for your family to be in Twin Falls and Paul and Wendy for your family to be in Seattle with the Japanese-American community. I wanted to ask Mary what it was like for her, in Alaska when her family returned.
And then, I want to go back to Steven for a moment.
Mary Abo: Coming back to Juneau was, a great experience for my father because he was kind of like an essential worker owning a cafe. He was able to get the cafe back because it was located where the mining and, lumber mill and fishermen were. And he supplied the, you know, three meals a day. So, it was good.
His, his business prospered. He was able to get loans from German baker and a German grocer, and they said, you don't have to pay us back till you are solvent again. So we fit. Fit in. But we were separated. We also lived in two worlds, like everyone else. There was downtown where we lived, and uptown, where the white people lived.
I thought it was interesting where people mentioned silence and, Wendy's, the the the list of how to behave sounded very much like what I got as a list, as a teacher taking a drug and alcohol class where they said, do not if there's someone in your family that you're that has done something wrong, do not spread it.
Stay within the family, protect that person and do not let it go out. And I think this silence is what other people have talked about too, is not only shame, but it was also inadequate language. We didn't have the vocabulary. We couldn't speak to our parents, our parents couldn't speak to us. So I think maybe like, you know, like in Steven's generation now there is a common sense vocabulary that they could, exchange.
But it was really difficult with Isseis and Niseis, and, also I thought that, the work it was very important to work. That was one way to rise, you know, and so work is is very endemic in our family. If you don't do your part, someone else has to do it for you. So that is a value that, that was very important in my family.
And I think it helped.
Robyn Achilles: Steven. Steven, would you share a little bit more? I know we got cut off a little earlier.
Stephen Kitajo: Share more about the going back to question one.
Robyn Achilles: Yeah, just your family continuing with your family. How you see your family. Are you as a Yonsei, experiencing this?
Stephen Kitajo: I think, one of the biggest things that I noticed from Doctor Nagata's research that I saw in my own life is how that need to achieve, and achieve greater things than, you know, what my parents and grandparents achieved.
And I definitely remember, you know, feeling a need to not disappoint, not just my parents, but also my grandparents. Because they would they would, you know, they had. Oh, wouldn't it be nice if you were this, you know, or you did this? And I think that that, you know, gets into your mind and gets into your head a little bit and makes you feel like you need to do these things.
To, I guess, make them happy or make them proud. And I think I learned a lot of my life like that just doing all the extracurricular activities, you know, trying to do my best academically. And I think in a lot of ways that there was a trade off. It was definitely a trade off, that I didn't see, you know, probably until after I graduated from college.
And then I was like, well, now. Now what? There's no longer, you know, a lot of those, all those extracurriculars that need to achieve academically. It ends, you know, once you're done, you know, once I got through college and it was, made me look back on that and really examine it and see that that was kind of an effect, of my upbringing.
Robyn Achilles: Well, you know, Doctor Nagata, she talked about the Yonsei being, more focused on social justice and, also activists. And could you talk a little bit about your role on the Minidoka Planning, Pilgrimage Planning Committee?
Stephen Kitajo: Yeah, I, I became involved with the Minidoka Pilgrimage Planning Committee, in about 2012, and it was mainly to learn more about my family history because, again, my parents didn't know it. And my, you know, my grandparents on my mom's side that were in Minidoka, they, my grandmother passed before I was born and my grandfather passed when I was still quite young, and he had a lot of health issues that, you know, I never had any conversation with him, ever, just because of his health issues.
And getting involved in that. Going on the pilgrimage, kind of moved me past learning about my family history and learning more about the broader history. And with that came learning about the causes and also the parallels, throughout history and even in the present. And I'm sure many that will come up in the future. And then having gone through that kind of looking inward to myself and saying, you know what can I do now to prevent this from happening?
Because I think being able to clearly see our intergenerational trauma, not just for myself, but also maybe my peers, other family members, seeing that and wanting to prevent that in other communities, to other people, was a big motivation for my work with the Pilgrimage Planning Committee and also my other interests outside of that, that are very much social justice related.
Robyn Achilles: So then actually, I just want to ask a quick question before, we close out, with our final question, but how many of you have actually been to Minidoka, and part of the pilgrimage and and how what impact did that have on you in this healing process?
Mary Abo: Well, I, I've been, I think, three times to Minidoka, and I brought my sister the first time. She's, eight years older than me, and she didn't want to go, but I talked her into it, and she said she was glad she went there, because she could revisit a traumatic period and not feel, she could feel that she had passed that point of fear.
And I went again with my daughter and her children, and that was really good, because they really, feel that I have shared a part of my history with them. And, I think she understands, you know, what our family went through. So, yeah, Minidoka being there and being with others and being with the younger people, as well as the older people, everyone sharing their experience makes you it just makes you feel like a, you know, really like you belong.
Robyn Achilles: Paul you were recently at Minidoka.
Karen Hirai Olen: Yes. Yes.
Paul Tomita: Yeah, I, I've been going on site to Minidoka since, I guess, early 2000. Because one day, during that time, my wife, said, Paul, when was the last time you were at Minidoka? And then I says, when we got out in 1943, you know, and something like 50 years had passed and and she said, don't you think that you would like to go there and take a look before you die?
You know, and so I, I, you know, we started going and I started going and actually this last time in June, you know, after the pandemic and so forth, I went with my wife and, I was there in early June. And the interesting part of this last visit, though, was I had expressed to Kurt, Ikeda, you know, that you know, one of the leaders in it, Minidoka, you know, and I had I had asked is, you know, is it ever would.
Robyn Achilles: It be.
Paul Tomita: Possible if I could actually visit the actual site where our where our block and barracks were?
Wendy Tokuda: Wow.
Robyn Achilles: You know, and all these years.
Paul Tomita: Now, I've never seen it from the early 2000 until now. You know, I've never I've never actually stepped on that thing. So, while I was there in June, Kurt says, hey, how would you like me to take, you know. And I had asked him before he says, how would you like to for an to, you know, to take me on an actual site?
And he says, you know, it's still owned by a white farmer, okay. That area. And he says, but I have a good relationship with him. And so if we take the park, you know, service car, let's go. And so boom, he took me there and again and I took pictures and videos and so forth. And again, I had not stepped on that soil where barracks 12, I mean, block 12, barracks five, section E, you know, I had not ever been on there since July 4th, Independence Day, 1943.
And so, yes, I thought that my last visit was very significant, Robyn, because I was actually, for the first time, I actually was, you know, sucking up the dirt that I was sucking up in 1942, 43. And I was actually on that, on that, you know, holy ground, you know, and yes, I like that.
Robyn Achilles: Karen, would you like to add anything?
Karen Hirai Olen: Well, I've spent since I've become a volunteer to friends of Minidoka. I've spent a lot of time at this site, including yesterday. But I think that one of the things that still affects me deeply is that I think the reparations hearings and stuff gave the Nisei permission to talk about it with each other and in a way, to let us know, what really happened to them.
And in some, on some levels, what they felt about it. Thank God for the pilgrimages because, I was, able to talk my mother into going one year. I moved back to Idaho in 2006. So I think it was 2008. And, I had talked with her about going this before, and she said no. And then I said, well, the next year I said, I signed you up.
And my mother, being Nisei, is very thrifty. So she didn't want to waste see that money go to waste. So she went. And then the next year she invited her two sisters to join us. And that was wow, really interesting, where I learned about a lot of things that even that they would talk about amongst themselves and knew that I was there.
And I think they did it for my benefit. And because I was 18 months old when we moved out of camp. And, so I think that, the, the pilgrimages, I think really benefited the Nisei community. I think also my mom being able to see other Niseis, it was a safe place for her and her sisters to share their experiences with each other, which I think is was really interesting to them because they would see people and they'd say, oh, remember when blah blah blah.
And, they even talked about, pre-evacuation. Do you remember when this family or that family needed different things that. So, I think I just hope the pilgrimages start again.
Robyn Achilles: Yeah, I do too.
Karen Hirai Olen: Because, the Sansei and the Yonsei and the Gosei really need to be involved in that in, a group kind of way. And, Doctor Nakata talks about the waterfall effect of the shame. The silence, I'm still trying to piece together my parents journey after they left Minidoka. Because they still wouldn't talk about, mom called it the lost years, and so.
But I think that I hope that these Yonsei. And the Gosei, they get to experience a pilgrimage.
Robyn Achilles: And to.
Karen Hirai Olen: Create, get a perspective about what their families went through. Collectively and then individually and as families.
Robyn Achilles: Thank you Karen. So my very last closing question for all of you is this series with the Idaho Humanities Council is funded by, National Endowment for the Humanities program, a more perfect union. As we pursue this more perfect union for our country, what do you hope people will take away from our discussion today? Wendy, would you like to start?
Wendy Tokuda: Well, I mean, my great, great hope is that, we can become, I know our stories and our history can become a part, an accepted part of the greater history of this country. Because right now, of course, it's a very strange time in American history. And there's such division and, you know, books about the internment, one book has been banned.
And, You know, any, any talk of things that happened, people are going to creates more division. You know, I you're saying these things to make us feel guilty that, you know, make us feel guilty and I, I just think it's so important to know not just what happened, but the lasting effects. Effects of something like this happening to anyone, to anyone.
These stories, you know, I want them to be woven into the great American history.
Robyn Achilles: Stephen share some of your thoughts.
Stephen Kitajo: I think, people, to take away a greater understanding of intergenerational trauma and the lasting effects that, you know, these actions can have is important because this this intergenerational trauma can happen and has happened to so many people, because of various injustices. And that that is something that we can unite around is a desire to, you know.
Our quest for justice and wanting to ensure that this trauma is not inflicted on anyone else. I don't know how anyone can say that they would not be in favor of that. And working towards, you know, making sure that the lessons from our history continue to be learned, so that we remember what we need to do to avoid this in the future and to work towards a better future for everyone.
Robyn Achilles: Stephen. Paul?
Paul Tomita: Okay. My statement is that, my hope, of course, for America. Is that what happened to us 80 years ago never happens again. And one way that we can work toward that goal is, you know, we Japanese Americans and, you know, the aliens and all of our grandmas and grandpas, went through hell. Okay. And, we are in the ideal position to speak up and and say, hey, America particularly,
I'm talking to white America. Hey, America, you know, you did this to us. You know, the few of us are still alive to say it, but also we also have to step forward. You know, I don't care to what level it is, but we descendants, survivors, whoever it is, we have to step forward and remind white America, you know, don't ever do that again to anybody.
You know, they're not going to do it to us, you know, again. But they are you know, we have people here in America who have no problems doing it to the latest group. You know, be they Muslims, be they, you know, African Americans, be they Native Americans, be they whatever, you know, you know, and we have to step forward and say, you know, we went through this hell and it ain't pretty.
And it is not American, okay? It is not democratic. And, we have we are in the best position to step forward and say we experienced it. It was crappy. It was hell.
Robyn Achilles: Karen?
Karen Hirai Olen: I think that the message that I would like to see as a result of this is that for the JA community. I think that we've been traumatized with the concept that being JA is a bad thing, to shape the silence from our, our parents and so forth. And I would like to see.
I think it's a message, but it's also a value that we as JAs need to incorporate into our ethic, is that one we need to learn there's nothing wrong with us. We, you know, either in any way and two, there is a positive. Very enhancing value to perpetuating our cultural systems that we grew up with. And I think that the next generations I would like to see incorporate it. You know, we did nothing wrong.
We were victims. But I think also we need to step, learn to step away from the victim mode and see that we prevail in terms of our values and what we see is right. I don't know how we're going to get there, but,
Robyn Achilles: Mary?
Mary Abo: Well, I, I see, the future being very different than how we've experienced it. I think that JA identity will start to fade because our children are marrying, you know, intermarrying. It's going to be elusive. But I think the essence of our experience is to learn and be empathetic for all people. Well, we have to have we have to we have to glean what's good from our experience and the strength that we've got from it.
But I think for sure that JA identity will be elusive. I think it's important that we learn to ally with other groups and be an ally. For instance, Minidoka's objection to that 400 giant wind farms. It's not just the JA's, but, as Robyn knows, we have environmental conservation. And that conservationists, politicians, ranchers, farmers joining with the Japanese Americans who want to preserve Minidoka.
So I believe there's going to be big changes. And, we have a lot to contribute from our experiences.
Robyn Achilles: Thank you so much, everyone, for, sharing your stories and your family's experiences with us today. I deeply appreciate your time. Today, we, also hope the viewers of this series will come visit Minidoka National Historic Site in Jerome, Idaho. The visitor center is open for the season and tours with the park rangers are available through Labor Day weekend.
To learn more, you can visit the website for Minidoka National Historic Site. And we also want to extend a last thank you to the Idaho Humanities Council for including Friends of Minidoka and Minidoka National Historic Site in the Connected Conversations program. We deeply appreciate their partnership and support in telling the lessons and legacy of Minidoka.