A Venture in to Japanese American History

Thank you to Bob Fukushima for sharing this family history with us.

My father at my grandfather's nursery prior to Internment

 

From Robert Fukushima

I write this in response to a recent inquiry from a friend about how my dad was received when he returned from internment during World War 2. And how this ties into the Richmond High School reunion photo someone recently posted on social media, is an indeed interesting story. But first, that suit.

 

As a young boy, my dad always wore a dark blue suit, white shirt, and an assortment of brightly colored ties, because when you marry a fine artist, on Father’s Day, you’re gonna get an interesting tie. He would always tell me that “a man doesn’t need much more than one, well made, dark blue suit.” Clearly, that’s not a dark blue suit. This photo was taken a couple years after my parents separated, but, when the reunion came up, dad had asked mom what she thought of wearing his blue suit. Sensing her chance, she convinced him to try something else. And thus, the warm gray suit, with a subtle check, and a nice sheen was procured. As they say, for a guy who spent all day wearing khakis, frayed by rose thorns, he cleaned up well.

 

This reunion, his Thirtieth, would also be the first reunion he would attend. Hence, he bought the new suit. Even though, back then, very few people moved very far from Richmond, dad wanted to look his best, he wanted to look successful to his peers.

 

My dad never graduated high school.

 

My dad was amongst the Americans who were relocated because of their Japanese ancestry, and in his case, it was five months before graduation. Because of his age, and limited class resources, he was not permitted to attend classes in the assembly center or prison camp during the war. After the war, he sought to attend and finish in Richmond. But, the high school would not allow him to return. Classified as a drop-out who voluntarily left school, he was offered no options.

 

However, dad was an easy going guy, and as a high school student, he made friends easily, he was good looking, and he loved mischief. He was popular enough, if not fully welcomed by some. The late 1930’s and early 1940’s were still a time when many Americans disliked, if not outright hated, the Chinese, and thus, the Japanese, Richmond was no different. You had to know your place. None the less, his classmates had liked him.

 

Every reunion, dad got invited, and he found reasons not to go, but, primarily, he felt he didn’t belong as he hadn’t graduated. This year, the men on the committee made a special effort to reach out to him. I remember this because he came and talked with mom, who encouraged him to go. That he deserved to go, that he had done the work. And he did have a good time despite being the stag attendee.

 

Worth noting, however, is the absence of my Uncle Henry Kawai, and my dad’s childhood best friend Tom Oishi. Both of whom would opt to never attend a reunion. Henry tried for many years to get his status changed to graduate. He had finished the class work in Idaho, but, Richmond refused to honor it.

 

Richmond was a small town prior to WW2, so acceptance back was more personal, so acceptance was high. He carried emotional scars, and many people couldn’t separate his ancestry from who he was. Racism and hostility existed, even in my childhood and youth, many people cannot see the difference between looking Japanese and being Japanese. Many of the Americans of Japanese Descent, including my parents, returned from the war relocation determined to prove their loyalty and ‘American-ness’. Hence, no more Japanese first names, attending Christian church, Japanese food became a special occasion, and a whole host of other daily changes.

 

Obviously, there’s much more. Books worth. A museums worth.