At the meetings, he was alway attentive but very quiet. I also was quiet, taking notes and observing, but not really understanding what the board was discussing. I didn't speak up because I didn't know anything, but I felt that he didn't talk because no one gave him any assignments or asked his opinion. I knew, however, that as an American of Japanese descent, he did have something to say. He must have had a story. One day, coming home from our meeting, I encountered him on the bus. We had a little conversation and he told me he wrote poetry and a little about his life. I was intrigued, but I didn't see him again.
Then, the October bulletin came out, and I learned that our very own Hiroshi---poet, playwrite, author, and a resident of this "sanddunes" neighborhood--was going to be giving the talk at the last meeting of the month. I definitely wanted to be there.
When he got up to speak, he came alive, standing tall and smiling, His wife sat in the audience smiling proudly. He spoke hesitantly but articulately of his childhood and his three--year experience in a "Japanese Internment camp" in Tule Lake in Northern California. While he spoke I felt a surge of emotion welling up inside of me. It was another of the many injustices I've been learning about that occurred in the 20th century. Only this injustice of removing all the Japanese Americans was done by our country.
I only gradually learned about our treatment of the Japanese during WW II during a time of "racial prejudice, war hysteria, and a failure of political leadership." (Hiroshi's words.) I was born two weeks after the bombing of Pearl Harbor and my mother often talked about having to fix my "formula" in the dark during the sirens and blackouts that happened in the middle of the night. As the weeks rolled on, there were photos of us in our sunny backyard having a party. One of the guests wore a sailor uniform. Later when I was a little older and playing in the street, we pretended we were bombing "Japs." I had no idea what a "Jap" was, but there must have been a lot of biased remarks from adults for us to be talking this way. Much later as an adult, I learned of the "camps" when in August 10, 1988, the U.S. government apologized for the earlier treatment of American Japanese and awarded each survivor with $20,000.
As Hiroshi was reading from his book of poetry "Ocean Beach" I was touched by his earthy tone. They were of every day experiences that made me chuckle a bit, thinking of similar situations in my children's or my life. He also wrote passages about his days at Tule Lake which painted a personal, human picture of the people's spirit. At the end he told us that he really "appreciates the freedom of movement, the freedom of thought and the freedom of choice."
I was glad to hear him speak so eloquently of a time that should never be forgotten in our history. During the dark times of World War II and all the injustices to so many millions of people, we should never forget that our country was not without sin.
(I didn't do complete justice in this blog post, because it was very difficult for me to express my feelings, but I tried. Thank you for your understanding.)
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