Here's Where It Gets Interesting - Resilience: The Patriotic Lives of the Issei and Nisei

Episode Date: September 28, 2022

Today we continue our exploration of the incarceration of Japanese Americans during World War II. Let’s learn about what life was like for the Japanese immigrants who settled along the West Coast–how they assimilated into American culture, raised their families, and flourished, despite the barriers of restrictive laws and policies and the open hostility from Japanese exclusionists. Passages read by Kimi Cunningham Grant from her memoir, Silver Like Dust. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Music Hello friends, welcome. Welcome to another episode of Resilience, as we continue our exploration of the incarceration of Japanese Americans during World War II. In our last episode, we talked with Dr. Ellen Wu to learn a bit of background on Asian immigration and anti-Asian policies in the early part of the 20th century. Today, we're going to focus on what life was like for the Japanese immigrants who settled along the West Coast, how they assimilated into American culture, raised their families, and flourished despite the barriers of restrictive laws and policies and the open hostilities from Japanese exclusionists.

I'm Sharon McMahon, and here's where it gets interesting. In 1897, San Francisco elected a new Democratic mayor, James D. Phelan. His father was an Irish immigrant who came to the United States and lived the American dream. He got rich during California's gold rush years, not by mining gold, but by supplying miners with tools and other necessities of the trade. From there, James Phelan's father prospered greatly by branching out into real estate and banking, and at the time of his death, he had become the richest man in California. James, a first-generation American citizen, inherited his father's vast fortune, putting it to use to run successful political campaigns, first as the mayor of San Francisco and then as a U.S. senator. And although Phelan was regarded during his public career as a supporter of the arts, and he spoke of the virtues of an honest, open government, he also made anti-Japanese sentiment a defining aspect of his political platform, perhaps not quite making the connection from his own family's immigration

history to the lives of the Japanese that he sought to bar from the very same opportunity and advancement. In a 1907 interview with the Boston Globe, James Phelan said of the Japanese, they must be excluded because they are non-assimilable, meaning they can't assimilate. They're a permanently foreign element. They do not bring up families. They do not support churches, schools, nor theaters. In time of trial, they will not fight for Uncle Sam, but betray him to the enemy. But James's fear-mongering words couldn't have been further from the truth. Japanese immigrants were prospering. By 1920, Japanese immigrant farmers controlled almost half a million acres of land in California, and they took to market more than 10% of its crop revenue.

When the Japanese immigrated, they brought with them advanced farming techniques, and they were successful in cultivating land. Japanese agriculture historian Masakazu Iwata wrote, they pioneered the rice industry, and they planted the first citrus orchards. They played a vital part in establishing the present system of marketing fruits and vegetables and dominated in the field of commercial truck crops. From the perspective of history, it's evident that the contributions of the Issei were undeniably a significant factor in making California one of the greatest farming states in the nation. But legal barriers led Japanese immigrant farmers to find creative ways to circumnavigate the law in order to continue to thrive. In 1914, the California legislature passed the Alien Land Law,

which barred all non-citizens from owning land in California, even land they had purchased years before and already owned. Soon after, several neighboring states along the West Coast followed suit and passed similar laws. Japanese landowners began to register their property in the names of European Americans, or even in the names of their own young children, names of European Americans, or even in the names of their own young children, Nisei, who had been born in the United States. Anti-Japanese groups that wanted to remove the Japanese from the West Coast region were often aligned with other powerful economic organizations, like the American Federation of Labor, who were resentful of the agricultural successes of Japanese farmers. The head of the AFL, Samuel Gompers, barred all Asian immigrants from membership.

Gompers, like most labor leaders, was strongly opposed to unrestricted immigration because he thought it would lower the wages of domestic union workers. The popularity of West Coast anti-Japanese interest groups continued to grow. Many West Coast Americans already feeling distrust and resentment towards Japanese immigrants who viewed them as economic competition were all too willing to believe the idea that Ise harbored evil designs against their American neighbors. With its members threatened by Japanese immigrant farmers, the California State Grange, a membership-based organization that supported agricultural communities in the state of

California, joined forces with similar groups like the American Legion and the California State Federation of Labor and the Native Sons of the Golden West to lobby for a state legislature that would hinder both Japanese immigration and their access to American prosperity. James Phelan ran for re-election to the Senate in 1920 with the campaign slogan, Keep California White. slogan, Keep California White. After he lost his Republican opponent, he began collaborating with the fellow anti-Japanese agitator, and together they spearheaded the Japanese Exclusion League of California, a lobby group that heavily influenced the 1924 Immigration Act, which, as we know, completely barred further Japanese settlement in the United States. Even as their rights were stripped from them, the Issei began to think of themselves as Americans,

and often with pride. One Issei said, we cannot be Americans legally, but we are 100% American at heart in every way. Issei, who again, were Japanese immigrants to the United States and their offspring who were born in the United States were US citizens. That generation was referred to as Nisei. Many Issei, understanding that they needed to combat the negative stereotypes that perpetrated anti-Japanese sentiment in their neighbors, began to establish Japanese associations, which were small local committees run by a group of Japanese immigrants. The group's goals were to collectively manage the area's image in order to promote themselves in the best light possible. These associations also worked to educate Japanese people in American customs

so they would come across as more American, more assimilated into their communities. Nevertheless, the Issei continued to be associated with derogatory stereotypes of Asian immigrants. Many of their white neighbors saw the Issei, and most Asian immigrants, frankly, as prostitutes, gamblers, and as quoted in the newspaper, the Japanese American Courier, backwards, ignorant, people who prowl about with only shabby clothes and straw sandals. all about with only shabby clothes and straw sandals. So in 1929, these smaller regional Japanese-American groups combined to form a national organization called the Japanese-American Citizens League, or JACL, in order to continue to foster good citizenship and civic participation on a more unified, larger scale.

There was power in numbers. They hoped. and protect the environment. Toronto's Blue Bin Recycling Program ensures the majority of the right items are recovered and transformed into new products. Recycling right is important and impactful. Let's work together and make a difference, because small actions lead to big change. For more tips on recycling, visit toronto.ca slash recycle right. I'm Jenna Fisher. And I'm Angela Kinsey. We are best friends, and together we have the podcast Office Ladies, where we rewatched every single episode of The Office with insane behind the scenes stories, hilarious guests and lots of laughs.

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bonus tidbits before every episode. Well, we can't wait to see you there. Follow and listen to Office Ladies on the free Odyssey app and wherever you get your podcasts. Membership of the JACL was made up of mostly Nisei professionals and small business owners, and because the organization sought to promote themselves as loyal to the United States, they excluded a hyphen in between Japanese and American in order to emphasize that the group and its members were fully American. group and its members were fully American. Thanks to the influence of a man named James Sakamoto, the JACL chose to hold its first national conference in Seattle in 1930, and they began to work on expanding the citizenship rights of Japanese and Asian Americans. They set their sights on the Cable Act of 1922, which revoked the citizenship of women who married men who were ineligible for citizenship, mostly Asian immigrants.

Their first lobbying campaign was a success, and Congress amended the act in 1931. James Sakamoto, who was called Jimmy, was a Nisei born in Seattle in 1903. By high school, despite his small frame, he excelled in sports and led his public high school football team to numerous victories. He was an outgoing teen and a natural athlete. In 1920, when Jimmy was 17, the U.S. House of Representatives formed a Committee on Immigration and Naturalization. Its purpose was to revise immigration legislation based off an evaluation of Asian immigrants in California, Oregon, and Washington. The committee visited Seattle at the end of July of 1920 and conducted interviews with various Japanese Americans in and around Seattle. Marie Sakamoto, Jimmy's older sister, volunteered to testify. Interested in the process, Jimmy joined Marie to watch the hearings. But when another American-born Japanese

man scheduled to testify didn't turn up, Jimmy, as a male member of the Nisei generation, was the only one in the room who could satisfy the committee's remaining requirements for testimonies. Even though Jimmy felt hesitant and unprepared, he agreed to step in and testify. When the committee members asked him about his schooling, Jimmy told them that while he was taught education in both American and Japanese settings, he preferred his American education. The committee pressed him, asking why he had not worked harder to become familiar with the Japanese language and history. And Jimmy made a joke saying, well, we go to an American school five hours a day and we attend the Japanese school for two hours. That is over work. Two hours, you see, and we don't get paid for overtime. He won over the committee members with his

pro-American answers. By the end of his testimony, they felt he had proved himself to be a patriotic Nisei. After graduation, Jimmy moved to New York using his wit and athleticism to make a career for himself, both in newspaper journalism by day and boxing by night. He eventually became the first Japanese-American to fight professionally in Madison Square Garden. But his years in New York ended abruptly in 1927. His young wife passed away, and the eye injuries he suffered in the boxing ring all but ended his career. He returned to Seattle in 1927 and lost his sight completely shortly afterward. But Jimmy was tenacious.

In 1928, he remarried, and together with his wife, he founded Seattle's Japanese American Courier, which was the first Japanese American newspaper to be published entirely in English. The Courier promoted and helped to organize Nisei sporting events, publicizing, encouraging Nisei to join community events and social groups. But Jimmy and the Courier adopted the idea that the Nisei could help bridge the divide between the cultures of Japan and the United States, and that they were the ideal people to educate fellow Americans about Japan and provide model citizenship. After Jimmy helped establish the JACL, he served as the league's national president during the 1930s. He also took over the new organization's newspaper,

growing its readership alongside his own paper, The Career. By the 1940s, most Nisei had grown up learning both Japanese and English, which made it easier for them to assimilate into American culture. Like many first-generation Americans with immigrant parents, Nisei were taught customs of both cultures in art, music, popular culture, fashion, and etiquette. They were a generation who preserved the culture their parents grew up with in Japan, and as young people, helped shape and influence American culture. The Issei had raised their children to value education, and many excelled in school, both boys and girls. They began graduating from high school at the top of their classes and advancing to college programs and promising careers. A government

report stated, coming mainly from the poorer classes of Japan, these people have started at the very bottom of the American economic ladder. And many, by years of hard work and frugal living, have acquired a stake in the land, an equity in the wholesale or retail marketing of agricultural products, or a small business in one of the larger West Coast cities. A few have risen to positions of prominence and wealth. Nisei judge John F. Iso was born in the Los Angeles suburb of Burbank in 1909. He was an exceptional student, but like many Japanese Americans, he also had regular encounters with racial prejudice. Later in life, he recalled that one of his earliest memories was being called a Jap by an elderly woman on a streetcar. He used these prejudice-filled encounters to fuel his efforts in

school and worked diligently to prove that he was a smart and valuable student. By 1922, Iso was elected as the student body president of his junior high school. But angry parents did not like that a Japanese-American was holding the position, and they put pressure on administrators to suspend the entire student government program until Iso left the school. government program until Iso left the school. When John Iso was a senior at Hollywood High School, he drew national attention after he finished first in the Los Angeles American Legion oratorical competition about the U.S. Constitution. But outside pressure forced him to withdraw from the national finals. Instead, his coaches asked him to prep and train his younger high school colleague who came in second to travel to the finals in Washington, D.C. in his place. The Los Angeles Japanese newspaper reported,

John Iso gives up participating in the speech contest. Son of our countryman is cursed by detestable racial discrimination. How sad that this occurs even in the educational world. After Iso graduated from Hollywood High School as the valedictorian, he traveled to Japan to study before returning to the United States to attend Brown University. While there, he captained the debate team and majored in economics, again graduating as the class valedictorian in 1931. He went on to get his law degree from Harvard. When author Kimi Cunningham Grant was in college, she grew curious about her own family's history.

It was rarely spoken about by her Japanese-American mother during her childhood. So Kimi began to have a series of conversations with her grandmother, who was a Nisei. And like Judge John Iso, she was raised in Los Angeles before the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Here's Kimi. Hi, my name is Kimi Cunningham Grant, and I'm the author of the book Silver Lake Dust. When I first started thinking about what would eventually become Silver Lake Dust, I didn't think about writing a book. I was just a young person who wanted to know more about her family's history, a history that they had, for the most part, decided not to talk about. history, a history that they had, for the most part, decided not to talk about. I began asking questions, and from there I started gathering books and other resources and digging deeper into the larger story of the Japanese Americans. It wasn't until several years

into this pursuit that I decided I wanted other people to know about this story too, and at that point I realized maybe I could write a book. In Silver Like Dust, Kimi's grandmother shares memories about her childhood in Los Angeles in the 1930s. Obachan folds her hands and places them in her lap. We certainly had our separate spaces, she says quietly. At the movie theaters, there were two levels, the first floor and a balcony. Mama used to take us to matinees before she got sick. I don't know if it was a law or if the studios just had a policy, but I know that I was always seated in the balcony with the blacks and the Mexicans and the other Japanese and Chinese, and that I never once sat on the first floor.

Only the hakujin sat down there. There were similar rules with other public areas. The roller skating rink was only open to Japanese on Sunday nights. They could not go any other day of the week. They were only permitted to use public tennis courts on Sunday as well, and they were not allowed to swim in public pools. I remember that the Raffu Shimpo, the Japanese newspaper in LA, would have a large sports section on Mondays, Obachin says. Only one day of the week because all the Japanese sporting events were held on Sundays. It was the only day we were allowed to use public areas for things like tennis. She pauses, frowning, tapping her index finger on the wooden bench. And we mostly shopped in little Tokyo or at very large department stores.

We didn't go in the Hakujin stores. As I listen to my grandmother talk, I cannot help noticing the contradiction, the odd and complicated problem of what preceded what. Japanese immigrants were not legally allowed to become citizens. They were not hired by white employers. They were not permitted to integrate into social spheres. And yet they were criticized by the public and the media for just that, for not fitting in, for keeping to themselves, for not being bona fide citizens, for not being American. Although anti-Japanese propaganda posters, cartoons, and newspaper ads would be printed

en masse across the country after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, many were regularly degrading and devaluing Japanese Americans on the West Coast in the 1930s. Japanese communities in Los Angeles were forced to live and work under an ever-spreading series of billboards that read, Japs Keep Out. They were continuously thought of as foreigners, as outsiders, as people who were not welcome to assimilate into the U.S. Many Nisei felt that total assimilation to American ideals was necessary in order to earn equality in the eyes of white Americans, and they encouraged their fellow Japanese Americans to behave like model citizens. Thomas Masuda, who wrote for The Courier, published a piece that said,

if a Japanese should do something either good or bad, he would be singled out by his fellow countrymen merely as an individual. But by people of other nations, he would be singled out as representing the Japanese. To be more specific, let us assume that a certain Japanese is a very disagreeable fellow. A Japanese would say what a disagreeable fellow he is, but an individual of another nation would say what a disagreeable people the Japanese are. This is but a single illustration of the importance of individual conduct, he said. Former San Francisco Mayor James Phelan stayed outspoken about his anti-Japanese views for the rest of his life, even though he didn't live to see the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in December of 1941. He died at his country estate in 1930. After his death, that estate, called Villa Montalvo, was given to the people of Santa

Clara County as public grounds, and it's now the Montalvo Arts Center, with the mission to build bridges between people and cultures through art. Recognizing the history of the villa, the Arts Center actively affirms their identity as an anti-racist arts institution, and has showcased the art of many Japanese Americans on the villa's grounds since the 1950s. In May of 1941, the Japanese American Citizens League published a creed written by their first paid staff member, Mike Masaoka, who said of it, what I had in mind was a statement about what my country meant to me. And what I came up with in one furious writing session was a credo, a statement from the heart that told what Americanism meant to a Japanese American. Part of the creed states the following,

I'm proud that I'm an American citizen of Japanese ancestry, for my very background makes me appreciate more fully the wonderful advantages of this nation. I pledge myself to honor her at all times and in all places, to support her constitution, to obey her laws, to respect her flag, to defend her against all enemies, foreign and domestic, in the hope that I may become a better American in a greater America. By the end of the year, the nation would put the Japanese American community and this creed to the ultimate test. And in an upcoming episode, we'll find out what happens to John Iso. Thank you for joining me today. I can't wait to see you soon. Thank you so much for listening to Here's Where It Gets Interesting.

And I'm wondering if you could do me a quick favor. If you enjoyed this episode, would you consider leaving us a rating or review or sharing a link to it on your social media? All of those things help podcasters out so much. Here's Where It Gets Interesting is written and researched by executive producer Heather Jackson. Our audio engineer is Jenny Snyder, and it's hosted by me, Sharon McMahon. See you again soon. you