Order 9066

“How would you react to being told ‘oh, you have Japanese in you, so for your own protection we’re gonna take you out of where you’re living and put you in barracks with others like you so others won’t discriminate against you?’ You know, how would you feel about something like that?”

By Alexandra Mack, Online Editorial Assistant

The date was Feb. 19, 1942—a fateful day that would turn the lives of over 125,000 individuals upside down. In response to the bombing of Pearl Harbor, President Roosevelt issued Executive Order 9066, which ordered all individuals of Japanese ancestry, two-thirds of whom were American citizens, to relocate to internment camps within the U.S.

The attack on Pearl Harbor was a horrific event that is an atrocity to American history. The U.S.’ response to it, however, was a shameful transgression against civil rights that would impose enduring consequences on the lives of Japanese Americans. War-related paranoia and hysteria were already running rampant with persisting fears of Nazi invasion, and the aftermath of Pearl Harbor only heightened America’s frenzied state. The creeping suspicions of non-Japanese citizens combined with sensationalism in the media and led to anti-Japanese sentiments based off of stories lacking any factual basis. Espionage, sabotage and invasion of the mainland were now the predominant worries of Americans, specifically in the heavily Japanese-populated western U.S.

Thus, Executive Order 9066 was signed, which authorized the mandatory evacuation and relocation of all Japanese people, alien or citizen, as a matter of “military necessity,” (Burton et al., 1999). In only a matter of days, the Japanese people were being uprooted from their homes, some of whom had lived there their entire lives, and being sent off to isolated camps right within the United States. Two of these people were Hiroshi and Chiyo Shigihara: my great-grandparents.

“My grandfather had a little grocery store, well, he had to just sell that for very cheap because he was forced to because he couldn’t own a business,” said my grandma, whom I spoke to an over-the-phone interview where I asked her to recall memories from her childhood and things that were told to her. “What do you grab for? Jewelry? Clothing? Stuff you’re gonna need for the next few years.”

Many Japanese families were forced to sell their businesses, homes and other assets without knowing the status of them upon their return. From the time that the notices were posted in Japanese neighborhoods to the time they had to leave, many had no choice but to sell their belongings and assets at a fraction of their original price. The only belongings they were permitted to bring with them were those that they could carry, so they only packed clothing, small valuables and other essentials. (Ehrman & Thomas, n.d.).

“Aunty Aki and Uncle Stan were born in the camp. I think they only had one room. So my mom and my father and then the two kids, and my grandfather, all shared one room.”

Upon the issuing of the order, many of the camps were not yet ready for inhabitants, so people were temporarily placed in locations such as stables at local racetracks. Eventually, they were moved to one of ten camps, all in desolate areas of the western United States. Heart Mountain, Wyoming is where my great-grandparents were placed, where they were housed in barrack-like facilities that were built very quickly to accommodate the mass influx of people. Meals were eaten in communal mess halls, children attended school and adults had the option to work for a salary of less than $20 a month.

“Somebody made a quote...not my parents, but it was a quote: ‘well, why were the rifles pointed inwards toward the camps as opposed to out of the camps?’ If the camps were built to protect the Japanese, then why did the guards point their rifles into the camps? They were pointed into the camps to prevent any Japanese people from escaping.”

The U.S. government made claims that the camps served as a type of sanctuary to protect the Japanese. This was not the case, as there were guards with searchlights stationed in towers around the barriers of the campgrounds with their guns pointed inwards. Those in the camps would be followed by the guards at night if they had to leave their barracks to go to the bathroom.

“The government said it was for their protection...to protect the Japanese because there was so much bitterness against them after the Pearl Harbor attack. There was so much anti-Japanese sentiment...that’s why they were all gathered into camps, ‘to protect them’ from discrimination.”

Two-thirds of all the Japanese sent to the camps were American-born citizens. Some had further proven their loyalty by fighting for the U.S. in World War I. None of this mattered, as they were relocated there “for their protection.”

“After they got out of the camps, my aunt, Aunty Chizu, was living in Chicago. I guess my aunt didn’t go in the camps because she was already living in the Midwest and it was only the Japanese on the West Coast [that were relocated]. So my parents came to Chicago because they knew somebody that was living here.”

Upon their release in 1944-1945, the Japanese internees had to sign a loyalty oath and get sponsorships in order to leave the camps. The questions on the oath were “Would you swear unqualified allegiance to the United States?” and “Would you serve in the military of the United States?” Many refused to sign, appalled by the audacity of the government to ask such questions after they were forced out of their homes and stripped of their possessions and dignity.

“No one would rent to them because they were Japanese. They had a very hard time finding somebody to rent to them. They finally found an old tenement apartment with two rooms. Not two bedrooms, two rooms total. A kitchen and a living room/dining room/bedroom. A lot of the rooms in the building were SROs, single room occupancy, a term that was popular in the slums at the time.”

Many of the Japanese interned in the camps, specifically those who were younger, decided to move away from the West Coast, choosing instead to seek jobs or pursue further education in either the Midwest or on the East Coast. Some of the older adults chose to stay, as they had already lost everything and saw no point in trying to build up their assets again. Each internee was given $25 and a train ticket to a location of their choice, many of whom had to settle in an urban area despite having worked on a farm prior to incarceration due to restrictive alien land laws.

“We grew up in poverty, but we didn’t know it. My mom made all our clothes. We had two pairs of shoes: gym shoes and school shoes. You know, they came here with nothing—nada. Can you imagine moving someplace with no assets? They didn’t have any assets. Nothing. It would be hard for you to understand.”

At first, thousands of Japanese people had nowhere to live, with no choice but to stay in hostels or makeshift trailer parks in airfields. Anti-Japanese prejudice still lingered, and many private-sector businesses refused to hire people of Japanese ancestry. The families that returned to their original locations after the war were shut out from the industries where they had made their livelihoods, and “the community didn’t fully recover financially from incarceration until the early 1960s, missing out on 15 years of American postwar prosperity,” (Pearson, 2020).

“My mom didn’t talk about the camps. She didn’t really say anything about it. And my dad was quiet, as well. Neither of my parents talked about it, they just dealt with it. They weren’t scarred like some other people, because they didn’t really have much to begin with. My mom never complained about it. Her younger brothers never really talked about it either. Your great-grandparents were not bitter after they came out. They were stoic, and they made the best of the situation that they could.”

The mindset that is described here is one that many Nisei, or the American-born children of Japanese immigrants, such as my great-grandparents, shared. To deal with returning to life after incarceration, many in the Nisei generation “embraced traditional values that encouraged them to put the past behind them; for example, gaman means ‘to endure or persevere with dignity,’ and shikataganai translates to ‘it can’t be undone’ or ‘it can’t be helped,’” (Rosario, 2020). To cope with three years of imprisonment, many of these individuals chose to exhibit traditional Zen Buddhism philosophy by suppressing their grievances in favor of moving past this shameful patch of American history onto the next chapter of their lives.

Sources:

Burton, J., Farrell, M., Lord, F., Lord, R. (1999). Confinement and Ethnicity: An Overview of World War II Japanese American Relocation Sites. National Park Service.