Topic: Making Changes
When teenagers even were given the privilege of occasionally visiting another internment camp, the "imprisoned" Japanese youth of the 1940's sometimes felt uncomfortable. Their worlds, built in just those three short years before they were allowed to begin returning to what was left for them on the West Coast, had given them the greatest sense of security.
Captivity was familiar, in a way that it was for the captives in Egypt long ago, when they were suddenly allowed to go free--even if it was into the desert--to begin a new life.
Like the children of Israel, the 19th century Japanese captives had little in their possession. And little to return home to. That was life for them in the "land of the free."
It reminds me of what is psychologically ripped from the hearts and minds of most survivors who have experienced "imprisonment" without an acknowledgement of this, from the community of faith.
The Japanese were essentially told that they were "welcome" to go back to their old homes. The fact so often ignored by others was that they had no status, no businesses, no property. It had all been stolen. They could not go back and be the people they once were.
They were even afraid for their physical safety, and they certainly couldn't blend in, due to their stark appearance. Their fears were not paranoia. There was plenty of prejudice. It had grown immensely in a world where everyone had experienced some degree of trauma. They all had burrs up, even the people of highest character. For that's what trauma does to all of us, if left unresolved, without having a very clear picture of what is real and what is likely to be lurking nearby.
When I think of what these people endured and how they managed to go on, I am in awe. What an inspiration! How did they even consider being kind to others who had not experienced what they had? How is it that most of them went on to push for American citizenship? Who would want to be a part of a land after such personal atrocities had been dished out? I wonder what kept them from saying: "America! It needs to just be destroyed! It's just full of a bunch of hypocrits that we can never trust!"
The next generation got a little bit of financial compensation, provided they'd lived long enough. It didn't come until 1988, though, when "each surviving internee" was granted $20,000 and provided a national apology for a "grave injustice."
Oh, that we recognize within ourselves the capacity we have for destroying others! Oh, that we recognize our capacity to overcome the destruction that others have put upon us, unknowingly or not!
