Densho Digital Repository - Kenji Ima Interview

Densho Digital Repository
Densho Visual History Collection
Title: Kenji Ima Interview
Narrator: Kenji Ima
Interviewer: Virginia Yamada
Location: Seattle, Washington
Date: March 22, 2022
Densho ID: ddr-densho-1000-495

<Begin Segment 1>

VY: Okay. Today is Tuesday, March 22, 2022, and we're here in the Densho studio in Seattle, Washington, and we're here with Kenji Ima. Dana Hoshide is our videographer, and my name is Virginia Yamada. So, first of all, Kenji, thank you for joining us here today. Let's get started by having you tell us when and where you were born.

KI: I was born in Seattle, July 15, 1937.

VY: And what was the name that you were given at birth?

KI: Kenji.

VY: And what was your last name?

KI: Imayanagita.

VY: And your name is different now. Did you officially change your name?

KI: My parents officially changed the name, I believe, around 1947, after the war.

VY: Do you know why they did that?

KI: Well, because the name was so long and people had difficulty with the name, they shortened it.

VY: So they legally shortened it.

KI: Yes.

VY: And how do you identify generationally?

KI: Well, I guess I'm Nisei, but I'm really in between. My mother was born here, my father was born in Japan.

VY: Okay. And in just a moment, we're going to talk about your parents. Before we do that, tell me just really briefly about your current family.

KI: Well, I'm widowed, and I have two adult children, Kim and Matt. And that's my, if you will, family. Of course, I have cousins and other relatives.

VY: Okay. We'll talk more about that later, too. So before we talk about your childhood, let's talk about your parents and their story, and what you know of your grandparents also. So first of all, where was your father born?

KI: My father was born in 1901, and my mother was born in 1913, twelve years' difference.

VY: And where were each of them born?

KI: My father was born in southern Japan, in Kyushu, and my mother was born, I believe in Bainbridge Island.

VY: And where were your mother's parents from?

KI: Well, my mother's parents on the father's side, he was from Kumamoto, but that's about all I know. I have no idea about his background, but I presume he'd come from a modest farming family. And my grandmother I knew until she died, I knew her all my life. Was born in Kumamoto province to a landowning family. And apparently they were ex-samurai, because my uncle mentioned that when he visited Japan, in the attic there were swords and armor. And obviously they owned the land, and so they were ex-samurai but still privileged. My grandmother's father was a doctor. So they were, my grandmother's family were, if you will, well-off, and so there was probably a significant class difference between my grandfather and grandmother. And to explain why they would marry, in spite of the fact in Japan it would probably not have occurred, is that my grandfather came probably around 1900. I'm not sure exactly what his profession was at the time, but he probably worked in the sawmills. And at the time on Bainbridge, other Japanese decided to go into farming, and so did my grandfather. I do not know how he was able to obtain twenty acres of farmland on Bainbridge. But I do know that he hired a lawyer later, and when my uncle was born, his name was used as ownership because Japanese were prohibited from owning farmland. So there was a lot of, if you will, unknowns, manipulations to find a way to own land and farm it.

VY: And so when your grandmother came to the United States, what was she expecting, do you know?

KI: Her name was... let me think. I think it was Nakamoto or something like that. It was not a name that I heard a lot, but since my uncle had twenty acres, now, if you lived in Japan and you said you owned twenty acres, you must be a person of substance. So that became, if you will, the breaker of any barriers. And at the time, Japanese bachelors would come to the United States needing to find a wife would send a letter back to the village looking for a go-between to find a woman who would be willing to come to the United States. Now, my grandmother was approximately thirty when she came. I think that she came around 1910. I have papers on that someplace. But if you're thirty years old... let me see, she was, if you will, an old maid. And being an old maid meant that the barrier to marrying across class boundaries was less effective. [Laughs] At any rate, she came... but I'm sure she must have had some regrets because what twenty acres means in the U.S. versus Japan was poverty. They were very poor farmers and they had to work very hard. And so what she faced was a house that was unpainted, water from a well, probably kerosene lamps, and other Japanese who were in a similar situation of being, if you will, poor or modest. And so she came from a family of privilege into a marriage of poverty. I don't mean absolute poverty, but it was a struggle to get by.

VY: Do you know how long she was here before they, your grandparents had children?

KI: Well, I think it must have been two to three years. And my mother was born in 1913 and my uncle was born in 1915.

VY: And what was your mom's name and your uncle's name?

KI: My mother was called Mariko, and in the American context, Mary seemed to be the easiest translation. My uncle was named Tsutomu, and the easiest name they could pick was Tom.

<Begin Segment 2>

VY: Okay, so your grandparents have this farm and they have two young children. Tell me a little bit about the farm. What did they grow on the farm and who helped them work the farm?

KI: They grew strawberries, but my uncle told me they also raised their own food. Corn, tomatoes, beans, whatever. So for commercial purposes, they had strawberries. And on the island there were many Japanese farmers who raised strawberries, and eventually there was a strawberry jam factory or something, which was the organization that purchased their strawberries. Let's see... it was one that required a lot of labor, planting, weeding, and especially picking strawberries. And so one immigrant group that they hired were Filipino males to help with the farm. And the main labor supply were Native Americans who were called, if I recall, Siwash, but they were mainly Native Americans from Canada who came south during the picking season.

VY: Do you remember... well, you don't have any memories of that farm. You were too little.

KI: Well, I remember the farm because as a child, I loved riding in a pickup truck in the back. [Laughs]

VY: Let's see. So your grandparents had the farm and then what about your mom when she was growing up?

KI: Well, my mother was the firstborn. Unfortunately, she was a female and males were preferred. But she was bilingual, she could speak both Japanese and English well. And she went to a Japanese school where she learned elementary Japanese in terms of writing. I had books of her Japanese schooling, and they were in a simplified Japanese if I recalled. So she turned out to be intelligent. And of all things, when she was in high school, her major was English, which is extremely surprising given the fact that the Japanese spoke a form of English that seemed, let's say, uneducated. There was a Japanese-English, and we were really speaking well and knowing the language well was the difficulty. And I noticed that in terms of test scores, they did well in math but less well in English. And this persisted even into the Nisei generation. But my mother was well-educated, she read because she was an English major, and on top of that, she was a talented artist. So in high school in Bainbridge, if they had a play she would design the program. And what's interesting about her drawings is they were very up to date in terms of dress and haircut, and so she was really into, if you will, American style on top of her excellence in English, and she was generally a good student all around. And at the time she graduated from high school, she was a salutatorian. And from what I gather, there was a woman called Marion Marshall, a high school teacher in Bainbridge who, if you will, encouraged my mother to go to college. And there was talk that she could get a scholarship because of her excellence, and the college that was picked was Washington State. But it never came to fruition because, being a woman, her job was to get married and have children and contribute to the family. To afford to go to college would have been difficult for their family. And so even if a scholarship was provided, it was a hard row to hoe for the family to accept that a girl would spend all this time getting educated without a prospect of, if you will, economic return.

VY: So she did not pursue college?

KI: Oh, no. She received a letter from, if I recall, some representative of Washington, congratulating her on being an excellent student. And you would have thought that, from the present perspective, that women would have been encouraged to pursue education, but she was nineteen when she was married to my father. And she did not know my father, it was arranged by a go-between who was satisfied that there was a good match. My father was a hard worker, could bring home some wages, and in turn, help her younger brother go to college.

<Begin Segment 3>

VY: And did you tell me this already? Where was your father from?

KI: Well, my father is from Kagoshima, which is the most southern province aside from Okinawa on Kyushu. And although they were farmers, because they were right next to the ocean, they were also seagoing. And it was not uncommon for a Japanese man to be hired by a commercial ocean company. And given the fact that his older two brothers were also seamen and they came to Washington State, and just, if you will, walked off the boat without ever looking back, and in correspondence, they encouraged my father to come, and he was a seaman, walked off the ship. You know, in the parlance, they would have been considered "wetbacks," but literally they just walked off the boat illegal and never returned. This is the situation. If you have some relative who had been here before, you would go to them, they would put you up, support you, and find a job. And the job he had was in a restaurant. These relatively modest jobs were available, but any jobs of a more skilled or more upper income were simply unavailable. So the proposition of not making it meant that they had to go into other work where they could accumulate wealth. And one of the interesting things in Seattle was that low income hotels where migratory laborers would stay paid very little for lodging, were run by Japanese immigrants. In fact, before the war, there was an association of Japanese hotel and apartment owners numbering probably four hundred, which tells you that they found an economic niche where they could work without being, let's say, rejected. Because it was, if you will, work that others did not want because it was very exhausting and labor intensive, and it required hours of work. So my father eventually leased the Oregon Hotel, which was, I believe, on First Avenue, downtown Seattle. And my mother joined them and she would clean beds, sweep up, do whatever it is to keep the hotel clean. My father, if you will, did the plumbing, the electrical, whatever it was required to keep the place alive. And in addition, having a hotel meant you had a place to live. And so, even though they weren't, did not know each other, it was simply a practical matter of combining their labor to survive.

VY: So your father leased the Oregon Hotel and was, now, was this when your parents were married or before your parents were married?

KI: I'm not sure about the time of the lease and their marriage, but it was close. And my, his two brothers, my father's two brothers were also in the hotel business. One of them, Tohachi, I believe his name is, I called Cherry Ojisan, which meant that he was the "Man of Cherry Hotel." [Laughs] Which is on Cherry Street.

VY: That's interesting. So both your father and his brothers, did they each have their own hotel?

KI: Well, actually, the oldest brother, Ichisuke, I don't know how he did it, but he must have been skilled as a butcher. And they established, of all things, a grocery store on Capitol Hill.

VY: Do you know what it was called?

KI: I don't remember what the name was, but, from what I gather, they were relatively prosperous. But somehow they couldn't make it; the Depression was a very harsh master. And the reason why it seemed they were doing well was they had a large car like a Packard or something, and oh, they're doing well. But it was a tough time.

VY: Backing up just a little bit, how old was your dad when he came to America?

KI: Probably in his late teens.

VY: Late teens, okay.

<Begin Segment 4>

VY: Okay, so your parents are now leasing the Oregon Hotel.

KI: Yes.

VY: And this is still before the war.

KI: Yes.

VY: And what happens next?

KI: Well, this is the Depression and my mother is very clever. So when she was a bookkeeper, somehow they collected enough capital to buy the Reynolds Hotel which is on Fourth Avenue. So they moved from the Oregon Hotel to the Reynolds, and the Reynolds had approximately a hundred beds, so it was a substantial deal for them. How they were able to afford it is a mystery to me, but knowing them, they were able to gather enough capital to purchase the Reynolds Hotel. And the irony is I still own it with my cousins, and it still is a great source of income.

VY: Wow. So the Reynolds Hotel has been in your family for quite some time?

KI: Yeah. Well, now it's rented to Washington state as housing for ex-felons.

VY: That's so interesting.

KI: So I don't have to run the hotel, it runs by itself.

[Interruption]

VY: So we were talking about the hotel and the Reynolds Hotel. Do you have any memories of the hotel before the war?

KI: Yes. I remember one day I was running down the hill from the hotel, and by the water fountain, a man was drinking water, and I tripped over his foot. And as a consequence, I stumbled and had a big injury on my chin, and I had to go to the hospital up the hill. Now that I remember.

VY: How old were you?

KI: Hmm?

VY: How old were you?

KI: Oh gosh, I don't know, maybe three.

VY: Wow.

KI: Yeah. But only from pictures do I recall going to the Japanese Baptist nursery, this is before the war. And we were, my brother and I would wait in the back of the hotel where we lived, and a bus would come by and pick us up and take us to the nursery. [Laughs]

VY: Wow, so you remember that?

KI: Well, I have a faint memory of the nursery. Not a strong one, but otherwise, I don't remember much about the hotel before the war. Certain things I do remember like having a fried egg sandwich, for some reason that was stuck in my mind. You know how kids remember things, certain odd things? Well, falling down and having to go to the hospital was a big deal for me.

VY: Do you still like fried egg sandwiches?

KI: Hmm?

VY: Do you still like fried egg sandwiches?

KI: Oh, yeah. [Laughs] I ask for it every once in a while.

VY: Okay. So before we move on to talking about the war, is there anything you want to talk about, about your time in Seattle before the war?

KI: No, except to note that, as we sit here talking, it's been eighty years almost to the day we went to Puyallup from "Camp Harmony." After the war started, before that time, egg sandwiches have to do.

VY: Right.

<Begin Segment 5>

VY: Well, let's talk about that then. First of all, do you have any memory of the day that Japan attacked Pearl Harbor?

KI: No.

VY: Do you remember... did your parents ever talk about it or any of your aunts and uncles?

KI: I have no memory of that, no.

VY: Nobody really talked about it?

KI: No.

VY: Okay. And tell me a little bit about your brother. When was your brother born and how old were the two of you?

KI: My brother was born in 1935, so that means he was two years older than I am, and he was born in Seattle. And what else is kind of, well, interesting? He was given an English name, Paul, in addition to his Japanese name, which is Akira. And when it came to me, I wasn't given an English name, I was given the name Kenji, that was it. Now, I like to tease my parents to say they were just simply too tired to give me a name. [Laughs] I don't know why.

VY: Oh, before we move on to the war, really quick, did anybody live with you besides, was it just your parents and your brother?

KI: No, my grandmother came to live with us. In 1937, my grandfather died. And at that time, my uncle lived with them, so they could continue in farming. But my uncle went to college and eventually she couldn't handle the farm by herself. So it was leased to a Filipino worker who took over the farm, and in the meantime, my grandmother moved to Seattle and lived with us in the hotel, and she took care of me while my mother worked.

VY: Do you have any real early memories of your grandmother?

KI: Not really, except I had a picture of my grandmother at a Japanese bank. She was, wanted to take her money out of the Japanese bank because of the oncoming war, and I happened to be with her because she was taking care of me, but I don't remember being at the bank. But there is a picture, I'm standing behind her, and she is asking to remove her money from the bank.

VY: So she wanted to take her money out of the bank because she was worried.

KI: Yeah. Well, you know, like in the current situation, like in Russia where the ruble has fallen, people want to take their dollar denominated securities out of the bank, because the ruble is falling in value. And I'm sure because the war was happening, the Japanese money was less valuable. But that was... I remember because I saw this picture of myself and my grandmother at a bank.

VY: It's interesting how seeing images from the past kind of bring these memories back to us.

KI: Yeah. I don't remember their being there, but I saw the picture and so must have been there. But I don't have a lot of memories of my grandmother before the war. I have more memories of her after the war.

VY: Okay.

<Begin Segment 6>

VY: So what happened when you had to leave your home? Where did you go?

KI: Well, we went to Puyallup, which was called "Camp Harmony," as a temporary transitory camp before we would be sent to a permanent camp. And my memory, I do have a memory of it. Seattle was overcast and was dark, it seemed gloomy and rainy. And I was with my mother because I remember sitting on her lap. And people on the bus didn't say much that I recall. It was scary. I remember the emotions and it was, like, not good.

VY: Did you feel scared yourself, or did feel like your mom was scared?

KI: Well, my sense is that the event of being, if you will, deported from your home was a big deal emotionally. And my mother is, in a manner of speaking, was a high strung, very sensitive person. And she oftentimes would get very emotionally upset, and I can't help but guess that, at the time she was upset, there I am sitting in her lap, and she's not happy because she does not know what's going to happen. And so, if you will, her sense of fear must have affected me. Because it was a big... I mean, for my parents, it was a big deal. And as a child of four, it was an emotion event not one where you can recall details.

VY: It's more, sounds like it's more visceral, more memories, of feelings.

KI: Yeah. And I can't quite articulate it, but the sense of it gets lodged in memory as a bad dream.

VY: Do you want to talk about your dreams now, or do you want to wait until...

KI: Well, I don't know exactly when I first had the dream, but the fear that I felt occurs in this dream. And in the dream the setting is dark and I'm on this street with this large building. And an ominous sound in the background, some sort of drumming or humming, but it was the sound of fear. And standing on this street looking at this building, I didn't know... in my dream, I didn't know what was happening except that it was fearful. And in the dream, a woman appears, and I think it must be my mother, but it's just a woman no details, just a figure. And the woman, I believe, tries to calm me. And that's about the content of the dream, except that I would wake up sweating. And I remember that very distinctly, it was uncomfortable. But the same dream, the same scenario, occurred repeatedly. So I had this dream I don't know how many times, but I think I had this dream for years, maybe up to the age of ten or more. So I don't know when it began, but it's a dream that I do remember vividly. I remember sweating, waking up, and not knowing what to make of it. And being young, I didn't even ask my parents or tell my parents or brother anything about it, I just was there. And it wasn't something I was prepared to talk about, because I didn't have the vocabulary or a way of dealing with it except to experience the dream again.

VY: So as a child you never told anybody about the dream?

KI: No.

VY: And then you just, at some point, starting having them less and less and then you didn't have them anymore?

KI: Well, the way it happened was at a college reunion, I said I was happy to go on with life without nightmares. And people said, "Well, you were only four, you were too young. You couldn't have had that," and sort of, I doubted it. And this stimulated me to sit down and rethink, and I said, "Oh yes, I had that sweat dream repeatedly, that was what I must have been referring to.

VY: Oh, that's interesting. So later in life, you talked about it, your memories, but people said no, you were too young, that you couldn't have remembered that, so you started to think, "Oh, maybe I didn't remember that," but then you remembered these dreams.

KI: Yeah. It was one of those things that you talk about. There was no way of putting your finger on it. And when someone said, "You couldn't have had those, you couldn't have had those nightmares," it made me think, oh, I did. But I forgot that it was repeated over and over again. Because that dream persisted into the postwar years.

VY: Why do you think you had these dreams? Why do you think they kept coming back?

KI: Well, I don't know when it first started. And it must have ended when I was close to ten or maybe a little older. But then they disappeared, and so what is there to talk about? Because I come from a family where talking about fears and dreams is simply not, if you will, part of everyday talk. So it's a personal experience, not a collective one.

VY: Do you think when it comes to childhood memories and dreams, do you think that these things are exact memories of things that happened, or do you think they're more, kind of a combination of feelings and memories?

KI: I've read some stories about memory, and this occurs in lawsuits where people talk about what they remember. And the defense lawyers have to figure out how to counteract these statements. And one of the ploys is that memory is faulty, and that what you remember isn't exactly what happened, and it could be the exact opposite. And so, in a manner of speaking, testifying about a memory could be, in effect, lying. And you could see why defense attorneys would like that. Well, in my case of this thing, I remembered the dream; it was so vivid. And recently I was looking at pictures my mother saved when I was four, and in one of the pictures I saw this building. I said, "Gee, what was that same building I saw in my dream?" And so this isn't a hundred percent way of convincing myself, but finding the pictures I drew as a four-year-old seemed to correlate with the dream, and that gives me a greater sense of comfort in saying I had those dreams, I'm not lying.

VY: It's so interesting because at that age, memories of that time are sort of a kind mixture of feelings and dreams and things that really happened. And it's hard to know what actually happened and what you were dreaming about, which doesn't mean that it's not all real to you as the child because you're, as a child you're perceiving everything a certain way. But then, so you knew you had these feelings, these thoughts, these dreams, but you weren't, sounds like you're saying you weren't certain what was real and what wasn't. But then, later on, you find these pictures that you drew that you forgot all about, that you drew at the time that you were in camp, between the ages of four and seven. And these pictures seemed to validate what these memories were.

KI: Yeah. It isn't, if you will, a hundred percent sure, but it gives me a sense that I'm not lying about the dreams.

<Begin Segment 7>

KI: And what's more important, I think, is when you're a child and you have an experience that is disagreeable, the question is, how does it affect you, and is it important? Now, you could say, like I told my friends after camp, I said camp was fun, no big deal. And in part, it was to, if you will, minimize the significance of the camp to my white friends, because I didn't want them to think I came from a concentration camp or something. So talking about camp as fun... I did have fun because we played around, but that wasn't the entirety of the experience. And the hidden cost of camp is more than, when you're deprived of good food or something, it really is about, in my sense, the emotional cost of such an experience. Now, I recall seeing a film of Okinawa when, at the last stages of the defeat of Japan. And there was terrible shots. But the one shot that stands in my mind is a young child of about my age, dirty, but shaking, you know, fearful. And seeing that kid struck me, and I said, "Gee, that could be me." And in a sense, in retrospect, I'm reflecting on these experiences as something that made a mark on the way I am. You're not supposed to be, in the Japanese terms, you're supposed to be tough, and forget and move on to difficult things because you can't control them. But one wonders whether or not, by being tough, you're paying an emotional price.

VY: Do you feel like you did that? Do you feel like it was kind of expected to have suppressed those feelings, to kind of not think about it or not talk about it, kind of move on?

KI: Well, the way I was raised is you're supposed to be tough. And no matter how hard the situation is, you learn to treat it as just a reality to be, if you will, forgotten, and you just get over it, you know, shikata ga nai. Which is, there are some virtues to it, but I'm thinking for myself, if you deny the fear, if you deny the emotional costs, are you, in a way, undercutting yourself? Are you being less than whole, honest, if I can put it that way? And, you know, I wasn't raised to deal with these things. But, you know, be tough and put up with it, and, in effect, put it behind you. But, you know, every once in a while, when I see something like, about camp, I get a little emotional.

VY: Is that kind of a newer thing for you in your life, or did you always feel that way? When did you start thinking more about camp and how it affected you?

KI: I would say that the emotion was somehow embedded in my psyche, if you will. And how to deal with how to think about it is a matter of maturation, of reflection, of trying to look at it. And most of us are not good at that because it's oftentimes too embarrassing to deal with it. In the Japanese terms, it sort of makes you weak.

VY: It's sort of like you held onto these things and kind of tucked them away until you were ready to process them.

KI: Yeah. Well, maybe... you know, you try to get through life. Life could be very tough, and maybe shikata ga nai is not such a bad thing at all times, because it temporarily holds back, if you will, the feelings. But I think, in the long run, given my age, to deny a part of your life and experience, seems ill-advised. I mean, you want to deal with it, you want to, if you die, you want to remember not just the good things, but to settle scores that bothered you.

VY: Do you want to talk about the pros and cons, I guess, of having these things that were instilled in you about, kind of, trying to be tough? Like you were just saying, in some ways it's good to kind of not think about things for a while, but at the same time, it might have sort of a negative, it might create negative consequences for you.

KI: Well, let me put it this way. I've been educated enough and have friends who want to deal with these things. And the way a lot of people that I know have to deal with these fundamental fears is when you have marital troubles. And then you are forced, really, to think through. And the problem for thinking things through is to be able to imagine other points of view, even to think of yourself as weak, as part of you. And so when couples have to deal with each other, they have to reflect on their own sense. At the same time, imagine the sense of the other to help reflect on how better to get an understanding of what is it you're doing that may hurt another person. And honesty about self has been very difficult. Like I've been married over forty, fifty years, and it all hasn't been nice. And my wife died four years ago, and I sometimes regret not having more time to talk to her.

<Begin Segment 8>

VY: Maybe now is a good time to talk about your wife and how you met.

KI: Well, first of all, I was raised that you should marry another Japanese woman, or another Japanese person. But I went to college and I met my wife at the University of Oregon, and I'm, if you will, not the hippest person. You know, not the person who knows the great line about, "I love the way you look," or whatever it is that boys could hook into a woman, that wasn't me. And I had not developed that sensibility of stalking females, if you will. But we met and I liked her, she liked me, and the surprise of all things is she was Jewish. And I said, "Oh, what's a Jew?" [Laughs] And she says, "I can't tell you in one conversation. It's a whole lifetime of issues." I said, "Oh, that's interesting." Well, we became friends and I wrote to her, she wrote to me, and six years later, I wrote to her and says, "I like you." [Laughs] In a letter. And she says, "Oh, I wondered."

VY: Six years, that's a long time.

KI: Hmm?

VY: Six years is a long time.

KI: Well, I'm slow. I don't have the quick finger of, "Hey, kid, what a beaut you are." [Laughs] So she was the love of my life. And she was so endearing to me, and when I moved to California, we moved near her family. I really became involved in a Jewish-Jewish family. I don't mean religiously Jewish but I mean culturally Jewish. Where people use Yiddish phrases and talk about the goy. I said, "Gee, am I a goy?" "Oh, nah." [Laughs] At any rate, the point is, we had a relationship where it was a culture where people talk. I don't come from a family where people talk. If you talk, you sort of beat around the bush. You do everything indirectly, but to be just straightforward and just tell you how things are would not be the case. Well, I soon learned that you got to be pretty straightforward. I became Jewish in a manner of speaking. [Laughs]

VY: Was that a hard adjustment or was it a welcome adjustment?

KI: No, it was wonderful because it was a very welcoming family. And oh my goodness, all the positive emotions and relationships, it was like, if I could put this way, finding a basket of wonderful fruit. [Laughs]

VY: That's wonderful.

KI: Yeah, her family was great.

VY: Did your Japanese American side of the family ever get together with your new family?

KI: Kind of, in a way. But Seattle and California are separate places, and there are not a lot of occasions for making the plans, if I can put it that way. But I really loved her family, and they're still a part of my life. So I'm not being a traitor to Japanese people or anything, but it's an embracing of, if you will, joy, life. And part of it has to do with understanding your own emotions and fears. Because if you don't do that, then the troubles come back over and over. But then again, maybe I've been brainwashed into another world. [Laughs]

<Begin Segment 9>

VY: Well, it sounds like it almost took spending time in another culture with your new family. It took time kind of spending time with this new family to learn more about who you were and where you came from, and to understand that more.

KI: Well, I would say this. I grew up as a cultural stranger to the society I live in. And when you're a cultural stranger, you can't assume things that, if you will, the natives assume, because you don't know what will happen to you. And in a manner of speaking, the fear I had about the war and camps reinforced that you can't assume a lot, because it can be taken away from you suddenly, you don't know. So as a stranger, they were constantly looking and observing. And part of your job as a survivor, I figured, is, oh, let me understand the other person. And this is typical of people who are strangers. There were a lot of Americans, children of missionaries, of businesspeople who go overseas, and what the children experience are multiple cultures, people who speak multiple languages, and where you can't assume everything is settled and you have to, if you will, be flexible. And in response, you have to flexible to what you see rather than impose your cultural values on the others. Otherwise you're going to -- if I could put it this way -- get burned. [Laughs] It isn't that you don't have values, but you're always constantly sensing differences as a stranger to protect yourself, you need to be alert. And you just can't take for granted the world.

VY: It sounds like you feel like you always have to, or you felt like you always have to tread carefully and step back a little bit and observe.

KI: Yes. And I'm a sociologist and so I deal with people from different circumstances. And before judging and shaping what I presume should be the case, I oftentimes find myself exploring the different sensibilities, being more flexible without sticking my foot in my mouth, so to speak. And, well, marrying into a Jewish family and having relatives really enrich the cultivation of, if you will, the stranger perspective, because Jews are strangers no matter if they look white.

VY: That's interesting. So you felt there's almost this kinship in that feeling of being a stranger.

KI: Precisely. And it's one of the things that bonded me to Leslie is we immediately understood we couldn't make assumptions about the world. Her father told... or it was her grandfather. She was playing with a girl and the grandfather says, "Is she Jewish?" She said no, and his response is, "Be careful." Now he was an immigrant from Lithuania, and not taking for granted the world is what he was telling her. Because you never know whether the Jew card is going to be pulled on you.

VY: Did you feel that way yourself about being Japanese American?

KI: Yeah. And there was that similarity that we had that was part of our emotional connection, is this idea that, "Be careful, don't assume too much."

VY: Do you feel like you still carry that with you, that feeling?

KI: Yeah.

VY: Like how do you feel now? Do you still feel like an outsider?

KI: Well, let me put it this way. We're no longer at war with Japan, and that has been the case almost seventy-five years. So, but what we inherit is a new sensibility about China, and you look Chinese. I said, "Well, I'm not." But then again, a crazy person doesn't know or care whether you're Chinese or Filipino or whatnot, they're going to swear at you or push you into a subway or whatever. So this sense of being a stranger gets periodically resurrected because things happened. China was a friend of the U.S. in World War II, and the Chinese were wearing "I'm not Japanese" buttons. But now it's different. You know, I could say, "Oh, gee, I'm not Chinese." The world's a slippery place. And I'm cautious.

VY: You're still cautious?

KI: Oh, yeah. You know this is strange. If you're Japanese, how do you deal, during the war, how do you deal with the fact that Japan was your enemy and you're on this side? Like, what's the deal? And the deal is you're caught between worlds. And so you somewhat exaggerate yourself, "I'm a great American. I fought in the 442nd," an exaggeration if you will of being a Japanese John Wayne. "Okay, I'm a tough guy," But people don't always see you that way. But when my mother was growing up, I have to put it this way. The world isn't black and white. Although she was Japanese growing up on Bainbridge Island, she did have white friends and people who she related to, and people do relate. When war comes, "Oh my god, you're a Jap." So at any rate, when my wife's father told her, "Be careful," I'm thinking, "Yeah, that's great advice."

VY: It definitely resonated with you, you understood exactly what he meant.

KI: But it isn't to reject another person, but it's to find, well, where can we be? You know, like people in the north look at people in the south as rednecks or the most terrible things. But be cautious because your assumptions could be wrong. I've been in the South, I met a lot of nice people who were, in spite of the fact they were racist, I could relate to.

VY: In spite of it?

KI: Oh, sure. But I hate to be a skeptic. [Laughs]

<Begin Segment 10>

VY: Are there, actually, since you're talking about that, are there any particular stories that come to mind that you can think of where you had to interact with people that were pretty overtly racist but you were able to get along with them?

KI: Yeah. Well, the other day, I'm swimming at the pool, and a guy says, "Where are you from?" "Well, I could say my family's been here twice as long as your family. We're Americans," should be the response. But I cooled down and I says, "My family was originally from Japan, but I've been here a hundred years." Because I could immediately see what he was sort of looking for is, I want to know your nationality or origins or something. And before I would say, "Don't be stupid," but I've since relented by saying, "People mean well," I can understand that. So when the guy asked, I said, "Well, my grandparents are from Japan," which is true. But I've been here a hundred years. Let's move on.

VY: Was this a white person?

KI: Hmm?

VY: Was this a white person that asked you that?

KI: No, no, this was, in fact, he was Persian. [Laughs]

VY: I like your response, that's a good response.

KI: I immediately knew what he wanted, so I told him. But I also added the fact that my family's been here a hundred years.

VY: Do you think... I'm just curious, him as a Persian person asking you this question, do you think he was hoping maybe that you were not from America? Like maybe he was seeking some kind of, something in common or something?

KI: Well, maybe, that he was looking for another immigrant or something. So I'm a little bit, I don't want to be too judgmental. Someone has a sense of one thing, but is awkward in talking, I can understand that. But let's get some basics down, you know. At any rate, the issue for camp, I haven't fully comprehended.

VY: You're still processing.

KI: Oh, yeah. And then... people are surprised when they hear I was in a camp.

VY: Are they? People are surprised? Are they surprised because they didn't know about camp, or are they surprised because they seem to think that you aren't someone who would have been in a camp?

KI: Well, it's a variety of reasons. One is ignorance, obviously. Another is they can't imagine, maybe it's age or something, they really can't imagine about the issue of camp. It just seems like there's too much in the world to worry about. Why worry about camp?

VY: So is it more of a, they didn't know about camp or they just can't really wrap their minds around the fact that it happened? Or is it more, "Well, that was in the past, let's move on" kind of attitude?

KI: That could be it, yeah. But there are so many issues in this world. You know, one thing striking us is the issue of black-white relationships. I mean, that dominates, so you are small fry. I mean, like, why should we consider you guys... I don't know how to put it, but it's suffering. It's a universal issue. So if we suffered, is that important? And then over time, people forget, even among Japanese Americans, you forget. And like I told you about saying this child in Okinawa, but the other day I was watching TV of a Ukrainian child crossing the border fleeing the war. In a sense, the universality of being a victim of war and difficulties like that makes relevant my experience.

VY: Do you think that's why it's important to talk about it?

KI: Yeah. Except that as Asians, we're repeatedly targeted. But still, the way we handle those kids at the border, it just seems inhumane, separating parents.

VY: You're talking about in America?

KI: Yeah.

VY: When you first started hearing about family separation here, did that bring up feelings for you?

KI: Oh, yeah. "How could you do that to another person?" You know, you treat a lot of people like they're dirt. And from a religious standpoint, that's a violation of all religions. And then sometimes one wonders how Christian the far-right Christians are. They're denying their own sense of being Christians. So at any rate, I do have emotions about this. [Laughs]

<Begin Segment 11>

VY: So let's get started again. Let's go back to when your family had to leave your home. And you got on a bus to Puyallup Fairgrounds. Once you arrived at Puyallup Fairgrounds, do you have any memories of that?

KI: Puyallup was a child's dream. Running around free, like in your home you're restricted. But here it's barbed wires, but then within the barbed wires, there was so much space and room to do things. And one of the things I loved was getting a handkerchief and making a parachute. And throwing the parachute up and watching it settle down, I remember that. All these other kids you could hear running around. And then one incident which gave me joy was getting a popsicle. And right outside the fence was a grocery store, and some of the kids from the outside would be runners going between the grocery store and the fence. So you would give them money and they would bring back a popsicle or something. And I didn't think about the fence as a negative thing. But it's like here is something we can do, get popsicles. [Laughs] That was joyful. And starting in Puyallup and all the way even into Minidoka, you're constantly exposed to other kids. It's not just school, but it's the mess hall. Bunch of kids could get together and decide to eat together or something. And then you had all this time hanging around on your block with the other kids. But there was a price to be paid, and the price to be paid is being bullied. And if you... I don't know why I had the bully "kick me" sign on my back, but I remember two girls a couple of barracks over would tease me, and I never fully understood it. And can you imagine girls teasing boys? Well, they were older. Or the one incident that was traumatic for me was a snowball fight. And somehow the older kids got this younger kid to get into a snowball fight. And I felt they were edging this kid on, and he was throwing all these snowballs at me, and I was throwing snowballs back, but I seemed to be losing. I was so mad that I saw a piece of coal and I wrapped the snow around the coal and threw it at him. And amazingly, it hit him and caused him to bleed. So the other kids were watching and they ganged up on top of me. Said, "Hey, you weren't supposed to do that," and then of course they took the kid to the hospital. And in the meantime, the older kids would gather round and berate me. And there I am amongst these guys and they're just berating me. And I thought, oh, it was terrible. Bullying isn't just bullying, it's just some people being mean to another person. But bullying is also a way in which groups socialize younger kids. And so when they see some kid who isn't quite, if you will, with it, he's the target. [Laughs]

And it reinforces, in this sense, the notion of perseverance, of toughness, of putting up with difficulties whatever comes your way. You're supposed to be, if not a man, a real Japanese. That seems kind of funny, but the propaganda in Japan in the 19th century, reinvented the samurai and the yamato damashii. The sense of a people who are strong, who are superior. And so growing up, the main division was Nihonjin and hakujins, Japanese and whites. The others were, I don't know where they were, but that wasn't the issue. And in the camps where the boys were sort of socializing you, it's like Japanese people, Nihonjin people are so tough, they could do anything. And they would, even with poor equipment, they would survive. And that's the propaganda that the Japanese government gave, is that Japanese are so strong and have this yamato damashii spirit. The hakujins are weak. And the contradiction is, "Well, you're in a hakujin society, what are you talking about?" [Laughs] But there was this Japanese/white difference, where the whites were viewed as weaklings. And the boys were, I guess, reinforcing the toughness with which you should be a real Nihonjin guy. And he says, "What do you mean? We're Americans." But Nihonjin, there's that contradiction. And I never fully really could capture that contradiction. Like, "Who do you want to win the war?" "Oh, of course, America." But then periodically, there were magazines that would come to the camp like Life, which was a photographic essay. And there were pictures of the war, and kids, I noticed, were sitting around looking through the magazines and seeing these pictures of the war. Well, there was one picture where the Japanese soldiers were sitting on a cannon saying, "Hey." I said, "Oh, my goodness." "Well, what side are you on?" "Well, we're Americans, aren't we?" And then he says, "But, you know, they treat us like shit. Are we Americans or what?" And this contradiction between the two. Like when I saw that kid in Okinawa, I empathized with him. But I'm American, to hell with it. [Laughs]

But I could never fully get rid of the... you know, if I were of age and asked to go to war, I would have gone to the 442nd. Oh, yeah. But I would have gone with the sense that you got to be brave, you got to be tough. If the guy says charge, you charge. Somehow the idea gets droned into you, from bullying, through other things. And being caught between two worlds is difficult, but if they ask you to go to war, you do what you do for America. But you still carry the Nihonjins' character.

<Begin Segment 12>

VY: Did any of your uncles or cousins join the army, join the military?

KI: No, none of them were in the 442nd. But cousins were in the army after the war, and my brother was in the army, too. But this was after the war. So you know, it was a big deal. They would report on how proud we were that the 442nd did so many good things and it supported our sense of pride that, well, we are somebody. You know, I'm old enough to know that the Japanese were in a tough situation, especially for young kids after the war. We faced anti-Japanese feelings and statements and actions. I remember Mike Yurina at Beacon Hill elementary school calling me "Jap."

VY: Who did that?

KI: Oh, Mike Yurina. I'm friends with him today, but he really put me in a bad spot. I can remember that punch he had in my stomach. Oh gosh, it was terrible.

VY: So he actually physically beat you just because you're Japanese.

KI: Oh, yeah.

VY: Do you remember how that started or happened?

KI: Oh, I don't know. But there was a lot of cautiousness. Like I told you the grocery store in the neighborhood said, "No Japs Allowed."

VY: What neighborhood was that?

KI: Beacon Hill.

VY: And this was after the war?

KI: After the war. And then seeing all the war pictures, you know, the newsreels and Japanese soldiers running across the field aflame because they were, flamethrower caught them. And it isn't that I wanted Japan to win, but as a Japanese person, I was a little bit ambivalent about seeing these because, in a manner of speaking, it could be me.

VY: It's a lot of things to hold on to at once.

KI: Well, simple things. Like I went to a dance once and I was late teens, and I asked this white girl for a dance, and she says, if I danced, she said, "You've got to be kidding," as if I crossed the wrong line. So Les' grandfather was right, "Be careful." [Laughs]

VY: You never know how people are going to react to different things.

KI: Oh, yeah. And then, being cautious, you think to yourself, "I better not do this," so you self-censor yourself in a manner of speaking. But at any rate, getting back to being socialized, there was this constant reinforcement of Japanese ethos even though it's within American context. I'll give you an illustration about being mixed. Of course I was interested in airplanes, constantly thinking of them. There was some guy in camp in the latrine, with a pencil he drew a perfect picture of a B-17, and I mean perfect down to the detail. I was amazed when I saw this picture on the wall.

VY: On the wall in the latrine?

KI: Yeah, in the latrine, the picture of a B-17. For people who don't know what a B-17 is, it was one of the big planes that America produced for the war. Well, interested in the airplanes, I once made an airplane out of little pieces of wood, and then put a string, so you could swing it and it would fly. But for some reason I put what's called a meatball, the Japanese sun, on this plane. And then I thought about it and I thought, gee, I better not show it to other people. But what that represents is being between two sides. "You are Japanese, aren't you?" "Oh, yeah." "Your grandma is from Japan?" "Yeah." "Your father is from Japan?" "Yeah." "They speak Japanese?" "Yeah." "They listen to Japanese music." "Well, where are you in all this?" I don't speak Japanese very well, but these are people I know. So someone said it's like being caught between parents who are divorcing.

VY: Interesting.

KI: My mother is Japanese, my father is American, they're arguing. Well, I know it's more than that. Japan did terrible things, I mean, the war machine, it was awful. But you still have this sense that you were, in a manner of speaking, on both sides. I'll give you an example. There was an acquaintance of mine who was Japanese American, and his, in high school he went to, he shared the locker with another guy. And this other guy was British, but also lived in America. But he never lived in England, he lived in China. And in China he was put in a prison camp. So this friend of mine, this Japanese American, apologized to him for being in a Japanese camp. But then, well, there's a contradiction there. The contradiction is, "Aren't you American?" "But you didn't put people in camp, the Japanese government did. Why are you apologizing?" And it really reflects the bicultural nature of Japanese Americans, at least the early ones. And here I am with the plane with the meatballs. Well, that reflected the sort of, the duality. Even though, if I were of age, draft age, I would have gone and fought.

VY: Again, there are so many contradictions, so many things to hold on to at the same time.

KI: Yeah. So I would put it this way. Being Japanese American during World War II was tough. [Laughs] And as a child, I could sense it.

VY: Yeah.

<Begin Segment 13>

VY: So talk a little bit more about what it was like in camp itself. Do you have any memories of, say, what your parents did? For instance, where did you live, what was that like?

KI: My father was a cook in Block 40 or something like that, and we lived in Block 36. So he was gone a lot because he was cooking, so I rarely saw him. My mother... and by the way, I think his wage was something like fourteen dollars a month, it was minimum, but it was at least something that occupied them. And then my mother was, I think she was, helped as an aide in the hospital and then she worked in a store that sold needles and threads. So both my mother and father then worked. So I didn't see my father a lot, and the four of us, my mother and father, brother and myself lived in a room that is, I would say, not too much larger than this room. Next door lived my uncle, and it was my brother's, my father's brother. I have pictures of being with my first cousins in camp. And then my uncle, my mother's brother, lived in Block 30, I think it was, so we didn't see each other because there was some distance. So in a manner of speaking, a lot of the time left over was to be with other kids. And that was very different. It was almost like Lord of the Flies. [Laughs] You know, where the kids took control of things.

VY: I've heard that before. Like during the day, especially, kids were kind of free to just be with each other and explore the inside of the camp.

KI: Oh, yeah. I remember there was an underground structure full of, I forget what it was, but of hay or something, we would go there and play. And there was a swimming pool made, and I forgot how it was, but it's probably later. And what else? Oh, school.

VY: Did you like school?

KI: Yeah, I liked school.

VY: What were your teachers like?

KI: Oh, I thought they were quite nice. I had no objections. They were mainly white women. And I thought they were nice to us. In fact, within the camp I thought we were treated nicely by whites, but it was after the camp that I realized that was an exception.

<Begin Segment 14>

VY: Maybe we should move on to after camp, then, let's talk about that. Is there anything else that you want to...

KI: The war was so recent and it was on everyone's mind, and in camps were still the "Japs" and we were still "Japs," and we were called that. People ask, well, "Did anyone in your family fight on the other side?" There was really questions about your loyalty. Like, "You're a 'Jap,' right?" But that was, kids are kids, and then you play cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians and things like that. And you sort of get along, but over time, the issue of being Japanese is somewhat diminished, but it was after the war that I experienced the most anti-Japanese prejudice.

VY: Did you experience that from adults or other kids or both?

KI: Both. It was easy for adults in the neighborhood to call me the "Jap kid."

VY: Did they call you that to your face?

KI: No. When they made reference to me, they said, "Oh, where's that Jap kid?" I said, "Oh, gee, thank you."

VY: How about in school?

KI: Well, I told you Mike Yurina beat me up.

VY: Actually, I'm interested in that. So you said you two are still friends, you're friends today?

KI: Well, yeah, because we were in school, elementary school, middle school and then high school. And I made friends with him. He was the one who beat me up.

VY: Did you ever talk about that with him?

KI: No.

VY: No? Just kind of the unspoken thing that happens?

KI: You know, it's not as if the world is divided between only good guys and bad guys, but people are sometimes both. And eventually you have to sort of get along with each other. So in camp, I didn't... I sensed the conflict between the two sides, but I don't remember talking about it with my parents, ever. It was almost unspoken. I didn't have a grandfather that told me to be careful.

VY: Were there other people in your life when you were a child that kind of told you that, though, or no?

KI: No, it was assumed it was a reality of the division. I'm trying to think of an incident. Well, even though my family were, income-wise, considered middle class, the main view of us was being Japanese rather than middle class because we didn't have the accoutrements of middle class except the house. The house was big, three stories on Beacon Hill.

<Begin Segment 15>

VY: Actually, let's talk about the house. And when you returned, when your family returned to Seattle after leaving Minidoka, what was waiting for your family? Was the hotel still...

KI: Okay. The hotel was held by a management company that was honest with that because they kept the hotel, ran the hotel, and whatever profits were made, they would send it to my parents, so my parents had a source of income if they wanted. And through that income, they purchased this house. Now, at the time, I think they paid cash for it, but at the time, the house, in 1945, probably must have been worth maybe, I don't know, ten thousand dollars. And at that time, houses typically were under five. So this was a big house. And Beacon Hill was a changing area where there used to be a lot of big houses, but then it was transformed into, if you will, a working class neighborhood, but we had this big house. I remember my cousin, Mr. Suzuki, his family lived in apartments, and we lived in a house. So that was one of the signs that we were comfortable. And we were able to afford it because of the profits made during the war. We weren't one of the ones who really lost out.

VY: Do you know how your parents arranged the... so this management company took care of the hotel while you were in camp, they must have had to arrange all that pretty quickly.

KI: Well, there was, I guess, a management camp, I mean, company that took over the hotel and managed it for them. And they must have charged a management fee, but there was this little profit which they used to buy the house.

VY: And where on Beacon Hill was the house? What street was that on?

KI: Hmm?

VY: In Beacon Hill, what street was the house on?

KI: Thirteenth. And it was right near the Marine Hospital.

VY: Okay. Is it still there?

KI: It's still there.

VY: Is it still in your family?

KI: No.

VY: Okay, so you came back, you had a house waiting for you.

KI: Yes.

VY: And then do you remember when you and your brother were growing up, did you ever work in the hotel?

KI: Sometimes.

VY: What kinds of things did you do?

KI: Yeah, not often, but we would go to the hotel and help out. I remember helping my father hang paper, wallpaper. And my mother would clean the beds and vacuum dust. You know, if someone asked me what my father was, I said he was a janitor. We actually owned the hotel, but we didn't hire a lot of people, we did it ourselves.

VY: That's so interesting. So if someone asked you what your father did for a living, you would say he was a janitor?

KI: Yeah, because he was, did the janitorial work. [Laughs]

<Begin Segment 16>

VY: Let's see. Oh, and did you have any summer jobs while you were going to school?

KI: Yes. We were... for some reason, we were always expected that we would go out every summer and work. My brother used to go to a farm, Nishimuras farm in Kent, and we're picking strawberries and beans and things. And one summer I did that, but other summers I would... I remember working in a frozen food plant where we would push carts around. And one summer I actually went to California and picked grapes. I remember another job I had was at the airport, and at the time they had airplanes that had... every airplane has a toilet. Well, there was this airplane called the B... I forget what it was, there was a six. And there was a toilet in the back, but the toilet consisted of a little bucket. And my job was to clean the toilet. Take the stuff out, dump it, and then put it back. And then they had another airplane where you stuck a hose in the back and you pumped water in it, it cleaned the toilet. So I was in the honey bucket. Of course, I delivered newspapers at once, but we were always asked, or at least encouraged to work because idle hands. [Laughs]

VY: When you had the job cleaning the airplanes, were there other people working with you?

KI: Oh, yeah, it was clearly a working-class job. It was not... cleaning other people's latrines, I mean, it was stinky. [Laughs]

VY: Sounds awful.

<Begin Segment 17>

VY: I think you mentioned at one point, we were talking earlier about an interaction you had with someone, I think it was one of the people that was also cleaning the plane?

KI: Oh, yeah. Yeah, the issue of being a man, for a Japanese person, it's your character. It's not that you're big and brawny, but it's your character. Well, for many Americans, being masculine means being like John Wayne, low voice, muscles, that sort of thing. Well, one of the first thing that struck me is the guy said I'm effeminate. I said, "Gee, what do you mean?" He says, "You behave too refined," or something. And the issue for me about gender was never an issue. I always thought of myself as a male, but then again, growing up, I liked child's things. And being a child is like being a crybaby, somewhat behind. Oh, here, let me show you something. This is a teddy bear I got when I was seven. Still have it, I gave it to my daughter. And here is a picture of myself with the teddy bear.

VY: Wow.

KI: Now, you ask, what is the significance of this teddy bear? Well, when the guy called me effeminate and another time I went to Higo's Ten Cent -- I mean, the department store on Jackson, I went to buy a toy. And the clerk said, "Aren't you a little old for this toy?" And I said, "No, I want it." It was a little tin soldier with a drum. And I forgot how old I was, but what these objects sort of tell me is I was still a child-child, but in a body that was growing older. And in modern terms, when you talk about gender, I was probably a combination of a boy and a girl in terms, not of sexuality, but of my willingness to do things that younger people do or girls do. For example, I was dusting my house, vacuuming, and I have a picture of myself once with an apron and a broom, and with symbols is that I was a little bit, if not effeminate, not a hundred percent boy. I don't mean sexually, but in terms of what boys are supposed to do. Of course, I mowed lawns, too, but in a way, in my house, in many houses, there was a girl's work and a boy's work. Well, I did both.

VY: How about your brother? Did he do both?

KI: One brother. And his job was to fix cars and do other things.

VY: So he did more of the male thing? He was older, right?

KI: Yeah, he was much more male. I mean, he was, I would say, more progressed in terms of male-female relationships. He had all the attributes of a guy-guy. [Laughs]

VY: Well, I think you said before that you were very close to your mom. Was your brother also close to your mom or was he more close to...

KI: Not as close. You know, I was kind of like a mama's boy, I guess, in a manner of speaking. That's all besides being in the camps and all that. But part of it has to do with the way I responded to things. Like in camp when I was bullied, in retrospect, I have to say, I probably acted like a mama's boy. I had this.

VY: A teddy bear.

KI: You know, I don't think of myself as, let's say, a homosexual or in a sexual sense, but I don't think of myself as strictly male things. So, for example, in my marriage, I help my wife do all the stuff in the house, including vacuuming. In fact, I was better vacuumer than my wife. Wash dishes, help with the clothes. I hear people complain that they go to work, and the wife goes to work, but the wife has to do all the indoor stuff. Well, that wasn't me. So in terms of responding to things, I guess that was part of my character. [Laughs]

VY: Yeah, it seems like it was more just kind of who you were. I mean, it's probably a little bit of nature and nurture, right? But also you were receptive to that.

KI: Yeah.

VY: And these days that's appreciated. For a man to do more things that are often left to the women is definitely more appreciated, whereas, it sounds like, when you were growing up, it seemed more negative.

KI: Anyway, that resulted in... I think my mother wanted a daughter, but she got me. [Laughs] You know, not intentionally, but in fact...

VY: Do you think all of that influenced you throughout your life, your upbringing, and you're a little more introspective and a little more sensitive than maybe the average male, that sort of thing?

KI: Well, it did impact me that way, it's that there are women's point of view. And one of the things women are better at are emotions. Or one of the things in a male-female relationship is the woman oftentimes complains, "Can't we talk?" [Laughs] That sort of thing. And so, yeah, I talk with my wife. But that was, became part of the way I dealt with life. That takes us away a little bit from camp, but I figure part of it has to do with the way I was bullied.

VY: So you were saying before that the bullying was a way to toughen you up. Do you think it helped? Do you think it did that?

KI: Oh, yeah, because when I go to the doctor, I make sure I don't cry. I don't say ouch, or in the Japanese term, you don't say, "Itai, itai."

VY: So now you can be both, you can be tough and you could be sensitive.

KI: Yeah, I guess. Because I don't say, "Itai." [Laughs]

<Begin Segment 18>

VY: Well, do you think all that influenced your choice of career, your career choice?

KI: Well, I would say that I was lucky. I didn't know what I wanted to do. A lot of the Japanese Americans after the war, if they went to the UW said, "Oh, let's go become an accountant or engineer," some traditional occupation that parents would know and delighted, "Oh, become a doctor," or something. I didn't know exactly what to do until I went to college. And then you take different courses and it turns out, for example, I was very good at history, yeah. And I found it fascinating, but you know, like history, how does that relate to making a living? So let's pick something practical, so among Japanese Americans it was like, "Oh, let's go engineering because Boeing's down the street, they hire a lot of engineers." Well, that wasn't my cup of tea, I wasn't, if you will, passionate about it. So I took the courses in sociology, and this professor was really good and fascinated me, and it got my juices going, if I could put it that way. And so I said, "Oh, gee, I'm in the wrong major."

VY: That's great that you had that opportunity to be exposed to that, and you realized what you wanted to do.

KI: Yeah. So I went to the University of Oregon and got my master's degree. And then after that I went to Northwestern and I got a PhD. And all this time, my father and mother worried about me because it was a career that didn't seem understandable except that, "Oh, you must be, becoming a social worker," we know what that is, but we don't make much money. "Can't you do something better?" And I like the profession.

VY: I understand you spent a lot of time working with different immigrant families?

KI: Oh, yeah. I worked in the, with the immigrant communities. And beyond being an academic, I helped in terms of establishing services to, in this case, it would be Southeast Asians in terms of, let's say, making sure there were bilingual staff that could deal with parents who didn't speak English or counselors who could help the students pick programs. And the other one was, I helped establish a police service component to the San Diego police department where they would hire Southeast Asians who were bilingual and who could intervene in family disputes or gang developments or whatever it was. And so they establish these branches with bilingual service officers. And I spent a lot of time also with the school district helping them integrate, if you will, the new refugees into the school system.

VY: Is there any, do you have anything that stands out? Sounds like you had a very long career doing this. I was just wondering if there was any particular moment or person that stands out that makes you think about why you chose this career, like what made it rewarding for your or meaningful to you?

KI: I would say that some of the students come back to see me and they aren't all refugees. It just so happens that they were stimulated by my teaching. And so they would come back to see me and we still have conversations. I'm just trying to think of all the refugees I dealt with. They were from four groups. They were Vietnamese, Lao, Lao-Hmong, Cambodians. And in a matter of speaking, I guess I was like a social worker where you go in the community to help facilitate institutions to deal with the changing demographics, and I did that.

VY: How many years did you do this for? Like from when to when?

KI: Oh, I can't even remember. But you know, refugees were very thankful, so they used to give me little tablets, this contribution or that. And I felt good about that. So instead of doing only academic work, I did a lot of intervention. Up until this year, I think I'll quit, but I also work with Latinos in terms of schooling. So it's not just only Asians, but it's, if you will, strangers, immigrants. And I'm on a board of one of the organizations that educate parents about schools.

VY: Do you feel like you can sort of relate to people who were immigrants? I mean, you weren't an immigrant, but do you feel like your experience...

KI: Yes, definitely. I mean, it isn't just if they're Asians, but if they're, if you will, the new strangers.

VY: Back to that feeling of being a stranger.

KI: Yeah. And I'm happy to help. I'm not superman, I can't do all this. I mean, it's facilitating here and there.

VY: So was that the main reason you moved to California was for your career, like after you...

KI: No.

VY: No? Why did you go to California?

KI: Well, I had a friend who was in San Diego, and he says, "Oh, come on down to San Diego, I'll get you a job." Went to San Diego and I got a job offer and I said, "Oh, let's go and see what it's like." And it happens that we were near my wife's parents, which made the big difference.

VY: Had you started a family yet?

KI: Yeah.

VY: So how old were you?

KI: Pardon?

VY: So how old were you when you moved to California?

KI: Thirty-two, thirty-something, that age. I never thought I would live in California, but it worked out. And, of course, there are a lot of Japanese Americans here. And I worked in a, I worked for an agency that dealt with Japanese or Asians. That was a long time ago.

VY: What did you do?

KI: They had... well, one was a group of educators who gave input to the state of California. And we'd go up and we talked to the superintendent of education and discussed issues. I remember once some presidential election, they took one of our reports and gave it to one of the ones who was running for president. So that seemed to help.

VY: Did you get the impression that they...

KI: Pardon?

VY: Did you get the impressions that they listened to what you said?

KI: Well, they were interested. And I ended up for a while giving talks to educators about the demographics. And yeah, that took a lot of time.

VY: Like sort of educating other people about the needs of these people?

KI: Yeah, and showing them data on what to think about. I even wrote a pamphlet to educators about how to deal with this new population. I mean, I did something. It wasn't a miracle but it was work that I, of a yeoman.

VY: I mean, it sounds like it's been a very fulfilling career, and it also sounds like your early life experiences kind of influenced the way you chose your career and approached life now.

KI: Yeah, it was surprising to me.

<Begin Segment 19>

VY: You know, before we wrap everything up today, first of all, I just want to thank you so much for coming here today and sharing your story and your life and all of your insights. And I guess one last question I have is I wonder if you, do you still feel like an outsider and do you think it's important to continue to talk about the past?

KI: Yeah. You know, one of the things I sort of always admired about Jews in Europe, being outsiders, is that they were, they brought to the table intellectual stimulation, different ways of looking at issues. Your contribution, being all different forms, poetry and literature. Well, Franz Kafka is an example. So that these outsiders brought stimulation, especially in terms of the enlightenment and in terms of the development of western cultures. And I sympathetically felt a kinship to this tradition even though I'm not a poet or artist. And so the irony is I became a Jew. [Laughs]

VY: That's great. Is there anything else you want to talk about before we end today? We covered a lot.

KI: Well, let me ask you this: did I cover all that you had in mind?

VY: Oh my gosh, so much. I so appreciate it, yes. We talked about so many really important things and current events, too. So I'm very appreciative of that, thank you so much.

KI: Thank you.