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VY: Okay. Today is Friday, July 26, 2024. We are here with Misa Mihara in the Densho studio which is located in Seattle, Washington. On camera is Dana Hoshide, and my name is Virginia Yamada, and I'm one of the interviewers along with Caitlin Oiye, who is Misa's niece and the daughter of her brother Alan. So, Misa, thank you so much for joining us today.

MM: I'm pleased to be here.

VY: Thank you. Let's get started by having you tell us when and where you were born?

MM: I was born in Tacoma, Washington, same hospital as my dad, in 1941, November 20.

VY: And what was the full name given to you when you were born?

MM: Misa Setsuko Oiye.

VY: Did your family ever have any nicknames for you?

MM: (Yes, Setchan).

VY: And what generation are you?

MM: Sansei, third.

VY: Okay, thank you. I'll have more questions later, but first Caitlin is going to talk with you about your family history now.

CC: Yeah. So I'm going to start out with your grandparents. So I know you didn't know them personally, but how much do you know about your grandparents on your mom's side and your dad's side?

MM: I know some about my mom's side. I don't know very much... well, what I think I know about my dad's side (is not much), I mean, I don't really know. Would you like to hear first about my mom's side then, because I know more about her side.

CC: Yeah, sure.

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CC: And actually, why don't we, so your mom was Shizuko Kikuchi.

MM: Yes. And they called her Mary. She was born in Colorado, Brighton, Colorado, and she was the youngest in the family. Her dad was a farmer, and he was very good at what he did. And her mother grew flowers, she had a garden that she grew for (herself), what do you call it, disposable income, you might say. But that was them, and he was sort of like a leader in the community, and my mom used to say that the Japanese community would just come to their house all the time, she said they have company all the time. The leaders, he was like a leader, so they would come with their problems and talk to him about different things. I don't think he chose to be, it's just that's how it happened. So that's all I know about my... well, I could tell you stories about some of the things he did. Shall I tell you about those?

CC: Well, first, let's take a step back. So they were born, do you know where they were born in Japan?

MM: Yes, I think they were both born in Japan, they were Isseis, so they immigrated over here. And I don't know if I should tell you about my grandfather, he was kind of like the black sheep of the family. And he was one of the older ones, I think, I'm not really sure. But he came here, he was already married to my grandmother, but he came by himself, left two boys and his wife in Japan, he came to the United States, and, I don't know, it was just, I don't know, just roaming around, apparently. I don't really know what he was doing. But he was doing things he shouldn't be doing, apparently. So my, the person I called Baachan, who was, like grandmother, she was my surrogate grandmother. And she was, Miyuki Hashimoto is not my aunt, but I used to call her Auntie Miyuki. Okay, and so her mother, Auntie Miyuki's mother, I don't even know what her name was, I just called her Baachan. She was the one, apparently, who told him to quit fooling around, go get his wife and children and bring them back. Well, I think that he brought only his wife back, and the two children were left there. My grandmother, who came from a really wealthy family, apparently, so she had to go begging for some of her food for her children, because he didn't leave her with any money, apparently. And there's this one story, which is really kind of a cool story, and who knows how true it is or whatever. But because they were so poor, and she was too proud to go to her parents and say, "I need money," anyway, they were poor. So her two boys were outside playing one time, apparently, this is the story I've been told, and a man in white clothing came by and gave them some rice balls. And they went in to show their mother that this stranger had given them some rice balls, and she went out to thank him and he was gone. And we think that they were, that he was an angel that came to save these two little boys. But anyway, I like that story. Where was I?

CC: Well, let's go... so your grandfather, he settled eventually in Colorado.

MM: Yes. And he had made a lot of money doing his farming, he was very good at that, and he didn't own it apparently, because I don't think he could own land, I think he was just leasing it. But his father, my great grandfather, that called him home and said, "You have to come home," because they had a mikan orchard, and he was getting pretty old and not able to work, so he had to go home. And so he gathered up his entire family and went home. And my mom was, I think, in fifth grade at the time, but I'm not certain about that. So she lived her first maybe ten years in Colorado, and then went to Japan. So that's on my mom's side. Now, my dad's side, I don't know very much about, because he didn't talk about his family very much. What I heard about them was from my mother, actually. So what she told me was that they came from a samurai family that had been exiled, but that's as far as I know. And I've seen a picture of my, that would be my grandfather, no, my... who would that be? My great grandfather?

CC: Great grandfather?

MM: My great grandfather in a samurai outfit that was not really brand-new looking, but it was a full outfit, looks just like my dad. I would have thought it was my dad, except it wasn't. So I think that there's some truth to some part of it, I�m not sure what. And my dad was the oldest, well, my grandfather lost his first wife, so they had a child who was the father of my cousins, of course, he was the half brother of my dad. And my dad was the oldest son of that family, and then he had a sister that was born next, and then a brother, a younger brother. So that's all I know about my dad's side.

CC: But you know that they were from the same area as your mom's side?

MM: Oh, yeah, they were from Ehime-ken.

CC: And then where did... he come to the United States, your grandfather? What state did he settle in?

MM: I had no idea for sure, but I'm pretty sure that it was Tacoma, because my dad had a lot of connections in Tacoma, and they worked in a restaurant or something like that, and I was born there. And my dad actually came back and forth a lot from Japan, so I don't know where they got all their money. So we had, growing up, we had all these ideas since we didn't know, my brothers and I, we thought, hmm, well, maybe they were pirates, or how did they get their money? Because we don't know, they had a mikan farm. If you looked at my dad, you wouldn't think of him as a farmer. I mean, he's more intellectual, their whole family is very intellectual. They do haiku, they do painting, they do music. I mean, all sorts of things that are not related to farming. Whereas my mom's side, they're bigger, and you can see them working the land. So I don't know what happened, it's a mystery to me.

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CC: Well, and that's, I mean, unless, you have anything else to say about them, that's probably a good segue to start talking about your dad. Are you ready to do that?

MM: Sure.

CC: Okay. So why don't you give us his name and when he was born and where?

MM: Okay. My dad, his name was Shigenori Oiye. However, I don't know if you know this, Caitlin, but I think he was given the name Shigeyasu, but he decided it was not a propitious name, so he changed it to Shigenori. [Laughs] And he was born in Tacoma, St. Joseph's Hospital, just like I was. And he was born March 9, 1911.

CC: And so what do you want to tell us about him? Like maybe tell us, first, just some of what he did over the course of his life? You already talked about him going back and forth, what kind of education he had and what kind of work he did?

MM: Okay, so my dad's side of the family is, let's see, I think that when they came here, they must have not liked being in the United States very much. Because they went back to Japan fairly early in his life. And the reason I think this is because my dad had a heavy accent, English accent. There were certain, like he couldn't say "Ls" very well, so this is sort of funny. My mom wanted to name me Claire, but he couldn't say Claire, because he couldn't say the "L." He wanted to name my brother, my next brother, Shoji, she actually wanted to call him Glen, but my dad couldn't say "Glen," so they named him Shoji. By the time my youngest brother came, Alan, she couldn't care less, apparently. [Laughs] So his name is Alan. Anyway, my dad was, he had a really good sense of humor. He liked to whistle a lot, and I don't know when he quit whistling, but he did that. And he was mainly wanting to be an artist, a graphic artist. And I remember he had, he was taking correspondence courses, and I don't know where those things are, I don't know if your dad has them or what, but they're like, I remember they were green and long, and he used to draw figures all the time, and he used to practice doing that. And he was really good with his hands, and I remember that when I was starting cursive writing, he would show me how to work my wrists and everything, so I would have a nice handwriting.

But he was, I think, way ahead of his time in terms of men, what men and women should do, because one of the things in Japanese culture is that it's really nice to have a boy first. So I asked him about that, and he says, "How do you feel about me being born first?" and he said, oh, he liked it. He was just fine with it, and he didn't mind. And in terms of, in the house, he sometimes was vacuuming, he sometimes cooked, but he knew that my mom was working really hard. So he did some of the things that you wouldn't normally have a husband do or a father do. One of my most favorite memories is that when we got out of camp, I had to, well, they wanted me to be in school, because they had to start working right away, they didn't have any money. So they had to start working, so they wanted me in school, me to be in school. But I was, like, only four, and I think the cutoff date for starting kindergarten was five. So I had to take a test, but I didn't know how to speak English. I only spoke Japanese, because they thought they were going to be sent back to Japan. So anyway, my dad was the one who took me to the place to be interviewed, to go in early to kindergarten. And this is the one thing I remember, and thinking about later, that the one question I remember they asked me was to, well, they pointed at a picture and asked me what that was. So I said, in Japanese, "inu," which is "dog." And my dad had to, of course, translate, and so they apparently trusted that he was translating correct. Truthfully, because I know that he wanted me to be in school, and I knew what that was. So anyway, I got into school, that was grade school, well, kindergarten, when I was four. So he was really quite a person and he... should we go into the time in camp or not?

CC: Well, first, why don't you just... so he wanted to be an artist, but what did he actually end up doing for work?

MM: Oh, this is what was so sad, okay. Because my mom and dad were really both very, very smart, but because they had just gotten out of camp, there was a lot of prejudice, and this is just looking back on my part of it. They started a laundry down in Pioneer Square across from the old Seattle Hotel, apparently. They did that for, I don't know how long, let's see, maybe a couple of years. And then eventually my dad and his brother who is very close to his half brother, they started a restaurant on First Avenue, and my mother also worked there, and my aunt, who was the wife of my uncle, who was my dad's half brother, she watched all the kids. And that was one of the happiest times, I think, in his life. He liked what he was doing, I think he would rather have been doing the art, but he was all right with it, and he was a waiter, my uncle did the cooking. And beyond that, do you want to know beyond that? I'm not really sure what he did beyond that. The restaurant had to be abandoned because they didn't own the property there. And the owner of the property sold the place to a garage, which I still believe to this day is a garage, which seems really stupid because they were doing really good business. It was one of the best places to eat, I believe, on First Avenue.

CC: Do you remember what it was called?

MM: It was called the Old Grand, it was called the Old Grand restaurant, well, that's Old Grand. And as kids we used to go after it closed, and we used to help out and fill the salt and pepper shakers and that sort of thing. I have really good memories of that place. So after that, when it closed, I think he was really at a loss as to what to do. Because by then he was probably in his forties, middle forties, maybe getting close to fifty, I'm not really sure. He got really sick. I remember... let's see. Yeah, I remember him getting very, very ill, and having to take him to the hospital, and I was pregnant at the time, so he must have been close to fifty. And so he worked for a time doing jewelry, which was kind of something he probably kind of liked to do, but it didn't make enough money, I think, and he quit that job. And the last job that I know of that he had was working as a typesetter, I believe, at a Japanese newspaper place, I don't know what it was called. But we think that that was contributing, my brother and I, Alan, he and I think that that was a contributing factor to his getting cancer and dying, because probably there was no ventilation where they were doing this. And my brother remembers him coming home with all this black ink on his hands, and we thought he had kidney, tuberculosis of the kidney, but as it is, he died of kidney cancer, and we think it's all related.

And oh, one of the things I wanted to mention is that coming out of camp, while he was in camp, the food did not agree with him. He looked, I have a picture of him when he was probably just mid-thirties out of camp, he looked really old and skinny. I'm sure the food didn't agree with him, so that didn't help. And you take a look at, you take a look at him in the pictures when he was like seventy, he looked way healthier by then. So I think that the camp food was really horrible for him, not only for him, for my mother as well, and I think we'll get to that, probably.

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CC: Yeah, we'll talk more about incarceration, but we did want, I did want to talk to you a little bit about his experience. So which camp was he in?

MM: Which what?

CC: Which camp was he in?

MM: Oh, Tule Lake.

CC: Tule Lake? And he was there for the whole time, just in Tule Lake?

MM: No, I don't really know. Because I think, I was so little, and they never talked about it, really. But I'm not sure, and you probably know, Caitlin, and because you've done... but I think they were put in some other place and then they were moved to Tule Lake just right after, not long after they were removed from their homes.

CC: Yeah, I know we've talked a little bit before about how you think the camp experience really affected him. So do you want to kind of talk about, you were basically born right before the camps, so you don't know much about what he was like before the camps, but do you have an impression of how that affected his personality in his later life?

MM: Well, I think he was fine for a while, I just think that physically it just didn't do him any good. And he might have been bitter about it, I'm not really sure. He didn't want to talk about it. I did ask him at one point, when I was older, I asked him how he felt about having been in camp. Well, first of all, he didn't want to really talk about it. He said it's better to just go on and live your life. But then any time there was something on the news or a book that would come out, he wanted me to read about it, so it did affect him. It was just interesting that way that he didn't really want to talk about it. And I can't remember, there's something else that's in the back of my mind that I can't remember what he said about it. Sorry it's not there now.

CC: If you remember you can let us know.

MM: Okay.

CC: I mean, is there anything else you want to talk about him before we move on to your mom?

MM: I can't think of anything.

CC: All right.

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CC: So let's talk about your mom now. Why don't you do the same thing, give us her name and where she was born.

MM: Okay. Her name is Shizuko Oiye, well, Shizuko Kikuchi Oiye, Kikuchi was her maiden name. In Colorado when she started school, I think, they called her Mary, as was very common. So you'll find a lot of people, a lot of women her age in Japanese who got the name Mary. Oh, my dad was called Tommy, which was also very common. But anyway, what did you want me to do?

CC: When was she born?

MM: Oh, she was born November 14, 1922.

CC: And then do you want to tell us a little bit about her life, maybe growing up, I know you mentioned that she did have to go back to Japan.

MM: Yes. That was a very bad experience for her. I mean, school was great, she did very well in school, but her mom died shortly after she went to Japan. And her father remarried this woman who was a bitch. Sorry, but she was, and she treated her like, you know, you hear these stories of stepmothers, she proved to be a really bad stepmother. I mean, I know there were stepmothers that are really, really good. But she, I think, married -- it's my personal opinion that she married him for his money. And people would say that they could see them out on the, going to the opera and that sort of thing. Whereas my mother, when she needed scissors at school for her Home Ec. class, and they had to bring their own scissors, so they wouldn't buy it for her, so she took her mother's. And this stepmother got really mad at her for taking her (mother's) scissors to school. And she did all sorts of things to her that apparently didn't go well over with my mother, or, well, with my mother. And so she tried several times to run away, because she had a brother that was twenty years older. So, well, apparently at the school, they realized that she was living with her (mother), and they forgave her a lot of stuff because they knew what she was going through. She ended up living with her brother for I don't know how long, until she got married, actually. And the story she says is that she remembers hearing her brother having a big argument with her father about why he wasn't helping to pay for her at least if he couldn't have her in the house, why didn't he help pay for her living with him? Because they were not that well off, so she remembered that part of it.

And she really loved her sister-in-law and her nephew, but she had to do an arranged marriage with my dad, which turned out just fine. Because, though, in an arranged marriage, you don't love somebody at first, she had this marriage that she was forced into, which was not bad for her probably, because she was living with her brother and she couldn't live with her dad. But before he died, he did apparently apologize to her about the fact that he understood what she went through after her mom died. So... anyway, she also had a sister that, anyway, she had an older sister that ran away, so it wasn't just my mother. And I don't know about my uncle. I should have asked him before he died, there's so many things I wished I'd asked before he died. He left home pretty early, I think, pretty early on and came to the United States, because he was born here and just did the railroads and different things like that.

Anyway, so it was an arranged marriage, so this is one really great story that I've got to tell. Okay, so even though they weren't married because of love or anything, I think they still treated each other pretty well. Because I remember her telling this story about -- she's very scared of water, okay -- so in Tacoma, they went out to whatever, is that Deception? Well, anyway, it starts with a D, this bay, and there were a lot of whirlpools there. And he took them out on, one day they went out on a boat, rowboat. He took my mom out there and my mom was, she said she's hanging on for dear life to the side, she's scared to death. But she said it was fine, it was fine, except that they got stuck in a whirlpool, but my dad was very... oh, I forgot to tell you about this, he's a very good swimmer. And he used to swim between islands, so he had really strong arms. So he was able, there were some fishermen out there who wanted to know if they needed help. My dad said, "No, no, I can get us out," or something, and he did. He got them out of this whirlpool by rowing. And so I thought that was pretty cool that at least he took my mom out for some fun. So I don't know what else they did, but anyway, I think it might have been a better life for her in some ways, but, of course, things changed once they were here, and they were so poor.

CC: Well, they were married in Japan around 1940.

MM: Well, assuming that they were married in 1940 and that I'm not a bastard child, but I might be. [Laughs]

CC: Do you know what year they came back to the United States?

MM: In 1940, but I don't actually know, I don't have any pictures of them being married and I don't have the pictures of them being married here, but that's only because I didn't question them about it.

CC: So they came back and they lived in Tacoma?

MM: Yes, they lived in Tacoma, that's why I was born there. And then it was after that that, I figured it out seventeen days after I was born, was Pearl Harbor. And then several months after that, we were in camp.

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CC: And then, again, we'll talk more about incarceration in a little bit, but why don't you tell us, because I find your mom's story of the work that she did over the course of her life interesting.

MM: Oh, yeah.

CC: Can you give us the background on that?

MM: My mom was... actually, right when she graduated high school, she had a job as a bank teller. She's really good at the abacus, and I realized that later on in life, but I'll tell you about that. She was, so she was a bank teller and then they got married and came here. And then she was a waitress at the restaurant where they worked. She got pregnant while she was working there, she was pregnant with me. And I think one of the reasons I really liked music is because I think whatever you do when you're pregnant carries on to your fetus. Anyway, she said she used to walk down these stairs and would see this piano all the time and wish she could play the piano. So I don't know if that has anything to do with anything, but she worked as a waitress there. And then, let's see, then during camp, well, you don't want to hear about that yet? Okay. So later? Okay. So after camp, let's see, what happened? She had some jobs as a housemaid, and there was one lady in particular, her name was Mrs., it starts with an M. She was really nice, and she was at the Olive Hotel or something downtown, and my mom would take me there sometimes with her. And by then I was learning to play the violin, and I remember this lady, she was wealthy, living in this hotel, Grand Old Hotel downtown, and so she bought me this pink dress to wear for when I performed. I remember that, I have a picture of her somewhere. So she did that for a little bit, but mostly she was a waitress. She waitered at the old, what was the name of that department, Rhodes, I think there was a Rhodes department store. And then she did another job somewhere else waitressing, and then she finally got a job at the Women's University Club, which was the one that was the best because it was a nicer place, and she was really good at what she did. But let's see, I can't remember. Was that before or after the... oh yeah, that was after. Sorry, I skipped a whole area. [Laughs] Where she was... let's see, I can't remember for sure. She was a waitress and then, yeah, oh, so when they had the restaurant after the laundry, she was a waitress at the restaurant that my uncle and my dad got together, I guess. I don't know how they worked that. But she was a waitress and I remember her doing the books with my uncle after the day, and so she was working the abacus. And one of the things I remember is how fast she could do the abacus, just the click-click-click-click, really fast, so she said she was really good at that.

But her last, next to last job was at the Women's University Club as a waitress, and I'll never forget this one thing. She came home and she said -- well, some of the bigwigs used to go there -- and I don't know if you know who Senator Jackson was but he was a pig. [Laughs] Anyway, she came home livid one day because she had been waitressing when he was there, and he slapped her on the butt and called her a "mamasan." So she was just livid when she came home. Anyway, I've never forgotten that story. But one of the things is that when you've worked at a job a long time, and there comes a point at which that was not her favorite thing to do, she only did it because she had to earn money. And once we were all, the children, me, my two brothers were not under her care or my dad's care. She quit that job. She had had enough, she quit, and she decided she was going to go to beauty school. She was fifty at this time, and we thought that was really old to be changing your mind. But she decided she was going -- which is something she'd always wanted to do from when she was young -- was work on people's hair. I can attest to that because from when I was, like, five, I kind of remember her messing around with my hair all the time. Okay, so she did go to beauty school, and I remember my son Jim, he was in middle school, and he used to help her with the scientific terms and everything, and I was just so amazed that she could go to Spokane all by herself and take the test that she needed to take in order to become a beautician.

So that was her last job, and she worked until probably three weeks before she died. She worked until she was just in her seventies, because she just had to. She didn't earn very much and she didn't get very much in social security, and neither did my dad, because they didn't earn that much. And one of the things that she was really pissed off about, and I can understand because she lived in Kawabe House at the time, and she had some neighbors. And I won't say which ethnicity they were, but they were immigrants, and they were getting more money than she was per month, and she had put all her, every month, she had put money into social security and not getting as much as these immigrants who were getting paid way more than she ever was, who never put money into social security. So she was really pissed off about that. And to expand on that a little bit, I do remember after she said this, that not too long after she sent the story to us, I read from the papers that that actually was true and there was somebody who was really complaining about that in Congress, I don't really remember my source, but I do remember that that was sort of corroborated, what she said. So that was her last job.

CC: And then we're definitely going to talk more about her experiences in camp in a bit, but just broadly, just the same question with your dad. How do you think the camp experience may have changed her or affected her life?

MM: I think that the camp life made her strong. Well, maybe actually started when they moved to Japan, but she used to be a frightened girl, apparently, very unsure of herself. But I think with all the experiences that went on in camp and what she had to... it was trial by fire, for sure. She learned a lot, she was a very independent, strong woman, and my dad was lucky to have her.

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CC: Was there anything else you wanted to tell us about their relationship and how it evolved?

MM: Yeah, right. It's interesting because they did stay married their entire lives, and they had their fights and things, but I think I had more fights with my mom than they ever did together. Or if they did, I just don't remember their fights. I remember her telling my dad that he ought to get mad at me more often, that she didn't want to be the only one on my case all the time, and she always did say my brothers were easier to raise than it was to raise me. [Laughs] But I think that they had a really great relationship because in the end, well, not in the end, I don't how they were when they started going to the races. She made this friend who actually really liked her a lot, but she's already married. [Laughs] And my dad was very, I thought, very nice about the whole thing. And I think she kind of maybe used him because he drove, and he would drive us to Eastern Washington and he would drive us to different places. And my dad didn't drive. Once he tried to drive, and he backed into something that scared the heck out of him, decided never to drive again, so my mom had to learn to drive. So I was in probably middle school -- well, they didn't have middle school, it was junior high then -- when she learned how to drive. Or it might have been even later, I don't remember the timeline. But where was I going with this?

CC: About the races?

MM: Oh, yeah, races. So this person that made friends with her and my family, he used to come over all the time, Ernest was his name. He used to come over all the time and eat with us, and the kids, we couldn't stand him. But we knew that he had to come over because he gave us rides. But he introduced them to horse racing, and they both really liked it. My mom and dad both, and it was a thing that held them together, kind of, and they decided that instead of going out to eat, they would go to the races because they could get money back if they went and it was fun. Whereas if you went out to eat, it was gone. So they always cooked anyway. So they went to Longacres and that's where the whole family got interested in horse racing. And they talked about this, and that was one really fun connection that they had, they could talk about it and enjoy it. But there's a picture of my dad in the P-I, Post-Intelligencer, that's no longer around, and it's half a page, and a picture of him studying the form, racing form. And it was just, to me, an iconic picture because that's what horse racing, people who do horse racing, he's got this fedora -- is that called a fedora? -- you know, the hat, he always wore it, this hat. And it wasn't because he was bald, he just liked wearing this hat. Okay, and he's got his glasses and he's looking at his form and studying, but he made enough money on one race to, for us, or for them, to remodel the kitchen. So that's what they did, they didn't always just frivolously throw the money away, they used it usually for some good. So my mom was so happy to have that new kitchen.

VY: Wow, I love all the stories, that's fantastic.

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VY: I wanted to ask a couple of questions kind of about what you already talked about, just for clarification. And I'm sorry if you already mentioned this, but your parents got married, how old were they?

MM: My mom must have been seventeen. No, just a minute, she might have been eighteen. Yeah, she was eighteen and my dad was eleven years older or so, he would have been twenty-eight, twenty-nine. And then that's what I think if my math is correct, but it might not be correct. But I was born when she was nineteen, but she had just turned nineteen. Her birthday is on the fourteenth and my birthday was on the twentieth, so she's nineteen years older, but just barely nineteen years older than I was. So she was a youngster raising a youngster, but she experienced all this before.

VY: I see. Yeah, things really happened quite quickly for her.

MM: Yes.

VY: One more thing I wanted to clarify, this goes back to your mom's childhood, and when her mom passed away, you said that they were, your mom was in Japan at that time, is that right?

MM: The whole family was.

VY: The whole family was there, okay. So the whole family was in Japan, and during that time, her mom got sick and passed away?

MM: No, she died suddenly, so we don't know what she died of. I'm assuming it was either a stroke or a heart attack. It was like my mom said she just kind of fell down the stairs and she was gone.

VY: Wow. How old was your mom?

MM: I think she was... I don't know how old she was, I just figure she was still in junior high, I don't know. So she was maybe thirteen, fourteen, something like that.

VY: Thank you for clarifying that.

MM: Yeah, I just don't know for sure.

VY: Okay. That's a lot to go through for a little girl. Okay, thank you.

<End Segment 8> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 9>

VY: So let's talk a little bit about your siblings. And how many siblings do you have?

MM: Well, one has passed away, the one that was born in camp. I kind of blame the United States government for that. And my youngest brother, who is Caitlin's father.

VY: Okay. And when were they born and what's, so that's, the birth order is...

MM: My brother Shoji, the one that died, was born... well, I'm not really sure, but it was 1943. But there's some question, because he was born in camp, and maybe Caitlin knows better exactly when he was born, but we always thought he was born October 27th, and that's when we celebrated his birthday. And that's what he thought, he was born on October 27th, so that may be correct, but it may not be correct, I don't really know. And then Alan was born September 20, 1946, so he's five years younger than I am.

VY: Okay. So roughly, you were born a couple years later, two or three years later your brother was born, and another two or three years later, your youngest brother was born.

MM: Right.

VY: And let's see. So we touched on this a little bit earlier when you and Caitlin were talking, but the two oldest children, you and your brother Shoji, were given Japanese names, but your youngest brother Alan wasn't. So I'm just curious why you think that is.

MM: Oh. Well, it's just that my mom liked that name, Claire, and my dad couldn't pronounce it, so she gave me the name "Misa," who was, she had a really good friend from Colorado in grade school, and the neighbor probably or something, whose name was Misa, and liked her. And, in fact, I met her just later in life, I met her recently, the one who I was named after, so that's how I got my name. Oh, and Setsuko, I can't remember exactly what it means, but depending on how it's written in Japanese, it had some really esoteric meaning, which I can't remember. But my mom did tell me that, and I don't know it was spelled in Japanese. And my brother Shoji, I don't know how he got his name, but same thing. It's just that she wanted to name him Glen, I don't know why. [Laughs] And my dad couldn't say the name, so they gave him the name Shoji, and he had just that one name. Like I have Misa Setsuko, my youngest brother Alan has Alan Yuji, but my middle brother was just Shoji, Shoji Oiye. And he would really get mad if people tried to call him Georgie. Remember you had an uncle, I think uncle or cousin or something, JoAnn, her mom's cousin maybe. We were at a party and he asked Shoji if he could call him George, and he says, "No way, just call me Shoji by my name."

VY: That sounds reasonable to me. Well, I would like to now start talking a little bit about your childhood. But before we move on to that, is there anything significant or notable about your brothers that comes to mind that at this point you want to bring up or mention?

MM: How long should we stay here? [Laughs] Well, what do you mean? Because there's a lot to say, I've lived with them all my life, and Shoji died while I was... so how much do you want to know?

VY: Right, that's a hard question, isn't it? Maybe we'll come back to that as we talk about your childhood, things will probably come up.

MM: Well, there's a lot that can come up. Okay, yeah.

<End Segment 9> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 10>

VY: Okay, okay. So let's talk about your early years. You'd already mentioned, so you were born in 1941 and you noted that you were born really, really close to when Pearl Harbor was attacked. So just to sort of place things in chronological order in history, I just wanted to say, so you were born in Tacoma in 1941, the attack on Pearl Harbor happened in December of that year. And then Executive Order 9066 was signed in February of 1942, and then the Pinedale Assembly Center, which is located in Fresno, California, opened in May and then Tule Lake concentration camp, which is located in Newell, California, just south of the Oregon border, also opened in May. So that's kind of the backdrop of what was going on right when you were born. So with that in mind, what happened to your family during World War II, and were you forced to leave Tacoma?

MM: Apparently so. I don't remember any of the moving, or anything like that. I have some memories of camp, as we called it, but I don't remember anything about the move.

VY: Did your parents ever talk about it, like talk about where you were sent right after leaving Tacoma?

MM: No, that's why I didn't... after I actually started learning a few things about it, I realized that actually, most people were moved to other places before they settled into their permanent, where they were actually... I mean, I always thought that we always just stayed at Tule Lake, but I do think we were somewhere else before, and then we were moved to Tule Lake, and I don't know why.

VY: So I think maybe your family might have been sent to Pinedale.

MM: Could be. I have no idea.

VY: And so my understanding is that you were transferred to Tule Lake in July of 1942.

MM: Oh, okay, that's news to me. [Laughs] But I'm glad to know that.

VY: Thanks to Caitlin.

MM: Yes, thank you, Caitlin.

VY: And how long were you in Tule Lake?

MM: I was there until, I think, August or something, of the year I turned four. No, five. I was going to turn five that year. I think I was four when we left. For some reason, a long time ago, I used to think I was three, but I must have been four. Because it was right after we got out of camp that I started kindergarten.

VY: So it sounds like you were in Tule Lake pretty much close to when they shut down.

MM: Yeah. Oh, we were one of the last to leave, apparently.

VY: Around February, maybe, of 1946?

MM: Possibly, I don't know.

VY: And so when you left camp, it sounds like you were roughly four or five years old.

MM: I was four. I for certain was not five, because then I wouldn't have had any trouble getting into kindergarten.

VY: Yeah, okay.

<End Segment 10> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 11>

VY: So we'll get to after camp in a minute. Now I know you don't have a whole lot of memories of when you're in camp, but this is a time in your life when you're advancing from infancy into your preschool years, and that's usually a time of significant intellectual, social, emotional changes. It's usually a time of rapidly progressing language skills, and it's also a time when you begin to notice other children. So with that in mind, I wonder if you have any memories or images or thoughts about Tule Lake?

MM: I do.

VY: Okay.

MM: It's interesting, I have some very vivid memories, actually. Most of it is just sort of general, but there are a few memories that are very, very significant to me. And one is that I don't know how old I was exactly, I had to be probably two or three, maybe even starting four, but there was an orchestra in the camp, and it must have been near where we lived, because I could hear it, apparently. Because my mother would say that anytime the orchestra was rehearsing, she would know where I was. Because I do remember actually, not going there, but I do remember being in the practice session where I was sitting on this wooden floor, cross-legged, listening to the violins and, well, the whole orchestra apparently. But I was only focused on the violins because I was sitting on the floor, and they were, of course, in front of the orchestra. And I was fascinated by their movements and the fingers, and I don't know if I was fascinated by the music or not. [Laughs] But that's where I became interested in the violin, and I would be there all the time when they rehearsed. I don't remember all the times, but I do� remember sitting on the floor listening to the orchestra. Okay, so that's one of my memories.

Another memory I had that's very distinct is that I remember kicking over one of those galvanized cans that they used to have for milk and stuff like that, and I was sure I was going to be in trouble. There was nothing in it, so I didn't get in any trouble, but I do remember that for some reason, weird. And then there are some general memories. Like I do remember I had a friend, sort of, I sort of remember that. And I do remember learning songs. We only spoke Japanese because my parents thought we were going to all be sent back to Japan. And as you might imagine, as a person who in a huge old camp, you don't really know what's going on, and you hear all kinds of rumors and things. So I think they had determined that they were going to be sent back to Japan, and so I only knew Japanese until I moved out of camp and we didn't have to go back to Japan. But that's about all I remember, really.

<End Segment 11> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 12>

VY: It sounds like you do have strong memories, and music was kind of your strongest memory.

MM: Yes. That and the kicking over the can. I don't know why that is so... I guess I must have been really afraid I was going to get in trouble. I do remember learning songs in groups, we had our songs, so I can still sing to you. Because when you learn it when you're little, you remember it. And I don't know, this is kind of a side story, but a friend of mine who also lived in camp, and she has the same sorts of memories. Not exactly the same, but she said, "Did you know that Shirley Temple could sing this song?" one of the songs that we learned in camp, and she knew it's in Japanese. And (she) sent me a video of it one time, Shirley Temple singing this Japanese song in Japanese. I thought that was pretty cool.

VY: I'd like to see that, actually. I was going to ask you that question, if the songs you sang were in Japanese?

MM: They were. They were all in Japanese, and there was one, apparently, that was, I think had something to do with the emperor and we were forbidden to sing that after a while. I don't know what it was and I can't tell you how it goes right now, but it was a really pretty song.

VY: Do you remember things like your mom's voice? Like did she sing to you or talk to you or hum?

MM: I don't really remember that about camp, while she was in camp. But I do know that after we were in camp, one of my most vivid memories back when I was really little is that we used to sing together. And she knew Solfege, I don't know if you know what Solfege is? You know, Do-Re-Mi-Fa-So-La-Ti? She had learned that in Japan, I think, or I don't know, maybe she learned it in Colorado. But I learned Mary Had a Little Lamb and Solfege first. [Laughs] She would sing in harmony and I would sing the melody in Solfege, I didn't know the words. But she would sing, that was one of the things she liked to do. My dad liked to whistle, she liked to sing.

VY: Do you have any memories of your dad while you were in camp? Like interacting with him or hearing his voice?

MM: No, I don't. I have some pictures of him, and there's that one picture, it's just really wonderful. Anyway, he was a good dad.

<End Segment 12> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 13>

VY: How about other kids or toys that you had? Like did you have a favorite toy?

MM: No, I don't have a favorite toy, and I don't remember the friends I played with. There was one girl that I know I played with. I can't remember her name, I don't remember what she looked like. But I don't know if this is the correct place to say this, but when we went into camp, our neighbors, when I was born, who were white, I believe they were white, I don't know why I think that. But they couldn't believe we were going. Anyway, when I was born, they bought, as a group, I don't know who all, but they bought me a present of... what do you call those things? A chest of drawers with an armoire kind of closet thing on the side for children. And since we couldn't take it with us, they saved it for us the whole war. They didn't think that we were going to be there that long because they said, "No, they can't do this to you," and so they saved it. They saved it all those years not knowing whether we'd actually ever be back, but they did in Tacoma.

VY: Wow, did you get it back?

MM: Oh, yeah, my son has it now. And I told him he can't... and Caitlin's going to eventually get it to put it in the archives or something. But it's one of the things that has been saved from that time.

VY: Did you have a chance to open it and look inside?

MM: Oh yeah, I used that for a while, yeah. Because it was not, I mean, it doesn't look brand new because I used it and then I had my son use it when he was born, so I used it a lot.

VY: When did you first receive it? Like do you remember having that as a child or was it something that you...

MM: I don't remember when I remember it, I just know that I've had it for ages, ever, but I don't know remember when I got it.

VY: Okay, it's just kind of been in your family ever since.

MM: Now, I don't know if this is the place to put it, but one of the things when we moved, when we got out of camp... well, you don't want to talk about that yet, about going out of camp? Because I remember coming back on a train.

VY: Oh, yeah, we're going to get there real soon. Okay. Well, actually, anything else about camp just as your own personal experience as a child, memories or smells or feelings?

MM: There's one memory I have, but I don't know whether it was during camp or whether it was in Tacoma when I was born. I just thought it was the strangest thing, and it's gone away, but it was not... it was more a feeling of being held, like cradled. So I don't know if it was... and it was so vivid, I mean, I could just feel myself being held. And it was like that memory, that feeling memory lasted until I was probably in my twenties or thirties, finally I just kind of, now I don't have it. I mean, I have the memory in my head, but I don't have that feeling. It's interesting what your mind remembers.

VY: Yeah, it really is. Was that a comforting feeling?

MM: Oh yes, it was. It was really wonderful, just a feeling of being held. And I don't know who was doing the holding, I assume it was my mom or dad, I don't know, but I always thought it was my mom, probably.

VY: Yeah, I've heard other people who were very young children in camp have those similar memories and feelings, not really being able to place them in time, but some really stuck with them for a long time. So was there anything else you'd like to add in your own personal experience before we move on?

MM: No, I can't think of anything right now.

<End Segment 13> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 14>

VY: Okay. Well, so that was your time in camp, and so let's move on to life after camp. And at this point, we're thinking you were around age...

MM: Four.

VY: Four. So tell me about that. you said you do remember leaving camp?

MM: I do remember the train ride. I thought that was the coolest thing, being on a train. Okay, so I do remember that, not in detail, but I just remember being on a train, it was the first time I'd ever been on a train. And after that, I didn't know this personally, but my mom said that the first place we lived in was a hotel in skid row, and I thought, "You're kidding." I mean, this is when I knew what skid row hotels were like. But I guess we must have only been there a little while, and then we moved to the Montrose Apartments right by the Buddhist church here. And I do have that remembrance. There was a couple of incidents that I do remember. One was that my brother Shoji had walked over to the railing, and he was dangling his feet over the railing, and my mom was scared he was going to fall off. So I don't remember if I actually remember or whether my mom told the story because it was so traumatic. She thought he was going to fall off, so she knew not to yell at him. So she enticed him to come over to her with some food. I thought that was really funny because he always liked food.

And the other thing was that there was an earthquake, and it was the first earthquake I noticed or felt or knew was weird. And I remember walking over on the table and my uncle was there, my mother's brother. He was there living with us, I think, at the time, and he was a great help during our whole entire life. So anyway, he was there, so those are the two things I remember. So we lived there for I don't know how long, I can't tell you, I have no idea. And then we moved to Twelfth Avenue right where juvenile detention is, there used to be a grocery store, we used to cross Twelfth Avenue like nobody's business. And it's just amazing to me that my parents didn't worry about the traffic. We knew how to cross the street without getting hit, because my cousins and I, we would always go over and my mom would ask me to... she would go there and get stuff. I don't know if I should mention this now, but my mom was very, very ill. Should I mention this? After my youngest brother... well, first of all...

VY: Was this related to camp, her experience in camp?

MM: First it started with camp and my brother Shoji being born in the most horrendous way possible, and she didn't heal properly.

VY: Why don't we talk about your parents' experience in a little bit?

MM: Okay.

VY: Yeah, we'll definitely get to that.

MM: Okay. Part of what happened to me after camp is related to what happened during camp. Because like Caitlin's dad, when he was born, my mom hemorrhaged really badly, and she took a taxi over to the hospital and came home, and she had lost so much blood, for the longest time, she just was always dizzy. She had to go back to work right away because we didn't have enough money, so she went back to work right away. So you know, she was always afraid she was going to faint. So my brother and I, Shoji, because my brother was just a babe, Shoji and I, we had this really strong connection. Because we were always together, and we were given a phone number to remember, and we always went with my mom. If she had to go out, we went with my mom, and if she fainted we were supposed to call this number. I forgot the question, sorry.

VY: Well, you know, this is really important, and you're right, this is related to what happened to your mom in camp.

<End Segment 14> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 15>

VY: So maybe let's go ahead and back up and go back to camp, and maybe now is a good time to talk about the experience that your mom had in camp giving birth.

MM: Yeah, okay. The reason I kind of blamed the U.S. government is because we were there in camp. And my mom, I realize now as a grownup how important it is, prenatal care while you're pregnant, what kind of care you get, and how your delivery goes. So she got really big. I was only five pounds something or six pounds, I mean, I was very little. She had an easy birth, and I've always been pretty healthy my entire life. And I attribute that to the fact that she ate a really good diet while she was pregnant with me. But when she was in camp, she had to eat camp food, and knowing how things happened in institutions, kind of, they give you the cheapest food possible, and it's not necessarily healthy. So my mom got really big with my brother. He was like eight pounds, almost nine pounds, which is way too big for her. She was a big woman, but not that big. And so then, when it was time for her to deliver, it was a makeshift hospital in camp. She didn't get out of the camp, she had to go to this makeshift hospital, apparently. And they were having a riot at the time that she was trying to deliver this big baby, and no anesthetic. She didn't have any anesthetics or the thing they give you, I forgot what they're called, to dull the pain. And the doctor, I think was, she said, afraid for his life probably. First of all, there were soldiers coming in with bayonets looking for somebody while she was trying to give birth. So here she is trying to give birth to this very large baby, and they couldn't get him out, so the doctor apparently just pulled him out, I mean, just pulled him out. And I think he wasn't quite ready, I mean, you have to kind of know when to pull them out. And he was just pulled out. She hemorrhaged really badly and the nurses had to -- the doctor, he didn't even sign his birth certificate, sign the birth certificate. And when my brother, when they tried to enroll him in school, they didn't have a birth certificate because the doctor just fled right away. And so apparently the nurses there tried to stop the bleeding and everything. But she lost a lot of blood, but she didn't get any postnatal care. So then when my next brother Alan was born, the doctor told her she couldn't have any more kids otherwise she would die, because she didn't heal properly from the last one. And so she hemorrhaged really badly and so she never had kids after that. And she lost so much blood, one of the things was that she had to take yeast and eat lots of red meat and that sort of thing, but it was really hard on her, the birth thing.

VY: That's such a horrible story, and what a horrible experience for her to go through.

MM: Oh, the reason why we don't know his birthdate is because we always celebrate it on October 27th, but I think your dad, Alan, when they went to a pilgrimage, they said that the riot, oh, there was a riot going on, I forgot to say that, when he was being born, was November 4th. So it might have been that he was born on November 4th and not October 27th, but I don't know. Do we know for sure?

CC: I have some clues that October 27th is probably right, but there was a lot happening in Tule Lake at that time regardless of whether the riots were happening right when he was born or if he was born right before them, it was probably all chaos in the camps.

MM: So we don't know for sure.

CC: I think the 27th is probably accurate. His birth announcement is in the Tule Lake newspaper.

MM: On the 27th?

CC: As the 27th, and this came out on October 28th or 29th, so it was definitely before November.

MM: Oh, okay. That's good to know, I didn't know that. So thank you, Caitlin.

CC: It's probably his real birthday.

MM: It really helps to have somebody who does this kind of work.

<End Segment 15> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 16>

VY: So this obviously affected your mom's health for a long period of time. Do you remember, in addition to it affecting her ability to have children moving forward, if there were any other health consequences for her as time went on?

MM: Yeah. You mean after camp?

VY: Yeah.

MM: There was a lot. I mean, physically there was that, but mentally it was really awful for her. Because we lived in a Japanese enclave kind of, of people that all had the same experience. We were all from the same prefecture, Ehime-ken, and they have this -- I don't know if it's true in all of Japan or just where they were from, but my mom was the youngest of all the women there, there are things that happened that if anything bad happened, she was always blamed for it. It was her responsibility to go around apologizing to everybody for things that happened. So I remembered this one incident. Shall I tell the one about Shoji? Okay, my brother, the one that was born in camp, okay, he was always a risk-taker from when he was really little. Oh, he was one of the first ones. I didn't say this... I'm backtracking a little bit and it has nothing to do with the story I'm going to tell you, but he was the first one to ever be in a hospital, because he had to have, what do you call it? I don't know if it was tonsils or something he had to have taken out and he couldn't speak well. And he also, getting out of camp, he had eczema so badly that my mom had to tie up his hands and on the crib, so he wouldn't be all bloody when he woke up. I just felt so bad, I remember that, seeing his hands all bloody from scratching himself. So he had a really rough life, my brother, Shoji. Anyway, what was I talking about?

CC: We were at...

MM: The main topic.

CC: Her getting blamed for...

MM: Yeah. So anyway, so I think he must have been about five years old, something like that, and he had this idea of going to visit my mom and dad at work at the laundry, and that's in pioneer square, but he knew the way. So he and a neighbor boy, Toshi, who was like a year younger, he was one of the Moriguchi boys who owns Uwajimaya, and they were part of the Japanese enclave there. And he and Toshi, he talked Toshi into going down to go visit Mom and Dad. So they started -- he knew where he was going, but Toshi of course didn't know. I mean, he was scared, he was a year younger, but anyway, they started and they started and they started going down Yesler Hill, that big overpass that goes down to First Avenue, down Second Avenue there. And they got that far, and Toshi started crying. So the police stopped them and Shoji swore to his dying last days that he could have made it had Toshi not started crying. But the police stopped and got them, and by that time, the whole neighborhood knew that they were missing. Okay, so anyway, they ended up at the police station, and so we all found out, I mean, they called the police and said, "Yeah, these two boys are missing." And they were at the police station having ice cream and apples and candy or whatever, and we were all listening and thinking, "Wow, we would like to be there." But anyway, so my mom got in trouble for this. My aunt was the one who was supposed to be watching them, everybody, but it was my mom who got in trouble because he instigated this. He was five or maybe... he was only five, good grief. And so she had to go and apologize to every single person, adult in our little enclave there, and that's just one incident.

And every time there was a problem, she was the one who had to apologize to everybody. Because we lived, my cousins lived downstairs, we lived upstairs at this duplex, and my uncle sometimes lived with us and they would get... this is the part that maybe should be left out until everybody has died. But my aunt, who was supposed to be taking care of us, anyway, they would get really mad because they could hear us walking. And my uncle was very big. I mean, he was fairly big for a Japanese man. Okay, and so they blamed him and blamed my mother for not telling him to be more quiet when he walked. And I remember she was really stressed out because I remember her crying out on the porch. I mean, I remember sitting next to her not knowing why she was crying. So anyway, I just remember that as being... anyway. I used to wet my bed, and I didn't realize until I moved, until we moved out of there that it was, that situation was so stressful. Because I stopped wetting my bed once we moved, and my mother was fine. So I think that the whole thing affected her mentally, I mean, she was so... she told my dad she was going to move no matter what. She said she would take me and he could have my two brothers because she would be able to find a place to live if it was just me, probably. But anyway, so she decided for her mental health, she needed to move out, she was getting really stressed out. So she told my dad she wanted to get out, and she said to my dad that he could come or not. Thank god he was going to go, because I was really worried that he wasn't going to come with us. I just remember feeling really terrible that we wouldn't be a family. So that was the worst thing. But anyway, after that, I was fine once we moved.

VY: Do you have any sense of why your mom was in that position? Like why she was blamed for everything?

MM: Yeah, because she was the youngest. I think that was the only reason, is that she could be blamed because she was the youngest. I mean, I can't imagine any other reason. I would wrack my brain, why would they blame her? She was working hard, she was at work all the time. And it was up to her to apologize all the time. It's not fair, because the person that should have been watching, like my brother, didn't get blamed at all. I mean, they didn't understand that this is what little kids do, and I'm sure my aunt, she had a lot of kids to watch, so I don't blame her totally a hundred percent. I mean, she was under stress, too, and I think the problem with this incarceration of all the Japanese, it was hard on everybody. And so, I mean, later, they got along fine, my aunt and my mom and everybody, they got along. But it was so stressful for everybody just living under those conditions, and who knows what they experienced on the outside, I only knew what I experienced.

<End Segment 16> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 17>

But once I moved, we moved to Rainier Valley, and I was in a mostly white neighborhood at the time, now it's mostly mixed, brown, white, Black, whatever. But in those days it was mainly white. Although where we were, it was more mixed, but the school I went to was mostly white. But I still noticed, I mean, I didn't know about prejudice so much then, because the first school I went to, Bailey Gatzert, we were all Japanese and Blacks. My first friends were all Japanese and all Blacks. There were some Native Americans, and my mom told me this one story where she just was amazed that, because I didn't know that much English right when I started school, that I brought home this Indian, Native American friend, and told her to "wait here" in Japanese, "Matte kudasai." And she said it seemed like she understood. I mean, she did just exactly that. And so she was amazed that little kids could just sort of understand each other even without the same language. So that was interesting for me to transition into learning English, because there was a lot of... what do you call it when there's, in the home, they tried to speak mostly English, but then there would be some Japanese put in there once in a while. And so I remember being really embarrassed at lunch one time, I had some grapes, and I didn't know the English word for grapes was grapes, I called it by the Japanese name, budo. "Would anybody like to share my budo with me?" And they said, "What's that?" So it was a little interesting trying to get back into learning English.

But one of my favorite things when I moved, when we got out of camp was having a book. I had my first book, and it was in tatters. We don't have it because I'm sure it was this thick. It was a book of Mother Goose rhymes and those kinds of things. And at the very end of it was the story about Heidi, it was my favorite story for the longest time. I read that over and over, that story. And I guess because I liked it, I really got to learning to like reading. And one of my favorite books where I really realized I really liked to read was Strawberry Girl by Lois Lenski, when I was in fourth or fifth grade or something... no, I must have been in fourth grade. Yeah, because the person that showed me this book, I was still at Bailey Gatzert. Okay, so anyway, so I learned fairly quickly English, because I was in a high reading class by the time I was in third grade, that it was interesting that I didn't really know any white people except for one girl. And this is going to sound really terrible, like a racist comment, but I didn't know anybody that was white except for this one girl who was, who came to school in rags and had always a runny nose. And I was really surprised when she was in my high reading group because I associated that with being stupid. And one of the worst things you could call another person when you're a kid in Japanese is to call him stupid, "bakatare," baka. And that was the worst thing you could call somebody. So I realize now that, of course, that's a really dumb thing to do, I mean, to associate color with being stupid. I never thought any Blacks or Japanese, I had one Chinese student, none of them were stupid, just this one girl because she was the only white person I knew until I moved to Rainer Valley. And there were all these white people. I mean, oh my gosh, it was really an eye-opener. And my mom, before we moved, she said, "Just be sure you just smile all the time at everybody." So I was well-liked at the new school, but it was an eye-opener for me. But there was some racism, not from the kids, they didn't know they were being racist. But I remember some of my good friends calling me "Jap," and, I mean, they didn't know. I'm sure they heard it from their parents that were... because this one friend I had who called me that, you know, she had really nice parents and they invited me to different things.

VY: I'm sorry, was this at Bailey Gatzert or was this when you moved to Rainier Valley?

MM: This is at Rainier Valley when I met my white friends. I mean, I didn't have any white friends when I was at Bailey Gatzert. And one of things that I would like people to know, educators, I don't know. It's just really weird that when I was at Bailey Gatzert, I got the best education. We were all Japanese, different browns, blacks, and we had, I think what they called the platoon system of teaching. So you were in, what do you call it, in the classroom, in first, second, third grade, you usually stayed in one classroom. But I think it was in the third grade, actually, we started going from classroom to classroom. So we had special teachers, one for music, which was really great, I learned all kinds of songs. And one for math and social studies or something like that, I don't remember how it was divided. And we had our own, we had a special room for art, and a lab that was shared with science. And I had the best education there because we had teachers there who could really apparently do good teaching. I mean, they were really able to prepare their lessons and everything. I don't know how it happened, but I do know that when I went to Hawthorne and you were in the one classroom kind of situation, they thought I was really smart. Well, I wasn't really smart, it was just I had a really good education. And I realized that that's what it was, that it was the education system as it was, which was weird because you think of the outlying areas as having better education.

<End Segment 17> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 18>

VY: At Bailey Gatzert, were your teachers also Japanese American?

MM: No, they were white. They were all white, and that's where I first learned my violin. And really it's just interesting that luck plays so much a role in what happens to you. Because there are all kinds of really... I mean, within the instrumental music teachers -- I can speak to that since I was one -- you have those who can teach and those who can't, and those in between. Well, I had one of the best teachers ever in instrumental music, and he... my mom thought he was next to God, honestly, and he was, practically. Because he started me correctly on the violin. I mean, because you can be taught... you just don't get a good teacher and you sound terrible and everything. But anyway, so I took private lessons the very first summer after that classroom session. And he thought I should have lessons from this teacher at the U, so I had to go audition for him. Well, he came to pick me and my mother up because we didn't drive. So he came to pick us up so I could go audition for this teacher at the U. And so I took lessons from him from when I was ten, I think, or eleven, something like that, all the way through college, he was a professor at the university. And I don't know, nowadays, you would not think of letting your nine or ten year old take a bus all the way one hour, one way, and all the way back, and walk through campus. And in the dark, because I always had to take my lesson after school. But in the winter it'd be dark by the time I came home. And I remember the bus driver, I always had the same bus driver. He said, "I got to hear you play sometime." [Laughs] So anyway.

VY: Yeah, I love hearing about how music just basically is part of your life throughout your whole life.

MM: Oh, yeah, it is.

VY: And I know in a little while, Caitlin's going to kind of talk to you more about your whole education experience. Before we go there, I wanted to back up a little bit and talk about when you left camp, just to clarify, at that time, you didn't speak any English, is that correct?

MM: Correct.

VY: So at home, or in camp, when you were very young, your parents only spoke Japanese.

MM: I believe so. Well, to me, anyway.

VY: Okay. And then tell us about, I don't recall if we actually talked about this on camera, so please tell us about when you got out of camp and you needed to get into kindergarten. Did you say you had to take a test?

MM: Yes, I had to. Well, I don't remember what it all entailed, I just remember my dad taking me there. We walked over to whatever school it was, or I think it was school, I don't know. And I had to answer questions or something, I don't know, and I could only answer in Japanese, and my dad had to translate. So when I was older, I was amazed that they just took him at his word that he was telling the truth, because I knew he wanted me to be in kindergarten. Because I think they do start teaching at a younger age in Japan, so I don't know if he thought that that was something you should do or whether they wanted me to have a place to be so they wouldn't have to worry about me when they were working, because they were both working, my mom and dad.

<End Segment 18> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 19>

VY: Okay. So I just wanted to kid of recap a little bit before we move forward, and so far also we've covered your very early childhood in camp, we covered your family history of your grandparents and your parents. And I wanted to back up a little bit and talk about when you left Tule Lake, did your whole family leave together?

MM: I believe so, I don't recall.

VY: Okay. And then, let's see, so you then, before the war, your family was in Tacoma. After the war, where did you return to?

MM: We returned to, we came to Seattle because my uncle had, my dad's half brother had already come here, and he was looking around for a place to live. And so we didn't come until he actually found somewhere, I guess, I'm not really sure how that worked. But he came out first, and then we came, I think.

VY: Okay. So he came here and he found a place for you to live, and then you all came?

MM: Yeah. We all sort of stuck together, because my dad and my uncle, his brother, were really tight, I mean, really, really tight. They talked to each other all the time. So I think it was important to them.

VY: And so is that when you moved into the duplex?

MM: No. At first we moved into some, I guess, hotel in skid row, but I didn't know until I was later in life, and then my mom told me. And then we moved to, I think it was called Montrose Apartments over here by the Buddhist church, actually, just a couple of doors down or something, and then we moved to the duplex on Twelfth Avenue.

VY: Oh, okay, so it's three places.

MM: Yes.

VY: Okay. Of all those places, what's the first place you actually remember in your mind?

MM: The Montrose apartment.

VY: The Montrose apartment. And can you describe it? Like were you living, was it just your nuclear family or were there other extended family?

MM: No, I think my uncle was, my mom's brother, I think, was living with us. He played, actually, a huge role in our lives. I don't think he ever had to stay in camp, he actually was going to join the army or something. Because I've seen a picture of him in uniform, but he didn't have to go out and fight. I think that the war ended by the time he was going to go and fight. So I don't know if he ever was in camp. If he was, he wasn't in our block or whatever you call it. But I don't really remember him until we were at the Montrose apartment. But I remember him being there.

CC: Do you want to give his name?

MM: Hmm?

CC: I don't think you've mentioned his name yet.

MM: Oh, we called him Oisan, which means "uncle." And his name was, well, his name is Mitsuyoshi Kikuchi, but everybody called him Chun, C-H-U-N, or we as children called him, Oisan. Well, not even just as children, until we were old, we called him Oisan until he died. Whereas my other uncle, in Japan, what they do is they call, they say the relationship, but where they're from. So my other uncle, we would say, "Downstairs no Oisan," because he lived downstairs from us at Twelfth Avenue. But he didn't live there his whole life, but, I mean, that's how he was described. Then we knew which Oisan we were talking about. [Laughs]

VY: Okay. And were there other family members that lived with you or near you in the same...

MM: No.

VY: No, okay. And then then after that, after you left the apartments, then where did you move to?

MM: Twelfth Avenue, the duplex.

VY: That was the duplex?

MM: Yeah. And we lived upstairs and my uncle, Downstairs no Uncle, his family, their nine children there, they had the downstairs.

VY: And how long were you there?

MM: Well, let's see. I think... well, I don't remember. I must have been... I remember I was in kindergarten when we moved, when we were there, because I went with all the kids in the block to school. So I must have been four. And then we moved to Rainier Valley when I was, I think, nine. No, just a minute. I was playing violin at nine, so ten. So how many years is that? No, what did I say?

CC: Six years?

MM: About six years.

VY: And so on that area, what was the racial and ethnic makeup of most of your neighbors?

MM: Where?

VY: On Twelfth.

MM: Oh, it was all Japanese.

VY: All Japanese.

MM: Yeah, we were in an enclave of Japanese. In fact, they weren't just from anywhere, they were all... I think mostly, well, I didn't know all of them very well, because I didn't talk to the adults. But let's see. Our family was from Ehime-ken, and the Moriguchis were from Ehime-ken, and the others, they were there, I assume they were from Ehime�-ken, but I'm just assuming, I have no idea, really.

<End Segment 19> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 20>

VY: Do you remember any kind of activities that you all did together?

MM: No. Oh, well, as kids, you mean?

VY: Yeah.

MM: Because kids, yeah, in fact, I don't know why I didn't mention this. There were some really wonderful things that that actually happened. One is that we used to, well, let's see, I don't know where to start. First of all, I remember one time when we came to the Buddhist church here to watch Japanese, this actress from Japan came over and we went as a family to the church to watch this person, whose name was Midori. I still have pictures of her in my photograph album, and I got her autograph and everything. And I remember walking home and it was so great, it was a nice day. And I was skipping along, it was fun. It was fun, it was just fun. And we sat on these benches, hard benches, but that was fun. And then my cousins and I, I remembered taking tap dancing lessons at the, what's the playfield called? Colman field? Is that Colman Playfield right across the street? Yeah. We used to walk up here and do that. And we had a friend, in fact, she's practically my sister. I've known her, her birthday is just two days after mine. And we used to get together. She lived on East Terrace, and she lives in Bellevue now with a husband. We don't talk to each other a lot anymore, but when we do, it's kind of like old times. I mean, it's like talking to the same person. And she knows my whole family and I know her mom died when she was a hundred. Her mom was really interesting. But anyway, so she wasn't part of... she didn't live in our enclave, but she lived up on East Terrace. And she used to come down and play with us, and she relates when she first met us, she was intimidated because there were a bunch of us. I mean, like I told you, there were nine kids in my cousin's family, and there's me and then there were the Moriguchis and we were all kind of lined up saying hi to Frannie. And Frannie's like the only one there, and she's like, "All these people, all these kids." So we were really, really good friends, and she and my cousin Kinyu and I, we just hung out a lot together, even after I moved from there. And then we lost touch when we were in high school because we were all busy with our own things. And then when we were in college, then we did some things together because we were all at the UW. And then, let's see. We just generally played together a lot, including Frannie. She just came over and played with us because there was nobody up there for her to play with at her apartment. So she's like a sister to all of us.

VY: So great, it was these early childhood bonds that you have with people and it's still with you.

MM: Yeah, exactly, it's amazing. Who knew that I still, well, I didn't know I was going to be living to eighty-two. I thought I'd be dead by sixty-something, probably.

VY: Why did you think that?

MM: When I was young? And then I reached... oh, just a minute, I better not die yet, I'm not ready to die. And then my parents died when they were seventy... well, my mom was seventy-five and my dad was seventy-six. My mom actually should have lived longer. She was the healthier person, generally speaking, but she died at seventy-five and a half or something like that. She died on the same day as my dad's birthday, so I'll never forget that. But anyway.

<End Segment 20> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 21>

VY: Yeah, so as a child -- and this is up until you're, when you're living in this area up until about the age of ten, do you remember if you had any kind of responsibilities in the house? Were you ever expected to take care of your brothers as the oldest child or as the girl, anything like that?

MM: You mean after we moved out, or from when?

VY: This is when you're still on Twelfth.

MM: Oh, no. The only thing I remember about that, my youngest brother, he was just a baby, and I didn't have very much to do with him because he was just a baby. But my other brother, Shoji and I, we did everything together. I mean, we went to the Buddhist church together, we went to the Methodist church together, he came with us when we, I would play with all my friends and they were all girls. But he was a great brother in that he would call them names and stuff if they treated me badly, and I came home crying. He always stuck up for me, and he would actually be not very nice, but he would throw rocks at them if they were really bad, if he thought they were really bad. So, I mean, he should have been punished. But still...

VY: He stuck up for you.

MM: He was like an older brother who was actually younger than I was. Because he was fearless, I mean, really, he should have a little more fear in him. I remember when he was in... can I tell you this? Because he's not here to tell you this, but he was always in trouble when he was in grade school. And the principal would be put in jail if it got out what he did when he did it, but it's not like my brother didn't deserve some punishment, but he was always getting whacked with the paddle. And there was one time when he got whacked so badly that he broke the paddle. And, I mean, that's really pretty awful to whack a kid anyway with a paddle, but the thing is that the principal had no idea about children. Because my mom said that she knew that he had problems, but that if you explain to him why you shouldn't do this, he would stop doing it and he would understand. So he was easy to raise as far she was concerned. But at school, he was a terror. He didn't want to go to school, he must have known that it was going to be terrible for him. And all through school it was hard for him because I was really, I'm not bragging, I was really well-known because of my violin playing. I mean, I was getting out for this and that to play my violin solos, I was out of class a lot of times because of my violin playing. And people knew it, and I was a good student and I liked school. And there was one time in junior high, I think I was in eighth grade, and he must have in sixth grade. Well, anyway, one of the counselors called him in and told him he should be more like me. What's the matter with him, like, "Why aren't you like your sister?" And even then I knew that was not the thing to say to somebody. And so my parents, they were busy, so I asked my mom if she wanted me to go and talk to the counselor because that's not what you say to a kid to get him to behave, especially my brother, oh my god. He would make it worse, I mean, he would just be worse. But she said, no, no, that's okay. And she tried to get him into a different high school because she knew what was going on the schools, but in those days, you couldn't choose your high school, you had to go to the one we were assigned to in the neighborhood that you were in, so he had to follow me, even though high school, which is really awful. And even in high school, one thing, because of my violin playing, the choir teacher -- and I sang in choir is well -- he said, "Oh, you're Misa's brother, you should be able to sing here. I'm going to sign you up for choir." You know, he's not a singer, but he thought, oh, easy A, right? [Laughs] Anyway, that's the way it went.

VY: Hate to live in your shadow.

MM: Yeah, it was really awful for him, I have to admit. And I don't know, it's not as bad for Alan, I think. It was sort of bad, but not as bad because, first of all, he's not as volatile a person as Shoji was, Alan is much more level-headed. But he wasn't born in camp either.

VY: Right, there is that difference, right?

MM: Yeah.

VY: I'm just curious, so when you talked about your brother Shoji being whacked with the paddle, what school was that?

MM: At Bailey Gatzert. I mean, he was just a little kid, right? He was probably only in second grade or something like that, second or third grade. I mean, that's terrible to do that to a little kid.

VY: Do you remember that, seeing that happen to other kids or was it mostly just him?

MM: No, I didn't actually see this, it's just what I heard. Because he was so proud of the fact that he, that the principal broke and he didn't cry. He was not going to cry whatever. And so probably because he didn't cry -- I mean, this is just what I'm assuming -- is that the principal just whacked him harder so he would cry. That's what I'm thinking, I don't know, I mean, for sure. But I do know he was always getting in trouble.

<End Segment 21> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 22>

VY: Let's see. Oh, did your family go to church during this time?

MM: Yes. Mostly it was... well, Alan didn't go, it was mostly my brother Shoji and I, we walked over to either the Methodist church or the Buddhist church, they gave out candy at the Buddhist church, so we liked going there. But one incident I do remember, when my brother and I were going to, coming here to the Buddhist church, we always had our money that you always get, what do you call it?

CC: Tithing.

MM: They didn't call it that, but it's the same thing. And so it wasn't much, it was just a few coins. But I remember we were walking, and these two kids with a big old German shepherd dog stopped us and wanted our money. I was so scared, and so we came to church. And usually when we came to the Buddhist church, he would go to his place, to his whatever, and I would go pick up my friend who lived right next door, Sandra, and her family, and go pick her up. And I went in there crying and they wanted to know what happened, so I told them. And their parents, the mother and father, whoever, was so upset about it that happened to us and wanted to know if I knew who it was. And I said, well, they go to Bailey Gatzert. And so I remember the next, on Monday, when we went, I had to go to the rooms and see if I could pick them out, which I did. And I'm just surprised I didn't get beat up afterwards when I think about it, when I think back now on it. But they didn't come after me for having pointed them out.

VY: That sounds kind of scary. Were you worried about having to identify them?

MM: No, I wasn't. In fact, it's not until I was a grown up that I realized they could have come after me and got mad that I identified them, but nothing happened.

VY: It just felt like the right thing to do?

MM: Well, I didn't have any judgment about it, they asked me to do it, so I did. It was kind of like that.

VY: Let's see. How about sports? Did you participate in any sports or other activities, go to social clubs, that sort of thing?

MM: No. Growing up, I mostly practiced my violin and otherwise just kind of read. I liked to read, didn't do much sports. I liked to play baseball a little bit, but I think I actually sprained my finger here, it's all bent out of shape, and I think I didn't tell my parents. There were a lot of things I didn't my parents because they were busy. And it's not that they wouldn't want to know, I just didn't want to bother them about it. But basically, I didn't do sports. It's not like I couldn't do sports. I remember when I was at Bailey Gatzert they had those things, I could roll around on them, you know, the bars where you hang your leg over and go around. And I think I was pretty good at whatever. I could do jump rope really easily and I remember when we lived on Twelfth Avenue. We had roller skates, those ones that were metal, made out of metal and you could adjust the thing, you put 'em on your shoes, kind of. So one of my friends and I, we would always, there was a hill right by our house, and we'd go tearing down that hill on our roller skates and turn right before we got to Twelfth Avenue. I think about it, I don't know as a parent if I could let my kids do that anymore, I mean, because Twelfth Avenue is so busy now. But I don't know, maybe it wasn't that busy in those days, but it was one of those things that I remember doing that was halfway like a sport, but it wasn't really.

VY: Did you ever get hurt doing that?

MM: No. But my friend did, she got sepsis or something. She fell and scraped her knee, and she had blood poisoning after that. We don't know if it was from that, but we thought maybe we didn't clean it out well enough or something because she scraped her knee on the sidewalk. But I don't know if that was that, it's just conjecture.

<End Segment 22> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 23>

VY: Well, I'm wondering, so you moved from that area to Rainier Valley, and it sounds like the racial and ethnic makeup was very different in the Rainier Valley.

MM: Yes.

VY: I'm wondering what your feelings were during that time, if it was an adjustment for you to make, and I'm also wondering if you could talk a little bit about where you lived. Like did you move into a house, an apartment?

MM: We moved into a house. Where we were, it was, you might say, on the wrong side of the track. Rainier (Avenue) is the dividing point. The people that lived on the east side near to Lake Washington, of course, they were wealthy. One of my best friends that died a couple of years ago, she lived right above Lake Washington, I mean, you could see her family. And she has a sister that will not move from her, that she has a houseboat, she's lived in it all her life since she was an adult. And she has Alzheimer's now and she's four years older than I am. She will not move because she likes the water. And I'm always afraid she's going to fall in the water, but I've been reassured she'd be fine. So we lived on the side that didn't have all that fun stuff, and so they were mostly, they were probably mostly white, but there were some kids that were like maybe mixed. I don't know what they were, I didn't pay attention to that sort of thing in those days. But my brothers had, I think, some friends that were, like, half Native Americans. I don't think they had any Black friends, African American friends. But my best friend from that side of the tracks, so to speak, was white, but that was about it.

VY: And the white kids you happened to know, were they Italian, Irish?

MM: Oh. No, let's see, I have [inaudible], I think she might have been Swedish or Norwegian or Scandinavian of some sort. And she had brothers, and I remember playing with her. But one of my best friends was from the other side, and she... I don't know what she... might have been German, I have no idea. But anyway, her brother had a crush on me. [Laughs] And he used to ride his bike. Every time I'd see him coming, I'd run into the house.

VY: It wasn't mutual?

MM: No, it wasn't. Yeah, it was kind of funny. I mean, really, I would be so shy about that. I don't know what we... you know, just played together, probably. His sister and I were really the best of friends. It's interesting. But yeah, mostly they were white. And then Franklin at that time had a lot of Italians, and I was so involved in music that really I didn't make a lot of really close friends. But my very best friend that I kept until, in fact, she was one of my bridesmaids when I got married the first time. And she just died a couple of years ago. She's Jewish, but she never talked about it very much. I asked her some questions, she didn't like to talk about it, so I just quit asking her. And she was Sephardic Jew, so I don't know what that means exactly. But the rest of the kids basically, I think there were a lot of Italians at Franklin. Some Japanese, some Chinese, hardly any Blacks as far as I can remember. Yeah, it was mostly what I considered white. I mean, I'd never really thought about ethnicities in those days, I mean, that was not a big thing on my radar. I mean, I was into music and everything having to do with music. So most of my friends actually were not from Franklin. I played in the all-city orchestra, which saved me because Franklin had a crappy orchestra, it was really bad, so you wouldn't even call it a group, practically. So it was a good thing it was in all-city, and I got to sit concertmaster from when I was assistant, I was sharing concertmaster, but I was a freshman. But then after that, I sat concertmaster for a couple of years. So when you get to be a concertmaster, everybody wants to be your friend. So I had all these friends from there who were from Roosevelt High School, Ballard, Lincoln, all these different high schools where they had a really good, I mean, I wanted so badly to go to Roosevelt High School. I could not stand high school because I wanted to get into the university where I would know more people in music.

And every summer I would go to Summer Music Institute at the university, and so I knew my way around the university all over before I even went there as a student, as a regular matriculated students. So it was really a fun thing for me to see all these people, but they were all white, just about all white. In fact, there was one person, Gary Nakayama, who was Japanese. Other than that, there might have not been anybody else that was other. And even our conductor, I remember one time... you know, god bless him, Dr. Chapel, he is loved by everybody, I mean, he is really amazing. But I was really shocked, I was sitting in the orchestra. I was not sitting first chair, I was sitting somewhere in the first violin section. And we were waiting for this soloist to come who was from the Japanese consulate, he's Japanese, and he sits in front of everybody. He was a little late coming, this kid, I mean, he was just a little, he was a kid, he wasn't like high school or college or anything. And so Dr. Chapel says, "Where's that that Jap kid?" Everybody... and I'm going, oh my god, and I could hardly look him in the face. And for a long time after that, when I saw him in the hallways, he'd be friendly, it was just his way of speaking, I guess. I could barely look him in the face for a while until I realized that he doesn't... I don't know if, maybe he wasn't trying to have a racial slur there, but it came out as such, and the rest of the kids knew. I could tell that they knew that that was not right. And I knew for sure that that was not right. I thought that was really terrible. So anyway...

VY: That must have been so shocking.

MM: It was, because I thought we were all over that kind of thing. And by then, I knew about racial inequality and racial slurs and that sort of thing. When I was younger, I didn't really pay attention to it that much. So I didn't know where these... as a musician you sort of are aware of certain feelings, but you can't necessarily place a name to it. So I think I've always had a sort of feeling, if somebody is antagonistic or not friendly, I could tell, but I would never know why. And I never put it together as a racial thing, and in fact, when I bought my first house, I was shocked. When I thought about it later... well, first of all, when I bought house, it was in 1973, okay. The person that helped me buy the house, I mean, the real estate, he was a real estate agent, he just lived a few houses down from where I bought the house. He says, "Oh, well, you'll probably be married in a couple of years." He says, "You know, a few years ago, you wouldn't have been able to buy the house, because they didn't let women buy houses then." And then I found out later, you (couldn't) even have a credit card when you were, in the 1970s. Okay, so that was one part, just being a female is shocking. And then, but more to the point of racism, it was after I'd lived there a few years, this neighbor across the street, Dick, it was a couple that lived across the street, Dick and Jane, anyway. So Dick, bless them, they're both dead, they both died. But he told me that there was a person up the street who wanted to know "who that Jap gal was." Luckily, I didn't know that person. But for the most part, they were nice, and I moved into that area because I wanted Jim, my son, to go to View Ridge School, elementary school. Because I knew he was smart, I didn't want to have him just slide through in a public school, never studying, because he didn't have to. I mean, he could just slide by and get away, probably straight-As. So I wanted him to go to View Ridge (Elementary). Of course, that summer, they're talking about bussing everybody and I'm thinking, "I just bought this house so he could go to View Ridge." If he's bussed to a south end, I'm going to be really pissed off. I was very young, and I looked really young for my age in those days, I probably looked like I was sixteen. And anyway, everybody else, all the other mothers looked their age. So I was thinking, well, I should probably go talk to somebody and say maybe he can stay because he's not, he's a minority. He may not be Black, but he's a minority. But I didn't have to, because they made it so that View Ridge didn't have to go. But you know why? The mayor lived in that district. I don't know if it had anything to do with that, I'm just wondering. It's just something I thought about. But I didn't have to do anything about it and he did go to View Ridge. But it was a mostly white neighborhood and I don't know if it was good or not for him, I have no idea. Because I wish he knew more Japanese people, but one of his best friends is a Chinese.

<End Segment 23> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 24>

VY: You know, as you're talking about, throughout your life, I'm wondering if this question I'm about to ask you maybe changes a little bit. But I'm wondering, specifically when you were a child, how connected you felt to the Japanese American community? Because you did move from more of a Japanese, American Japanese neighborhood --

MM: That's a good question.

VY: -- to more of a white neighborhood.

MM: It's a very good question, okay. Not much at all. I didn't have... first of all, I had very bad feelings about the Japanese community after we moved out because I started realizing what happened to my mom. And also there was enmity going on between people who answered "no-no" versus the Japanese... what's that group called?

CC: JACL?

MM: JACL, yeah. And my parents didn't have very much good to say about them because they were always on people like my dad and my mom who answered "no-no." So I didn't have very good feelings anyway about that, and I think just, I didn't realize this at the time, but I think that part of the reason I felt so disconnected from the Japanese community at that time was because of what I went through when we lived in that area, and how it was so much easier to live with white people than it was to live was to live with Japanese people. But that's because I think, in our community, things were so regulated and so, I mean, it just seemed like you had to do this, this and this. And that might be why I actually seemed smarter when I got over to Hawthorne. Because, I mean, really, when we played and when I lived on Twelfth Avenue, we played school. And my cousin, the oldest one, was always the teacher, and she would be on your case if you didn't get it right. I mean, things like that. And you always felt in competition with everybody else, and I didn't feel like I had to be in competition with all my white friends. So if any competition happened, it was with my white friends and music, but it wasn't a bad competition, it was like, for me, it was just a scary thing. I'm not a competitive person, I'd rather back away than to actually compete. I don't want to compete, I just want to enjoy my music, and that's why I'm not a soloist like everybody expected me to be. Because I knew, when I was really young, that I didn't want to tell my teacher that, but I said, "I'm not going to be a soloist." I'll be a teacher, but I'm not going to be a soloist. And he told my mom, "Well, she's not going to be a soloist," because I had played with a major symphony orchestra by the time I was sixteen. So, yay, thank god. [Laughs] But I still liked music and I like it... I think I've had a really good life being able to be in a field that, make money in a field that I really enjoyed and didn't mind working at. Although it was hard; musicians don't make very much money unless you're at the top.

VY: You know, I do want to talk to you more about some questions about identity and when you first became aware of things, but I feel like now is a good time to kind of hand it over to Caitlin and talk about your education and your career.

MM: Okay.

CC: I mean, I think we've talked a lot about elementary school up through high school. So you went to Bailey Gatzert and then when to Hawthorne, and you went to Franklin High School. Was there a middle school? You said there wasn't middle school at that time, it was junior high?

MM: Yeah, it's a junior high, so I went to Sharples. It's now called Aki Kurose.

CC: Oh, yeah. And you never went to Japanese language school?

MM: I did.

CC: Oh, you did?

MM: Yeah.

CC: Can you tell us about that, and when you went?

MM: Well, it was right after we got out of camp, or soon after, I think, because I still sort of remember it. It was, let's see. I think I was going to the Buddhist church. Anyway, I went to Japanese school every Saturday for, not like a long time, maybe a year at that.

CC: Short time?

MM: Yeah. So I learned how to spell my name and a few things, but I've forgotten. I still know how to spell my name, I think.

<End Segment 24> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 25>

CC: I guess I kind of want to move, just, into music. So kind of touched on it throughout the interview already, but can you maybe just tie it all together again, like how you started, when you started, how you chose the violin?

MM: Okay. So, well, first of all, in Seattle, when you're in fourth grade, they go around and give you what they call a "seashore test" to test how well you do in hearing, distinguishing sounds and everything. So they come around, the music teachers come around, show you the different instruments and if you've been chosen as one who actually passed the test -- and I was afraid I wouldn't pass because you had to fill those bubbles in, and I wasn't sure I understood how to do that -- but I guess I passed. And so I remember Mr. Kaiyala coming in and giving all the, showing all the instruments. And there's this one really shiny instrument, saxophone. So I went home and I told my mom, "I think I want to play the saxophone." She says, "No, you don't want to play the saxophone, you've always wanted to play the violin." I used to call it ping-ping when I was in... I didn't know what it was called, so I called it ping-ping when I was in the camp. Okay, "So you should just take violin." In those days, the families had to pay ten dollars for the year for a lesson, you had to get your own instrument, which is really different from now because everybody's given anything they want, practically. But so my parents, they had to sacrifice a lot in order for me to have ten dollars, to give ten dollars for the entire year, had to buy my violin. And so I started taking lessons from Mr. Kaiyala one year in school, and then one year private -- not one year -- one summer of private lessons, when he then took me to Mr. Sokol to be auditioned to see whether he felt I was worth it. Because he was going to have to, I'm sure -- they never talked about this -- but I know in my head that he's a real philanthropist, so I know that he probably gave my parents a really huge discount for private lessons. Because a university professor, they're not going to just charge a little bit, they're gonna charge the most they can. So I think he just did my parents a favor and got that going for me. And Mr. Sokol and, well, Mr. Kaiyala at first, he did everything he could to get me to where I could be with Mr. Sokol.

And the deal was that my mom and Mr. Sokol... my dad, he didn't really care. He said, "If you don't want to play, you don't have to," which was a real counter thing, because then I didn't feel all that much pressure. Because I always knew my dad would be on my side if I wanted to quit, but I never wanted to. And so one of the deals that Id' have to make with my mom was that, okay, I can have violin lessons or I can have clothes. "If you want lots of clothes like your friends at Hawthorne might want, you can't take violin lessons." Well, I always chose clothes, I mean, chose to play violin. And so my mom could always bring that up if I didn't practice. She says, "Well, you know, it's really costing us a lot of money, so if you don't want to play, and if you don't want to practice, you know what? You can just give it up." So I've always wanted to play. And so right away, it was pretty easy for me. Nowadays, I wouldn't stack up to any of the kids. I mean, pedagogy has gotten so good that little kids can play amazing things. And you know how I looked really young for my age, anyway, I probably looked like I was five when I was eleven.

<End Segment 25> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 26>

CC: Just to kind of clarify, so you were at the University of Washington taking private lessons?

MM: Yeah.

CC: So he was a professor at the university.

MM: Right. So I had to take the bus, which was an hour's ride from Rainier Valley to the university at that time. And I had my landmarks so once I got off the bus, I would know which way to go. And I had to see the flagpole and walk down the quad to the music building. So that was fine, I mean, I wasn't scared or anything. I'm thinking that my mom might have been scared and my dad might have been worried. But then after the first few times, you know, that you can do it. And it was a great time because I remember on the bus, I saw all sorts of things, and I could do my homework a little bit on the bus, but it was not bad. And Mr. Sokol was like a second dad to me. He saw me grow up, because I was eleven when I started taking from him, or ten, I don't remember. Anyway, I was either ten or eleven. And he and my mom thought I was going to be a soloist, because I was playing solos then and doing really pretty well. Everybody in the school district knew who I was because of my violin playing. I mean, people in other schools, because the instrumental music teachers talk about their students. So I knew that they knew me, and it was really interesting because one of the reasons why I decided I didn't want to do this solo thing, I had this really terrible experience and I never told my parents, I never told Mr. Sokol until he was ninety-five and was going to die and I thought he ought to really know what happened, why I decided I didn't want to be a soloist. So do you want to hear this?

CC: Yes.

MM: So I was in junior high school, I was in seventh grade, I think, and I had to go play for a ladies' club or something, and there were a bunch of other kids from the school that also went to do it. But I was doing this solo, and I was the only one in the middle of the room, and my pianist was way down there. And before I went, the day before, I had a substitute teacher in music. I won't give you his name, he's really terrible and I blame him for everything. No, not everything. But he said, he asked me if I got nervous and I said, well, yeah, I got a little bit nervous before I would play. But he said, "Well, if you get nervous, don't think about the music, think about ice cream or what you're going to have for breakfast or something." And I thought, well, that's interesting. So guess what? I'm up there playing and I'm thinking about everything but the music, and suddenly my mind comes back to the music and I don't know where I am because I haven't been thinking about the music. I was playing by muscle memory. I played that piece so many times, I could play it, my muscles knew what to do. Okay, so I'm so embarrassed, and I'm eleven years old. I can't talk to my pianist who's way down there. Well, if I were older, I would know enough to go over there and say, "Sorry, I forgot this, let's just start here." So I didn't know what to do, I was just shaking so badly and I wanted to hide under the stage. And my hands were shaking really badly, and I didn't know that my hands could shake so badly. And afterwards, nobody told me how great I was, except one person said, "Wow, you had a really great vibrato." And I'm thinking, that was no vibrato, that was my hand shaking, it was out of control vibrato. So then when I knew that I could have a lapse of memory and not know where I was and I would have to stop, that's no way to be a soloist, and I was not going to go through this again. And after that, every time I played a solo, my hands would shake, both hands. Well, no, just this hand. This arm was still pretty good.

So that was when I decided that I wasn't going to be a soloist. I didn't tell Mr. Sokol, I didn't tell my parents, which I should have. My teacher was there, she didn't come and comfort me and she didn't tell me that it was okay, that this sort of thing happens. Made me a better teacher, actually, because I know things that can happen. So it was then that I decided not to be a soloist. So then when I was sixteen and Mr. Sokol said to my mom, "I don't think she's going to be a soloist," because I hadn't played with a major symphony by then, not even the Seattle Symphony. Although by then I had played for Mr. Katins, who was the conductor. And he had a great memory. He always remembered who I was even as I grew up, but never played in the symphony. So that was going through my school years, and I went and played in all the northwest orchestras.

And I had great friends from playing in music, that's where most of my friends were, from that, and they were mostly white. So that kind of skewed my relationship with my Japanese friends, but I still had Frannie as my friend, and my cousin, Kinu, we were still friends. So it's not like I rejected all Japanese because they were Japanese, it's just that I didn't feel comfortable with them. Because we didn't talk about music. I wanted to talk about music and play music. I played music oftentimes, my Saturdays were taken up by playing music. So that was basically it until I got married. I mean, basically that's all I did, just played music. And it was so much fun, and there's so much to do with music. And I always tell Jim, my son, "People can pass on money as legacy, but you know, I heard that legacy can be something else, that can be music." And he agreed. I passed on the love of classical music to him, so I'm really proud of that, that he understands that. Doesn't make a ton of money, but oh well, he's enjoying his life, so that's really good.

<End Segment 26> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 27>

CC: Well, let's... just to check in with college. So you went to the University of Washington?

MM: Yeah.

CC: Did you go for music?

MM: I was going to, but then I realized I was going to have to do a senior recital after I did my junior recital, and I didn't want to do a senior recital because that would be a whole lot of practicing as much as I should have, because during my college years, I found such freedom in being in college and not being at home. I mean, I was at home, but I didn't get home 'til like 12:01 in the morning, because I� used to play for the Washington, I don't know what it's called. But we used to do musicals at night, and it was my extra kind of money, because you didn't get paid much. But if you played in the orchestra for the musicals, you got paid, and it was always fun because they always had parties and things. But I found my freedom there, sort of, of just being able to have boyfriends, for one thing. It's not like I didn't know boys before, but it was like a freedom that I hadn't had. My parents, they didn't know all the stuff I was doing, and oh my god, it was so much fun. But because of that, I think that's one of the things, when you grow up playing classical music, you spend so much time practicing and doing just your music, that when you see there's this other part to life, you go all out and it's not good, because in college is when I should have been practicing three or four hours a day. And there were people who did, and I couldn't compete with those people who were practicing and practicing, and I was just having fun. Not a good idea, and I got married when I was a junior, and that's when Mr. Sokol gave me my first B, because I hadn't practiced enough. But it was interesting because I was married to Nori, and he was proud of me for the fact that I played violin, and he met all my music friends. And it was like a brotherhood, sisterhood. I mean, if I were ever to go back for a reunion --� I don't want to go to a high school reunion, I've never been to one -- but if they had one for the university, I'd go in a second, like that, because that's where all my friends were, in the music school. And Dr. Chapel, who I told you about, he was the one who helped do this party every summer, where all the music majors would get together and we had this huge old party out on the lawn, so it was fun. But anyway, that was so... I got my first job in music, and I've done that my entire life.

CC: So that's kind of where I was going to go next. Do you want to kind of talk about all the different ways you've...

MM: Earned money?

CC: Earned money doing music over the years?

MM: I know, and I feel so terrible sometimes because I was having fun, and I might have neglected my son a little bit because I was so busy trying to earn enough money. But it wasn't in a bad way that I was earning money, I should have spent more time at home, probably. But my first job was doing strolling violin at the Olympic Hotel, which was really fun. And it was a good thing for me because when I was taking lessons, I was always at the very edge of not being able to play my pieces, because they always take you to that place when you're taking lessons. When you're doing strolling violin, it's really easy music, and so all you have to do is have a memory, I mean, you just have to just play everything by memory. But after a while, that's not even a problem, and you had this freedom to play without having to worry about technique or anything, you could just play freely. So that was really great. And I did that until they had to close the Golden Lion because of economics or whatever. And I think Rosemary and I were the last two standing players. [Laughs] I played to the end. Let's see. After that, what did I do after? Oh, well, after that, I was teaching. I got a job teaching because I got divorced and I knew I had to teach. I mean, because I wanted a teaching job so that I could have my vacations with Jim, and it would be stable, I thought. [Laughs] It's not as stable as you would think.

<End Segment 27> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 28>

CC: Was that with the Seattle Public Schools, was that when you first started?

MM: Yeah, Seattle Public Schools. Although all my life I've been teaching privately, I might only have one or two, but at one point, I had twenty private students. So I was doing public school teaching which was interesting because then I was on the same level as Mr. Kaiyala, I mean, we were colleagues, and I had to call him by his first name, and that was really hard for me to do. But what was really hard to do was call Mr. Sokol by his first name. I never could. When Jim was in the hospital and he came to see Jim, he says, "You got to call me Bill." I said, "I don't think I can." Because his name was Vilem Sokol, everybody that's an adult called him Bill;." He's Mr. Sokol to me. And so he says, "Okay, now, on three, call me Bill. One, two, three." Nothing. [Laughs] I said, "I'll try it again," and I called him Bill once. I've never been able to call him Bill. In any case, where was I going with this? Anyway, so I did teach in public schools, well, all the instruments except I didn't teach oboe or some exotic instrument, all the other instruments, so that was my main job. But then I would, after that, let's see, what did I do? Oh, I retired. [Laughs] But no, while I was also teaching, because it didn't pay enough as a teacher, I didn't get paid enough really as a teacher. So I also took other jobs, three months, playing. You get paid for playing in different orchestras, sometimes you get calls for being a ringer in Yakima or Wenatchee or wherever. And Juneau, in fact, I played up in Alaska. And I'd get to do that, and I also played in quartets where we got paid and we had to negotiate our pay. And different smaller orchestras, I mean, that performed around here -- it's hard to explain -- but there were different people who tried conducting and wanted to have a paid orchestra. So I'd get called and I never had to audition, that was the nice thing, because I didn't have to audition because I knew other people. And one of the important things when you're in this line of work is having a chain of people that you know, and so everybody knew me from college and how I played already, so they didn't have to audition me. So it's by word of mouth mostly.

The one time I did audition for the Seattle Symphony, I was really worried, so I took lessons from Mr. Eisenberg, who was the second violinist in the Philadelphia String Quartet. And he was sure I was going to make it, but you know what? I got in there, it's the only time I ever auditioned, and I thought, "If I screw this up, I'm going to really be pissed off." But the thing that I was really happy about was that I didn't break down and start crying. Because you go in there, and you go onstage, there's this guy with a stopwatch, there's a committee behind this curtain, and there's this guy sitting over here who I knew, Morrie Simon. He's in the symphony, and he knew I was playing. I was so, so nervous that I couldn't finish my two minute solo. I got maybe a little over halfway and I started hyperventilating, so I couldn't finish. So I knew I wasn't going to make it because you have to do your two minutes. But they made me actually do the other orchestral stuff, too. I don't know why, because I knew that I was going to be called back as a finalist, but that was the only time I had to actually audition. But I was told that if you're going to audition, you really need to do a bunch because it's a practice. You have to practice auditioning, and I hadn't had that practice. But when I graduated, if I had just auditioned then, I probably would have made it because I was the top of my form, but you had to have money to actually join the musicians union and you couldn't audition until you actually joined the musicians union. And I thought, what if I pay all this money and I don't make it? I'll have wasted all this money, and I couldn't ask my parents for that money, and I couldn't ask Nori for that money because he didn't have any money, I mean, he was in school. So I thought, oh, forget it, I just won't play in the symphony. But that was it.

CC: Didn't you play with Quincy Jones at one point?

MM: Oh, yeah, that was one of my freelance...

CC: One of your gigs?

MM: Yeah, gigs. I used to play with, that was the thing, if you belonged to the... finally I did join the union because I had enough money from my teaching. But you had to be in the union to play these gigs, and so I got called for Quincy Jones, Ray Charles, Dionne Warwick, Gayle whatever her last name was, the one with long hair, really long hair. And so different people, and those were fun, and you got paid a lot. I mean, they paid really well. And then I even played once for a studio job for Alaska Airlines, and then just went in for twenty minutes, did the job, got residuals for, I don't know, two years, which was really nice. It ended up paying a lot, because you only did the twenty minutes and then you were out and getting residuals. But that's very hard to do.

<End Segment 28> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 29>

CC: Did you ever... I mean, you kind of talked about your one experience with not racism, but with the "Jap "thing. Over the course of your career in music, did you ever feel, like, either sexism or racism that really affected you?

MM: You know, the era I grew up in, I didn't realize at the time that these were sexist things or racist things. But now that I look back, I realize that I don't think they were doing it in a mean way, it's just that they didn't know that it was sexist or racist either. But I remember this one band leader, we were playing this job, and I'm really a pretty good sight reader. And he says to me, he says something about, I can't remember, being Japanese or, yeah, he said something about never having had any Japanese players, and that I'm really a good sight reader and violinist. And he was like, "Wow," he says, "you're really good for Japanese." It was like, what do you say? I mean, "Yeah, I'm really good." [Laughs] And so that was one thing. And there were things that, in music, you don't know whether it's racist or just not being beautiful enough or being free enough to do some things that an ordinary person wouldn't do because you're out on the road. You know, you can just take it from there. It can be a very dicey thing. But that might have more to do with sexism than racism, because I don't think that racism played too much into things.

But I don't really know, because I wasn't really thinking about that sort of thing until more recently really. In fact, I had no idea. I still don't know to this day whether... well, I asked my friend Pat, who's Black, I said, "Shall I say Black or African American or what?" She said, "Oh, either is fine." So I still don't know, really, what I should say. So now I've decided the problem is what's behind the intent of the word. How do you say the word? Because if you're just confused as to what you're saying, it's not being racist, it's just you don't know what to say. I think she understood that, so I don't know if she said that just to me because I was just confused. [Laughs] Or whether she really didn't care, I don't know.

CC: Well, what about at Seattle Public Schools? Was there ever any issues there?

MM: Oh, yes. Not for me, but I noticed the kids. Okay, people were pretty nice to me except for one principal, which I won't get into, because I was going to take him to court, practically. I mean, this is in Bellevue, and he was one of these old guys with, it was ninety degrees outside, he has on a suit with a tie. I'll tell you about this because it really pissed me off. I mean, as an instrumental music teacher, you go into school, I mean, your itinerary, you don't stay at one school all day long except in Seattle, if you have a big enough enrollment, then you can stay in one school for that one day. But in Bellevue, as I was just a string teacher, I had this one school, and I won't name the school and I won't name the principal, but I went in there and -- as a new teacher. Not new teacher, but new to that school. And they wanted me to teach in this room that had phys ed equipment in there, and I had to move the stuff because they hadn't moved it. And so I went in and complained, and I said, "You know, I have half an hour, I have to set up my music stand and my chairs, I don't have time to do their stuff, they should put their stuff away and put their tables away." And so he said he would take care of it. So that was fine. I mean, I asked nicely. So the next time I come, none of it is done. So I went in there and I said, "You know, it's still out there. Why hasn't it been done? It's taking away from my teaching time, and I'm not here that long." He started yelling at me. He said, "You're lucky you have a place to teach." And I said, "What?" and we started yelling at each other because I couldn't control myself, I was so mad. And I didn't know if he meant because I was Japanese or because I was a music teacher. I mean, I didn't really know, because he was not pro-instrumental music either. But I think it sounded like it was because he's not, I mean, he was a racist. So I started crying, because when I get that emotional and mad, I start crying. So I went over to the general music teacher, because I couldn't go into my room and see that, I didn't want my kids to see that I'd been crying. So she said, "You know, he's got a lot of grievances against him and you should add your thing to it," because she thought it was really awful. So I was going to do that, but then I didn't because he came in and apologized. I guess he realized what a horrible mistake he'd made. So that was my one really racist thing that I pretty much think is racist towards me. I have seen it towards my kids, some of my students.

I know one Black student who was at a school in Ballard, and she wasn't bussed in, she just came to that school, I think. Anyway, she was a really good student, quiet, and there was some problem at the school about somebody stealing something. And at the lunchroom, I'm not there all the time, I mean, I'm only there once a week. So I hear this thing, well, they thought it was this Black student. I'm thinking, no, she's a nice student, she's quiet. And so I was really mad that I can't do anything about it, I mean, I'm just a lowly teacher, right? And I only have her one period per week, half an hour, so I'm not going to have any sway.

And then another time, in a Ballard school, there was one Japanese boy who was a really good clarinet student. He was really nice and he's very, you know, just a really nice kid. And this teacher had him up against the wall, shaking him, and I said, "Just a minute. Are you okay? Do you want me to speak to anybody?" He didn't want me to cause any trouble, because I think he thought these other kids would then make more trouble. But I felt really terrible about that, but I didn't know what to do. I was just too young at that time to know what to do. And I still don't know to this day what I should have done, because I didn't want the kids to beat up on him because he told on them, so that was it.

Oh, and there was one other incident where, actually, I was attacked by, not attacked physically, but these kids were lined up in a row in a Ballard school. Honestly, there were more, at that time, there were more racists over there than anything, I tell you, anyway. So this kid, this boy, he says something to me about, I can't remember all the things he said, but he called me a "Jap" right in front of everybody and his teacher and everything, he was lined up. And I was on my way to one of my classes, I didn't have time to stop and talk to him and say to his teacher, "Are you going to do anything about this?" because I had my class to go to. But it kind of shocked me that a little kid would do that. But I'm sure it was because probably his parents talked that way. Not that all people in Ballard are that, I mean, I've met so many good people there now. They're really some of the most liberal people, I mean, really nice.

CC: I grew up in Ballard.

MM: Yes, I know. [Laughs] But I was really shocked that a little kid would have that nerve to talk to an adult like that. But I think that's all I can remember in terms of racism in the school.

<End Segment 29> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 30>

CC: I just have one last question with the music. Do you have a favorite memory in your own time working, or like a favorite student that you worked with?

MM: I have so many kids that I loved working with. But one that really stands out in my mind right now was this kid... well, actually at the spring concert, his mother came up to me, gave me a bunch of roses, and, "Oh, why am I getting all these roses?" She said she was really grateful because her son, the only day of the week that he actually, she didn't have to fight him about going to school was the day he had me for a teacher in violin, he was one of my violin students. But in those days, I don't know why he was the only one in my class. I was, I think, giving him private lessons, practically. And I don't know why, but I think he might have been a special-ed student. I'm not really sure because I never asked. I mean, they were just my students and I just took them as they were. But she was really pleased, and I was really pleased with myself that... not myself, but that I had that effect that it helped her to not have to fight with her son to go to school every day. So that's one of my favorite memories, and even in the south end, there's so many really good memories, you know, where they don't have the background. But for one thing, I remember at one of the schools they would have, I think, a teacher appreciation day or week or something. They had this store, and one of the kids -- you know they don't have very much money -- and I still have it, it's one of my favorite things. It's a little troll this big. You've seen it, yeah, with the pink hair, I keep it. It's one of my favorite pieces of things I've gotten from students, so that's one of the good things. And you think kids in that area wouldn't be very good, but, I mean, some people wouldn't just because they're south end. Even kids know about south end schools, right? They don't have the opportunities that the north end schools have. And I've had some really great north end students, I mean, great orchestras and stuff.

[Interruption]

VY: Actually, before we leave music, I'm just curious if there's a particular piece of music that you really just kind of go to that you either like to listen to or like to play or sing when you just want to feel better?

MM: Oh, there are so many. Yeah, somebody asked me who's my favorite composer. It changes all the time, it depends on who I last heard. [Laughs] But I can say there are several that are my favorite composers. And if I listen to KING-FM when I'm driving, there are times when I wish I were at a stop sign so I wouldn't get home too quickly, so I could hear the whole thing. But there are things in classical music that take you away from yourself. You don't have to think about your problems, it just, like, transports you to an area that you wouldn't be able to visit otherwise, and it takes you away from your problems. And I know, like this friend of my first husband's who had never heard classical music much. And because he knew I was, he knew that his friend was marrying me, who was in classical music, he went into a dark room, apparently, one time, and closed his eyes and listened to the Beethoven violin concerto. He found himself crying, he said it was so beautiful. And that's the way it is with classical music.

<End Segment 30> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 31>

VY: I'm wondering, do you think that you had that same experience as a child in camp when you listened to the violin players and you were so...

MM: No, I don't remember, actually, the music part of it. What I remember is the physical, seeing them move their hands, and I might have been moved by the music, but I don't remember that. I remember more the physicalness of being amazed at what they were doing with these things, instruments.

VY: That's so interesting. So it's more like kind of the visual, it's more of a visual impact than an auditory impact.

MM: Right, at the time. But I've always liked music, and, in fact, I was always good at it. Even in kindergarten at Bailey Gatzert, when I really couldn't speak English and couldn't get good grades in anything but music. I guess she wrote on my report card how I was at music. And I was lucky, this is where luck comes in, because I mean, at that school, we had a special music teacher, she was really good. I learned all the songs that a lot of kids don't know anymore, because they don't have music teachers. I know all these folk songs, they learned all these folk songs, all these Christmas songs. I'm not particularly Christian, but I love Christmas music, and all those, "Jesus Loves Me, This I Know," I mean, I know that one and I like it. There are lots of songs that I've liked in my entire life, even as a little kid. Because even the Japanese songs I learned in camp, I remember them. And I like watching NHK because it's bringing back all those memories. Do you know about NHK? Yeah.

VY: Do you think learning the songs in Bailey Gatzert, do you think that helped you learn English, too?

MM: Oh, possibly, I don't really know how that works. But it could be because there's something about, well, one example I'll give you. This isn't exactly tonal music, but music is composed of tones and rhythm. And I remember when I went to Hawthorne, and one of the things that made everybody in my area think I was smart, was I could spell "scissors." But the reason I could spell "scissors" was because it has a rhythm to it: S-C-I-S-S-O-R-S. Okay, if I had to actually stop and say the letters and think it, I probably wouldn't be able to spell it. But because I can say it in rhythm, you know, it's easy for me. And I think that's true for me with a lot of things. If I can say it in rhythm, I can do it. People's minds work differently, so that might be just my mind that is able to do that. Because there are some things I really can't do.

VY: That's fascinating, isn't it, the way all our minds work differently?

MM: Yeah.

VY: Anything else you want to talk about in terms of music before we move on a little bit in your timeline?

MM: Oh, there's more? No, I can't think of it. Well, okay, so I think the only thing is that I had a stroke when I was, how old was I? Seventy-four or something like that, and that made me depressed for a couple of years because I really couldn't play my violin, and I still can't really very well, and I'll never be able to play. And part of it is just getting older. But I realized now that need to move on, and that it doesn't define who I am totally. I mean, I'm a human being that can learn all sorts of things and appreciate a lot of different things. So I'm trying to, kind of like get my life more... what am I trying to say? Experience more different things and realize what there is in this world, and not just music, and not just classical music. I still haven't listened to Taylor Swift, however. [Laughs] But I liked all the old songs that I missed. Simon and Garfunkel, I mean, I always liked the Beatles, I mean, even when they were, when I was in college and all that, so there were certain songs from the past that I've liked, but they've all been related to music. I'm starting to like plays more now than I used to. I even watched the Super Bowl by myself. [Laughs] But that's only because I heard about Taylor Swift and what's his name. So it's interesting.

VY: And you sing now, right, in the choir?

MM: Oh, right, I do. One of the things that I've learned to enjoy is singing. But it has to be the right teacher, I mean, the correct choir teacher, okay, because I tried one before. It was so boring, it was terrible. So I sang in it about two or three months, and forget this, but I went to Aljoya, and Rebecca, who is the choir director there, she was the director of the Seattle Girls Choir, and she's a really good choir director. And she knows how to work with the elderly, because she also lives at Aljoya, but she also has a group that is of younger adults (...) so that's really good. So we rehearse every three months and then take off three months, so she can do her other choir like that. But I always looked forward to that, now that I can't play the violin as well. Although I did play my violin with the last choir thing, I thought, oh, I hope I can do this.

VY: How did it go?

MM: It went well, but it was really easy stuff, I mean, I wouldn't have done it if I couldn't play it.

<End Segment 31> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 32>

VY: Okay. So now we're just going to touch a little bit on your next part of your life, or this particular progression of your life. Were you ever married, and if so, who were you married to, and did you have any children?

MM: I was married when I was twenty to my first husband, Nori Mihara, who was going to school at the time. He was getting his master's, and I was a junior at the university, and he was great. I knew the minute I met him that I was going to marry him. So it was great, he's the father of my son. [Interruption] You know, it was during the sexual revolution that we were married, and I think that had something to do with our falling apart, kind of, because all his friends were not married. He was the only one, and he was the only one with a child until his best friend had a child, but then they got divorced. So their child and my son are really good friends now. They're like brother and sister, practically, because of the situation. And it wasn't just our immediate situation, it was the entire, I don't know if it was the world, but it was during the Vietnam War, there was all sorts of stuff going on. So I hate to say it, but it was an awakening period for a lot of people, but for me, it was like, no, this is not good. I don't like the sexual revolution, it was not good. It was women trying out different things. I don't want to get into it, it's not, you know, very nice. And so it worked out, however it worked out, it worked out. I mean, so that was that. We were married, I think, about (ten and a half) years, I can't remember exactly. Anyway, so that was my first husband, and I still speak to him. When you have a child with somebody, you never really lose touch with the father.

My second marriage was a total dud, and the reason I married him were totally different from my first husband. I mean, I was really in love with my first husband. My second husband, not so much. But the reason I didn't want to be in love so much was because it was such a heartbreak when you do get divorced. I think I cried for a couple of years after my first husband. But when I talked to my neighbors, Dick and Jane, who had been married sixteen years at that point. I said, "How is it that you guys have stayed married so long?" And they said, "Well," Dick said, he asked Jane, "Why do you want to get married? What's the main reason?" "Companionship." And he said, "You know, I don't ever want to get married for, just because you're really obsessed with somebody or in love or something, because then you're in for a heartbreak if it doesn't work out," or something like that. So I thought, well, that's a good idea, because it was such a traumatic experience for me when I got my first divorce. I was the only one in my family, my parents were totally upset. And I don't know if anybody else was, but I was totally upset, actually, myself, for two years. [Interruption] And this was the sexual revolution, right? Women were calling him up. They would say they wanted to... they would talk to me and say they wanted to talk to Nori. They wanted to invite him over for dinner, but not me, and all sorts of weird things that I was not used to, and I didn't think was right. I mean, I still have these ideals that when you're married, you do things a certain way. And one of them was not to go out with other people.

[Interruption]

So my second marriage, it was just a mistake. I can't be married to somebody that I'm not totally in love with, or have some passion for. Because then little things annoy you, and then, well, there were some things I found out about him that I didn't realize afterwards. But it was Jim and Holly who clued me in to the certain facts that I didn't realize about him. And so that was my second marriage, and it was so different from my first. My first, I just cried. I mean, I wanted to call him back and say, "Let's get together," but then he was already with somebody else. But my second husband, it was like, "Hey, I've had this rock lifted off my shoulder." So it's not exactly his fault, it's not exactly my fault, we just never should have gotten together. And so that was good. And then the third -- I don't want to speak ill of him, because he's already died -- did you know that Jerry died?

CC: Oh, Jerry? No.

MM: Yeah, okay. Anyway, so my third husband, he was fun, and he was way younger than I was, and I didn't think I was ever going to get married again, but when you fall in love, if they propose, you say, "Yes." [Laughs] But this is another thing. When I got really sick from breast cancer and stuff, he couldn't handle it because he was too young. We didn't have enough of a history, I think. And I still talked to him, and he's remarried, and three of us get along really well. I'd go over for dinner, they'd come over for dinner. So it's really nice that the three of us can get together and get along.

<End Segment 32> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 33>

MM: But anyway, so my only child was from my first marriage, and that was his gift to me, because I consider him a real important gift to my life.

VY: What's his name and when was he born?

MM: Jim? He was born in 1964 on Thanksgiving day, November 26th was Thanksgiving. And I thought I was going to have the first Thanksgiving baby, but no, I was in labor for, like, hours and hours and hours, so somebody else had it first. But he was a good baby. I wasn't such a great mother, but he was a great baby.

VY: And I think you had mentioned earlier that you sort of passed along your love for music to him, he has an appreciation?

MM: Yes. I think we could hear it. It's hard not to get influenced by it, because it's so compelling, the music is so compelling. And it's not like he heard awful sounds, and he heard me teach, so he's a teacher. He's a great teacher, he's still teaching. He has some really fabulous students, and he'll never give it up, I think. We did talk about this, how it was great that grandma, his grandma, my mom, got us started on this, because otherwise we wouldn't have this, and we would be missing out on this huge treasure of music that he would otherwise not even know is there or appreciate. Because when he was twelve, he could sing the theme of Beethoven's Opus 18 No. 4 quartet, string quartet, and not very many twelve-year-olds could do that. But we were having rehearsals at my house with Irv Eisenberg coaching us, and so he knows that, because he'd be in bed, and he'd be hearing it.

VY: That's amazing.

MM: But then the thing is that he doesn't know all the popular stuff. He's getting to know more of it now because Holly knows more of it, and he like some of it. I mean, he's very eclectic in his music taste, but classical music is his big thing. He plays violin, he's really, really good at it, and he's a fabulous teacher, knows more than I do about teaching now than I ever did. And he was a conductor for about twelve years. He wants to get back to it, but I don't know, that's kind of a hard thing to get back to.

VY: Wow, so that's amazing. He really did sort of follow in your footsteps, you really passed along your amazing appreciation for music and your musical abilities.

MM: I tried not to get him to do that. Actually, I wanted him to just have fun with it, because I knew he wouldn't make very much money doing it. But he was at Marrowstone music camp, and his teacher and I kind of forced him to go, and Mr. Sokol's eldest son, who's just the most amazing person, who has died now, but he, Mark Sokol, was there with his quartet, and he had such an influence. He was really charismatic and he sat me down one time and he says, "You know, Jim wants to go into music, and he needs all the support he can get." And I said, well, no, I didn't really want him to do that. And he said, "Well, he really wants to. If you make him stop now, it's hard to get back into it once you stop. So guess what?" [Laughs]

VY: So I'm curious, during the time... let's see. So you were married and you had a child and you got divorced, so for a period of time, you were probably a single parent?

MM: Yes. I was a single parent twice for a period of, like, nine years or something like that in between each of the husbands. So Jim was very, learned to be very independent. That's one of the regrets of my life is that he was so young when he had to go off, when he was in grade school. He was four or five when his dad and I got divorced, and he had to go off to school. I would drop him off, but it was before they had things like before school things to help those kids who had to be dropped off earlier or something. So he was what you call, I think, a "turnkey child" or something like that? Latchkey.

VY: Latchkey.

MM: Latchkey child. So he had to close up the house, I mean, lock the door if I couldn't drive him, and if I had to get school early. And so he just learned to be very independent from a very early age. He didn't mind, though, he said. I apologized to him once, and he said, "Oh, no, you shouldn't feel guilty." So his wife, Holly, says, "I wish my mom would have let me alone, left me alone." [Laughs]

VY: Yeah, that's kind of a nice independence that kids appreciate sometimes.

MM: I guess. But as a parent, you just worry that you might have not been there enough for them.

VY: Well, what about your parents? Were they around during this time? Did they help...

MM: No, because they were both working. I mean, they were never really well-off, because they scrabbled for their livelihood, right? And they lived too far away. It wasn't like my mom, she quit driving when she was sixty five, which she shouldn't have, she always later said that she wished that she hadn't quit driving so soon, but that's the way it was. It's too bad, because she would have loved to take care of Jim, I think. She had to work. And my dad was too frail to work, to take care of Jim. Wouldn't know the first thing about what to do with Jim. [Laughs] Although they used to have little conversations, but that's about it.

VY: So it was mostly just you and Jim for a while?

MM: Yeah, mostly.

<End Segment 33> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 34>

VY: I'm wondering what your relationship with your parents was like during this time or as a young adult, and as time progressed?

MM: Well, I think growing up, I was very... I loved my parents, but there was a point in my life when I didn't love my mom so much. I always loved my dad because he was very, he never really got mad at me except one time he slapped me across the face, and I think it was because I had been talking back to my mother. And it was the one time he did something, and it hurt so badly. He just slapped me right across the face, I never talked back to him again. I mean, he never did that again; he must have felt bad. Either that, or I didn't do it in front of him, I don't know which it was. [Laughs] Because it hurt really badly, and I guess he used to spank me when I was little. And with Shoji, my mom -- I don't remember this -- but my mom would say Shoji would come to my rescue and get on my dad's back and tell him to quit hitting me. [Laughs] So I appreciate Shoji for that reason.

VY: Shoji was always there. He protected you from your dad, he protected you from your, those other kids when you were little.

MM: Yeah. And he was always good to females. Not so much to guys, I mean, like he and your dad used to get in fights. I mean, I didn't know that. They used to have their fun times, too, and they'd leave me out of it, because I was at home. Actually, my brother had a thing about me and my violin, and causing all this trouble. But yeah, I think my parents and I had a good relationship until I started talking back. And I sometimes kind of wish that they would just thank me and leave me alone with, you know, I didn't want to hear all their blabbing about things that I should know. Okay, so I think it was late high school, I started having some of my own ideas. But they were both working so hard that I really didn't talk to them a lot. I kept a lot of things to myself, but it was in college that my mom, I remember one time she said that she almost wished that I didn't go to college because I was so smart-alecky, I mean, I would just come back with these retorts that she didn't want somebody taking back to her when she was just looking out for me. But I felt like I was, there was too much influence on their part, and wouldn't let me become independent. So I stayed out at school a lot, and I was there at the U from early in the morning 'til late at night. And so in that way, I didn't really get to know my mom as well. And I got to start knowing her more when she actually, when I was much older and she needed my help. Like I said, she quit driving when she was sixty-five or something. She was near there. She had breast cancer, and I remember taking her to her appointments. And one of the deals we made was that if she got rid of her car -- because I was worried about her driving -- so I said, "Well, I'll drive you to get groceries every weekend." So I took her grocery shopping every Saturday, and we got a lot of talking in during that time when I was driving her. So that was really good, and so our relationship was much better. But you know, they were so mad at me when I got divorced from my first husband. Well, and before that, when I was trying to assert my independence. [Laughs] But they were really glad because it was because of my mom and this person I called Baachan, that I even got together with Nori, because I don't know if I told you it was sort of arranged almost. Do you know about this? Oh, okay.

Well, the way I met him was I met his father first, it was at a funeral. So Jim always likes to tell everybody, "Oh, my mom and dad met at a funeral." Well, not really. I met the father at a dinner, because the Japanese usually will do a dinner after a funeral. And I was sitting across from Nori's dad, and he liked me. He asked me if I knew Nori, and I said, "No." Do I know Aki, his brother? I said no, and they went to Garfield. I didn't go to Garfield, I went to Franklin. And so then, next thing I know, I don't know if it was a month later or a few months later or whatever, my mom says, "Well, do you want to go on a blind date?" And I said, "Well, not really, especially one that my mom's doing." [Laughs] So she told me the whole story. She and Nori's dad had gotten together, decided that we should meet each other. So they had a mutual friend where this mutual friend would have a dinner where I would meet Nori. And I said I would, and he said he would. Because, first of all, I said I would go just to appease my mom, because I was dating somebody that she didn't like. She really hated him. He was white, and I don't think it was because of that, I think it was because he didn't go to university, I mean, he was driving a bus. And that's where, actually, my brother got me in trouble because I asked him not to tell my mom that I snuck out with this guy. [Laughs] Oh, man, she got mad at me, not at my brother. Anyway, so I said I would go meet Nori because he was Japanese, and he said, "Oh, yeah, I can do one date." And same with Nori, his parents wanted him to meet a Japanese girl, because he was dating some white girl. So, okay, well, the minute I saw him I knew I was going to marry him. I mean, it was the weirdest thing, because there was something about him that just, like, oh my god, this is the person, right? And I had all this negative stuff going on before about, you know, I didn't really want to do this. Anyway, that's how we got together.

VY: That's so interesting. Do you think that the fact that your parents, especially your mom, really wanted you to marry him, played into some of the, you said they were really upset with you when you finally, when you did get divorced.

MM: No, they liked him, so I'm sure that played a part in it. But I think that the reason they were upset is just a cultural thing. I was going to be the only one in the family who was going to be divorced, and what kind of awful thing it'll be to be the first person in the family to get a divorce. So it was, I think it was a cultural thing.

VY: Understood.

<End Segment 34> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 35>

VY: Since we're talking about your parents again, I'm wondering, did they ever talk to you later on about their life in camp? I know you've shared a few stories, but I wonder if you ever talked together about life in camp together?

MM: No, I can't remember. Because my dad didn't actually like to talk about it, he says, "Better to just go on with your life." So he said... one thing, though, that I would like to say, which I think is really interesting what he said. He said, so I asked him one time when I was much older, like thirty or forty, I don't know. Anyway, "What was it like to have loyalties to the United States and to Japan, and they're fighting?" And he says, "Well, it's like when your mom and dad fight and you just wish they'd quit." I thought that was a really good answer.

VY: That is a good answer.

MM: Yeah.

VY: Well, I'm just curious if they -- and I guess maybe they did -- talk to you about what it was like to have to leave, have to pack up really quickly and leave their home.

MM: No, they never talked about that.

VY: Okay. Because I was just curious what happened to the restaurant. This was in Tacoma, right, they were running a restaurant.

MM: I don't know anything about that.

VY: Do you know what they did in camp? Did they work while they were in camp?

MM: Well, I just learned from Caitlin or your dad or somebody that my dad worked in a restaurant or the mess hall or whatever. I don't know what my mom did. I didn't even know that... I don't know if she even worked.

CC: I don't think she did. There's no, like, pay stubs or anything in her case files, so she may have just taken care of you and eventually Shoji.

MM: And eaten too much of their bad food. [Laughs] Well, anyway, sorry.

VY: No, that's totally fine. Well, I'm wondering, so you didn't talk about this with your parents, did you and your siblings ever talk about the incarceration or... I'm curious, when you sort of, when was it that you first sort of became aware of the fact that this is something that happened and that you were actually a part of it?

MM: Oh, my goodness. I don't think it happened at once like that, I think it came in stages. Because we always talked about camp, I mean, I knew what they were talking about, but I didn't have any concept of what that meant. So I don't really know when it became a concept of being moved from a family situation in an independent kind of way to a camp kind of situation, and I don't know.

VY: Just something that sort of gradually, you became aware of over time?

MM: Yeah. I don't really know how I learned about it. I mean, I just became aware of it finally, I guess. But we talked about camp all the time.

VY: You talked about camp all the time but didn't really define what camp was?

MM: Yeah, right, exactly. And my cousins, too. The family of cousins I'm talking about, the oldest one is four years older, so she remembered a lot. And she told me how cold it was in the winters, I didn't realize, and she told me it was freezing in the winters. But that's one thing that she told me, I can't remember some of the other things she told me. But I was pretty young when she told me that, so I guess in stages I kind of found out about things.

VY: Did it seem like other people were aware that this had happened?

MM: No, in fact, I was shocked that I didn't... like my neighbors that I was telling you about, Dick and Jane across the street, they were from the Midwest. And I told them and they said, "What?" They didn't know anything about it. They took me out to dinner so I could tell them all about it. And that was maybe twenty-five years ago. Anyway, it's been more recently that more people know about it, because back then, I'd meet people who had no idea that there was this thing that happened, Japanese being sent off. Yeah, it's pretty amazing, but what's amazing to me now is that there are, like you guys do such a good job with disseminating the information to the public. I guess that's what's happening. I mean, there are more people who seemed to know about it now when I talk to them. Well, of course, that book that came out, Facing the Mountain? I've had people who wanted to read it and borrow it because they wanted to know. And the condo where I live, we had this group that I meet with on Friday nights, and they wanted to hear about it. I mean, they sort of knew about it, but they wanted to know more.

VY: Yeah, so that's a good point. So a lot of people now are aware, but they don't know that much about it and are interested in learning more about it. Back when you were, say, explaining it to Dick and Jane, how did they receive that information? Did people believe what you were saying?

MM: Oh, yeah, they didn't not believe it. I mean, they believed what I was saying, they were just shocked that that happened. And especially the fact that they didn't know that it happened. So I think it's just as shocking to them when they don't know that it happened.

<End Segment 35> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 36>

VY: And you've touched upon this a little bit throughout our discussion today, but I'm just wondering how you feel the incarceration affected your family psychologically, if you're willing to talk about that?

MM: Well, I think it was a very difficult thing for my dad and mom. Well, obviously with my mom, because of physical things she had to go through. With my dad, it was both physical and... because he couldn't eat that food. I mean, you should see a picture of him. When he got out of camp, he looked, have you seen that picture of him on the porch? Anyway, he looks really old and skinny, like he went to a Nazi camp, practically, I mean, he looked so skinny. But just generally speaking, I don't know. I mean, it certainly affected their lives because if they had gone to camp, they weren't wealthy to begin with because they had just gotten married and come from Japan. But they could have built something and they lost four, five years of their lives, and my mom lost more because she was so ill from having lost all that blood. And it took her a while to recover from that, not to mention the psychological trauma that they went through. And I'm thinking that, had they been able to continue their lives normally, that they might have done what they actually wanted to do. Like maybe my mom would have gone to beauty school, haircut, whatever it's called, earlier on in life. And my dad might have been able to do graphic design as a job. But as it was, having to scrabble from nothing, because I don't think they came out of camp with much money at all, if any. And they never talked about it, but I know that they had these ambitions. And I know my dad is very smart, and I know my mom is very, very smart. So, I mean, they have intelligence that makes you think this is just such a waste. But they didn't get to utilize all their intelligence, and in a way that made their lives easier. But as it was, it made their lives very hard, the whole incarceration. And then I think it has affected my life, and I didn't realize that until that Densho thing, you know, that dinner, and we had that speaker, she was from my generation, starts with an S. She's from San Francisco, and she used to do protests down in...

CC: Is that Satsuki Ina?

MM: Yeah, yeah, yeah. And she talked about it, it made me want to cry. I mean, because, oh, somebody who understands me totally. My friend and I, Frannie, you know, the one who's my age -- [interruption] -- we can't talk about it because we don't know how to talk about it or what it was that affected us. But you know that we don't feel like, I mean, when I see my white friends, even today, they have no... what am I trying to say? They aren't held back by what they want to do, what they want to say. I always have to think about it, but I don't so much. [Interruption] It might not have been just the camp, but because we had to stay in our own little circle after camp, and how we had to treat each other, you felt really like in a jail, practically, I mean, you couldn't say whatever you want to. I don't know if it's a Japanese trait or whether it's, having been like that, we didn't know. We don't know how to address it. But there's so much more freedom in the white community maybe. I don't really know, I'm not a sociologist, but talking to some of my friends, they don't have these "you shoulds" and "you shouldn'ts" as much as I do, or that I've learned. And more so even with my friends, sort of, who've grown up in that same community. So that's why it's easy for me to talk to Frannie and my (cousin) Kinu, because we have experienced the same kind of things. And so no matter how old we get, whenever we get together it's like old times. Because we sort of understand each other although not in the sense of psychologically understanding each other, it's just a natural kind of thing that we grew up with. So I don't know, I kind of wish I knew more. But that dinner was the first time I was sort of enlightened about the fact that we might have had PTSD this whole time and didn't know it, but it makes sense.

And one of the reasons I think that I couldn't become a soloist is partly because I had this dual thing of not wanting to be seen, and yet I liked playing in front of people. And I liked doing this music, but I really hate being seen. I liked the applause, but I'm too shy in some ways to do it, and I care what people think, and that you cannot have that if you're going to be a soloist. You have to just do the music and you can't say, I played that, what would this person think? What would that critic think? Blah, blah, blah. And I don't know if that's a Japanese thing or if that's because of the way I grew up. She was talking about how her parents said, "You can go out and demonstrate, but don't have your pictures in the paper, and don't be seen. Well, you want to be seen if you're going to protest, that's the whole point of protesting, right? So I think there's a connection there somehow, or even though there may be other people, too, not wanting to be seen so much, I think the experience amplifies that whole feeling of not being seen. You want to just kind of hide and not be seen as a person. Because they think of, first, they see you and the first thing is, "Are you Japanese?" "Are you Korean?" "Are you Chinese?" And it's a thing. So I don't know, is basically what I'm saying. But it is a problem, and I realize that more now in this day and age where people are more concerned now, the Blacks and browns and everybody, they want to be seen and heard. And I think that I don't know if it's because of racism. I think it is, but partly it could be culture, I don't know. But I watch NHK because it kind of helps me identify.

VY: Yeah. Thank you for sharing all that, that's really powerful, and it actually does make a lot of sense the way you're describing it.

<End Segment 36> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 37>

VY: And I wonder if you have any thoughts about redress. If you remember when it happened and how your family responded to it, and did you guys talk about it?

MM: We didn't talk about it very much. I was glad to have the money because I needed it at the time. (Alan is the most stable one in the family, let me tell you). [Interruption] I mean, but Shoji and I really had problems growing up, I mean, especially my brother. So I'm not really sure. I think guys tend to react differently, girls tend to more shut down maybe. That's the stereotype, so forgive me. [Laughs] But that's the stereotype I grew up with, kind of.

VY: But yeah, that's a good point. So the monetary compensation, it went to you and your middle brother but not your youngest brother, because he was born right after camp?

MM: What I want to say also is that we got a letter from Reagan, who was not my favorite... anyway, that's political. Anyway, I appreciate that letter more than anything. I still have that letter. Because if nothing else, the apology helps. I mean, monetarily, yeah, who isn't happy to get extra money? Unless you're a billionaire, then twenty thousand, who cares? But none of us are billionaires or millionaires, even at that time, was a lot of money. So twenty thousand was really great. I redid my lawn. [Laughs] I used it right away. But I think what bothered me more than anything was that my dad didn't get it because he'd already died. And he probably more than... he and my mom and that generation deserved it more than anything because they lost so much. Not just monetarily, but psychologically, mentally, physically, it's just bad. Now, I was just a child, and I didn't realize that it affected me, but it has. But maybe not as much as it affected my parents. So I think that's important to consider, that there were a lot of people who died because of being in camp, and they might have lived longer. I mean, I think maybe my mom and dad might have lived longer had they not been in camp. And Shoji for sure, I think he died because of the bad nutrition prenatally, and afterwards being, because of the way he was, he was hit in the bottom by the principal, and he had a low grade headache his life, and nobody could figure out why, I mean, why he had this low-grade headache. To me it was because he was, the doctor probably did something to his brain when he was being pulled out. Because he couldn't get the care that he needed.

VY: No, it sounds like he had health issues that followed him throughout his life.

MM: Yes, right, he's the only one in the family who's, that eczema thing, you would have been just horrified to see that, and the doctors couldn't help him. She found out through folk (medicine), somebody, it's a folktale, a folk remedy, you just put zinc on it and it went away. But she found this out from somebody, not a doctor. So it's interesting where you get this information. But yeah, he's had problems his entire life because of it, I think. I mean, that's my feeling, it's never been proven. Because I don't know, I'm not a doctor, but just having observed him for all his life, and how he's so different from the rest of the family, it just makes me think that. And also, I was in line at Starbucks, and there was this white woman who had been married to a Japanese person, and she was blaming the government, too, for why her husband died. Some cancer thing because of the camp. And so I thought, oh, I'm not the only one who thinks that.

VY: Well, and I'm wondering, going back to the apology letter, why was that so important, receiving that apology, that acknowledgement that something...

MM: Oh, yeah. To know that actually, well, I don't know that the entire government was feeling bad about it, but I think they should feel bad about it. You know, it was a terrible thing. And hopefully that never, ever happens again. But you know, it can happen again. So it's just that apology to me is more important than anything that they thought about it enough. I don't know how it happened that the twenty thousand happened, but it might be because the JACL put a lot of pressure on them. I don't know how it happened, but I'm glad to have gotten the money. But more importantly, to me, like I said, the apology is important, and to get a letter stating that. And I think if the government would just acknowledge that we have done some bad things, because it really bothers me when they come by and say, oh, the day of infamy, December 7th, when the Japanese came and bombed Pearl Harbor, okay, that was bad. But think about all the bad things you've done, too. You call those days of infamy? Like when they bombed Hiroshima and Nagasaki and killed thousands of civilians, at least at Pearl Harbor, they were military people, right? I think. Am I right, or am I wrong? Well, anyway, it was a military installation. But to me... and that's not the only thing. I mean, you talk about racism, I mean, all the stuff they've done to the Blacks with the slavery and all that. And it's still going on, the horrible things that go on. So even if the government could just acknowledge it, it would help a lot. People can forgive a lot if they know that somebody really actually feels badly about what has been done to them. So I think that is important. That's more important than the money, in truth.

VY: Thank you. Thank you for sharing all that.

<End Segment 37> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 38>

VY: I think Caitlin's going to talk a little bit more with you about a couple of things, and then we'll wrap up with some reflections.

MM: Okay.

CC: I just mainly wanted to talk to you about the camp pilgrimage. I'm assuming you remember, we went as a family, like maybe ten years ago. So we went on the Tule Lake Pilgrimage, and I just wanted to know how you felt about it, if you came away from anything learning stuff, thinking about new stuff.

MM: Okay. It was interesting to me in that I didn't realize how bad it was until I went on the pilgrimage. And the part that really hurt me, I mean, knowing about it, was when we looked at that prison that was inside the camp, it made me want to cry. That's just ridiculous that they would do that to people. I mean, anybody, it's just horrible. So that was the thing that affected me emotionally really badly. And then the other part was kind of knowing actually where our place was and actually getting to step on that land, but I don't know that we actually knew. But what I would like to know, actually, is -- and I don't know if you could find this out for me. But you know that I think that every family was allowed to only take what you could carry. So when you have an orchestra, you have to have music, and everybody would carry their instrument. I mean, I'd carry, even if I could only take two, I was carrying my violin, I would stuff things into my violin as much as I could. But you can't stuff a bunch of music into it. So how did they get their music? I just don't know. Was somebody kind enough from the outside to bring it to them, and you have to have music stands, they're heavy. It's just like if you had all the music you have to take to make music, that's really heavy, and for you to have room for your clothes and things like that. So I just kind of wondered.

CC: Well, they were able to buy things in camp and they were able to have things shipped to them.

MM: Oh, really?

CC: From the outside, yeah. Over the course of however many years that they were in. So it probably happened that way.

MM: Okay. So I didn't know that, okay.

CC: So initially they brought a certain amount, and then over the course of the years they were able to acquire more.

MM: But you can bring in furniture, wood or something to beef up your place to make it better. Did I tell you... oh, anyway, I don't know if this matters. But Holly, my daughter-in-law, Jim's wife, her dad actually helped build those things in Tule Lake but those structures, what do you call those structures?

CC: The barracks?

MM: Yeah, the barracks. And when he found out that we had been in there, he felt so bad. But the thing is, he was just a youngster and he needed to make money, too. There were people who needed to make money even if you weren't in the war. He was, I think, seventeen or eighteen. And so he went to Tule Lake and helped build those barracks. He felt so bad for my mom and dad.

CC: Were you happy you went on the pilgrimage? Do you think it helped you kind of process things and being there with your family?

MM: Yeah. Well, I did like being with you guys for sure. I mean, I wouldn't have gone by myself probably. But it was a good thing for me to see. It made me feel closer to the community as such, and that was mainly it. That I learned a little more about it, about what it was about. So that was really good, I'm glad I went. And I kind of wanted to go again, but now I'm too old. I wouldn't be able to... I hurt too much in different places. It's hard to walk.

<End Segment 38> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 39>

CC: The other thing, just recently I've been doing research into our family, and I have found records that your mom and dad, my grandparents, were renunciants and they lost their citizenship in...

MM: They lost their citizenship?

CC: Yeah, they lost their citizenship in 1945, and I believe, based off of an index card, that they may not have gotten it back until 1955.

MM: Oh, but they did get it back.

CC: They did get it back, but I was just curious. It seems like you don't remember them talking about that at all.

MM: Not at all. This comes as a total shock to me. They weren't citizens? So they didn't vote?

CC: In theory they could not vote between 1945 and 1955.

MM: Okay, when did Eisenhower become President?

CC: I don't know.

MM: Because they were adamant that Adlai Stevenson should become President, and they talked about it. I was in high school. Oh, so maybe by then they could vote.

CC: I don't know when Eisenhower was President.

MM: Because I was the minority. Everybody at Franklin in my class was going, "I like Ike, I like Ike," and I didn't join in, I just kind of sat there. Because I don't know anything about politics. So I was kind of with my mom and dad, they want Adlai Stevenson because they thought he was really smart.

CC: Well, I mean, this might have been why they continued to have you speak Japanese in the camp, because they thought they were going back to Japan.

MM: Well, that's it.

CC: Partially because at a certain point, they had renounced their citizenship. And I'm still researching it, so I'm trying to find the records, more records about that case and how it got resolved.

MM: Oh, okay.

CC: It's interesting to know that they did talk about other things but they never mentioned anything about renunciation that you can remember?

MM: Yeah, no, I never knew that. Yeah, that comes as a real shock to me, oh my goodness.

CC: So they weren't they only... well, so Toshifusa, your uncle, was a Japanese citizen. He was born in Japan, but I believe Nobuko also renounced.

MM: Was...

CC: She was also a renunciant. So the family decided to do it together.

MM: Oh, okay. So when you say that, it's not unbelievable because my dad being so close to his brother, he would have wanted to follow his brother if it has nothing to do with loyalty, I mean, loyalty to country. His is more loyalty to his brother and his closeness to his brother. So if his brother was going to be sent back, he would have wanted to be sent back with his brother. I mean, not just him, but the whole family.

CC: And then their dad was still alive at that point?

MM: Yes, right. I think the mother, too.

CC: And the mom, yeah, the mom didn't die until the '70s.

MM: Yeah, because I remember when I was in high school she died, I think. Because the only time I saw my dad cry was when he got the news that his mother had died in Japan. But yeah, so I kind of knew that my uncle was not a citizen as such, but I didn't know if he ever got it. Because you could still get it.

CC: Yeah, he may have become a naturalized citizen later, but I know he wasn't a citizen at the time.

MM: Oh, okay. Well, I know my mom and dad were both born here.

CC: So they were definitely citizens.

MM: Yeah. So if they had to renounce it, that's awful.

CC: So research is still happening.

MM: Okay.

CC: But it's good to know on record that you don't know anything about it.

MM: No, I don't. It comes as a complete shock to me.

CC: I'll keep you updated.

MM: Hmm?

CC: I'll keep you updated.

MM: Yeah, that would be nice. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't make me think differently of them. It just adds something to their story, right? That they kept that completely to themselves. If they got it back, how did they get it back? But they must have gotten it back because they did talk about, when election time would come, they would talk about the, my dad was very well-read on different things and he had definite ideas about... I mean, I would imaging, who should be President and who shouldn't. And my mom basically followed what he would say, because she knew that he read a lot.

CC: Well, and you would have only been like fourteen when they got it back, so you were young.

MM: Who, what?

CC: You would have only been like fourteen years old when they got it back?

MM: Oh, yeah, right. And we didn't talk about those things. They probably thought it was none of my business. [Laughs] And wouldn't want me to worry. Because that would be terrible if they had to be sent back to Japan.

<End Segment 39> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 40>

CC: I think Virginia is going to finish up with some final questions?

VY: Yeah. Just a few more questions, kind of wrap up and kind of reflect on what we talked about today. And I was kind of wondering, I don't know if this question is very easy to answer, actually, but I was wondering if you remember when you first became aware of your Japanese American identity.

MM: I actually don't know. Actually, I never thought about race and that sort of thing very seriously until recently, I mean, when it became a national issue with the Blacks and all that. I mean, it's not like I wasn't aware of it, it's just I never thought about it very much. I was too involved in my work and playing music and all that, I just didn't even think about it too much. Only when... it only became an issue when I would have problems, like with that principal that I was telling you about when I was working, and that was more racism than anything, and I was thinking of it as a racist comment, and when certain incidences would come up. But I would just brush them off, except for that principal thing. That really affected me and it made me think about, well, I always thought it was because of his age. I mean, he retired the year after that incident. I kept thinking he should have retired two years before. [Laughs] I think it was, he's a product of his age, we all are. So you're more aware, you guys are more aware of the racial things that are going on. I should have been more aware, but I wasn't. I was involved in music and raising a child and all that, not too much about the racial things.

VY: Well, but what you're saying is very interesting because it sort of shows that a lot of times we don't think about these things until people tell us we're different.

MM: Right.

VY: And the fact that he used that slur and other people in your life used that slur, that's when all of a sudden things kind of stop for a second.

MM: Right. But the thing for me is that because I've been treated pretty well in the entire community, I don't very often think about it. But I can see that if you're always given that kind of feedback like that principal, it would become a major thing in your life. But that hasn't been the case for me. I mean, it's just incidences here and there, and maybe others, there have been others, but I might have just been unaware. I can say I was just unaware that it was a racist comment, and it just kind of went over my head. Because I wasn't really very sensitive to it. And it's only been since I became more... well, I had this friend, this Black friend, who, I've been friends with her a long time, but it wasn't until after I retired that I really got to know her because we would walk the mall all the time. And we got to talking, and I didn't even realize that Seattle was really racist for a long time. I mean, because I didn't experience any of that. But she was telling me about all the things she's experienced, and I'm going, "What? What? Really?" Kind of like that. It's just such an eye-opener when you talk to somebody who's experienced all this. Then you realize, oh my gosh, I've been living in a fool's paradise. So that might be true with a lot of people, actually, who don't mean to be racist, but they're not aware, kind of like me, that it's going on for a lot of people, the negative things that go on.

VY: Yeah... go ahead.

MM: No, that's all right.

VY: I was going to ask you, how important is your Japanese American identity to you?

MM: I don't think of it as an important... well, I don't know. I never thought about it, actually. But I'm glad to be Japanese American. I don't even say I'm Japanese American, I just say I'm Japanese, because that's what they ask you on the forms. And so I just say Japanese and I'm very proud of it. I mean, but I'm American as well. But the thing is, my parents always made me feel like, that Japanese culture was important, I mean, that there was nothing wrong with the culture. I think they always said I should be proud to be Japanese. And I don't know, I always just took it at their word and I never felt especially inflated or deflated by it. I just accepted it and, in fact, if anybody said anything negative, it would just make me mad, it wouldn't make me cringe into myself. That's what I mean, I don't want it... it doesn't make me feel any less of a person, I think, but I don't know. Because psychologically, you don't know how things affect you over the long haul. So I'm not really sure, to tell you the truth. But I haven't been ashamed to be a Japanese American or Japanese even, I mean, just without the American part of it. I'm just me. I think of me as just being me, and I've got a Japanese heritage, and I'm glad for it.

Because I see that part of the problem with the Blacks is that their heritage has been the slavery part and that's hard to, I think, come to a realization that your ancestors were slaves. I mean, I don't know, but I think it would be, because I know that my parents come from really good stock, but what's that mean? I mean, I don't really know what that means. But I would think that, like say if my parents were criminals or something, I would be maybe ashamed, but it would really reflect on me unless I were the same kind of thing, I mean, the same kind of person. So it's kind of like, yeah, that was way long time ago, the slavery. But they still have this background and people are always saying things to remind you of that. And there's a part of me -- and this may not be very politically correct -- but I think there are a lot of Blacks that really quite impressive, and I wish they would emphasize that more instead of the ones that are not doing so well. So that the younger people can see, the younger Blacks can see that there are all these really important people that you can look up to, and that we need to see that it has not so much to do with race, it has more to do with how you conduct your life and what you do. I mean, because I think there are a lot of amazing Black people in this world, right? Not to set them off as a racial thing, but including all the different races, I mean, we all have different people that we can look up to. But when it's all in their face all the time about people that are committing this or committing that crime or something, it doesn't help the younger people, I don't think, to see that. So that's sort of a political statement on my part.

<End Segment 40> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 41>

VY: Well, also I think you're kind of talking about role models, right?

MM: Yes.

VY: And wondering, for you, as you were growing up and later in life, if you had any Asian role models, Japanese American role models that you can think of?

MM: No. Actually, my mom, I have to tell you, she has been, and my dad, too, in a different way. Because she contributed certain things to my life which I wish I could emulate, and I wish I were better at it, because she has discipline up the kazoo. I mean, she was a very disciplined person. And she's spiritual, too, but my dad is very spiritual. And I got that from him. He never talked about it much, but I got it from him. So those were really good role models, I think, in terms of, in general, I don't know. I mean, there have been people that I've admired, but not really. [Laughs] Isn't that terrible? No, I just figured that my parents wer0065 the best role models. Because even I tell people, you can change your life when you're fifty. I mean, I was so shocked when my mom decided she was going to go to beauty school when she was fifty, and I was in high school or something. No, I had gym, so I had to be in college, I was married already. But to me, fifty was pretty old then, and to be changing careers at fifty, just seemed like, wow. But I tell people, "You're not stuck at wherever you are," and that's because of my mother, that she was able to do that, just do what she wanted to. But she fulfilled all her obligations until she had to, she fulfilled her obligations until she wasn't required to, like raising kids. So once we were all out of the house, then she could go to school and spend some money on herself. I thought that was really pretty good. And my dad is a role model and not always yelling at everybody. He was very quiet, and he'd let you know what he thinks, he would think about things, but he was very spiritual. So I got a lot from that, so I think that was perfect for me.

VY: That's such a great answer, I love that your parents were your main role models.

MM: I think it is for a lot of children. I mean, I think it's important what their parents are like. Because those are the ones that make the biggest impression on you at the beginning. But there have been teachers that I've admired, and different, well, I look at Taylor Swift, I admire her. [Laughs] She's the most amazing person to me, I mean, you know, that at her age she can do what she does. I think, I don't know her that well, I mean, I don't know that much about it. But it seems like she's got a pretty good on her shoulders from being so rich. So there are a lot of people to admire in this world.

Oh, and another thing that I have to say is that watching NHK, I'm glad there's a channel on Japanese. It makes me really happy to be Japanese, because you see these role models -- I mean, they probably show the best people on NHK, right? They're not going to show somebody who's a dud. But it really makes me happy to see these really normal, good people, and they're not necessarily really famous, but they're really good people that they show on NHK, so I like that. I think the best role models are those that are normal and who live a really good life. Not necessarily rich, not necessarily famous, but they're good people in life.

VY: I love that answer so much. I'm wondering, speaking of your parents and role models, what kind of values did your parents instill in you?

MM: Well, my mom would probably say, because she didn't think I actually embraced many of them, that... let's see. I don't know that they actually told me anything. I think it's a matter of example, how they lived their life, because they persevered even after. When I'd think about what they had to go through in order to give me the life I had, actually, Alan and Shoji, what they had to go through so I could actually learn to play, I mean, to play the violin. Because they had to sacrifice some things as well, because my parents, they had to... it's expensive to learn to play the violin, or to play any instrument and take private lessons, it's a long time before you start earning money. And so even when you start earning money, well, how much do you make per hour? Well, when you consider all the time I spent learning this thing, I'd probably make a penny an hour. So it's like... I don't know what else to say. It's important that you have people that you admire and stuff, that had an influence on your life.

VY: Yeah. Which parent do you think you take after the most?

MM: Probably my dad. Because I wish I could be more like my mother. Because she had a fire in her, and a determination. I think, Caitlin, you're more like my mom. She used to be really shy, my mom, but she grew out of it. And it's like your dad and I were talking about it, we kind of were laughing. Because you know why she went into librarianship? I mean, she was really, really shy when she was little, I mean, really shy until she was probably in college. And she said she wanted to become a librarian because she wouldn't have to talk to people and she worked in the stacks. And now she's got this job. [Laughs] And so Alan and I were laughing about how she's not in the stacks anymore. What was the question?

VY: It was which parent do you think you take after?

MM: Oh, yeah. And basically, I'm out in the world. But generally speaking, I think about things spiritually a lot, especially nowadays. I mean, because I'm getting close to when I might be leaving. But no, I've been like that all my life, really, if you think about it. My dad was the first one who introduced me to Edgar Cayce, I'd never heard of him. And he started me on that path a little bit. I've been a Christian, I've been a Buddhist. [Laughs] And so I know a little bit about all these different things but I mostly -- and I hate to say "new ager," but I believe in quantum physics and that sort of thing. So basically my dad was the one who... but he actually believed in Christianity, but not the U.S. Christianity, it was a Japanese form. But all Japanese have some Shinto and Buddhism in them, apparently. And I do believe in some part... a large part in Buddhism and Hinduism. Give me all these religions and I'll take the good parts, ones that I can find good.

<End Segment 41> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 42>

VY: Are there other religions that you studied that really made an impression on you?

MM: No. Basically, I dabbled in Hinduism... well, I really actually was a Mormon for a while and that was interesting. Okay, so Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism, and even in the Christian religion I've tried different sects, or what do you call them?

CC: Denominations?

MM: Denominations or something. I've been to a bunch of different churches. So I usually quit going when I don't like what the minister is saying, and I'm sitting there arguing with the minister in my pew. [Laughs] Then I think, "This is not good." So then I just read my own things, and I read a lot of, like, new age books, I guess you would call them new age, spiritual books on how to make yourself better and reach enlightenment. Like Eckhart Tolle, I read Eckhart Tolle, and some things that seem to contradict each other, but when you really look into it, they don't. Anyway, just basically I read a lot of spiritual books.

VY: I'm interested in that little time you spent at a Mormon. Do you want to talk about that at all?

MM: Well, if you'd like. It's not very long. I was looking for a church when my son became about eleven or twelve because he was getting harder to handle, and I knew that he needed some guidance and I was divorced at the time. So I was looking to have him go to church, I thought it would be good for him. Because he wasn't listening to me so much, it's just one of those dynamics where a son doesn't want to listen to mother. Now, if his dad had been there, I think he might have listened to him more. Because he and his dad think alike... I mean, they have the same kind of brain, they're left brained. They can understand each other better. So that's why I started looking. And I went to Presbyterian church, and I didn't like them at all, they were very cold people and not very welcoming. And so the next church I went to was this Mormon church, which I didn't realize at the time was one of the most wonderful spiritual churches. Okay, they were very welcoming, and the thing I liked about the church was they considered all children their children. I mean, they didn't differentiate your childhood, they valued all children, which was really wonderful for me. Because they helped Jim so much, and he gained some spiritual, I think he would have always had them, but you never know. Because he did get instruction from them, but he got only the good parts. So I won't go into the bad parts. I mean, there are some very strict things about the Mormon religion, and I actually joined the church, but I asked to be excommunicated about a year later, because I couldn't follow all their strict rules, I mean, they're very strict. And the ones that were there were very nurturing and wonderful people. I really admired them because they followed the rules, I mean, they really tried to follow the rules.

And so the thing was that it was really good for my son, he got into the Boy Scouts there. And the Boy Scout leader who's a really great man, he had four sons of his own, he took Jim under his wings and taught him all these different things, and he had these experiences with that troop that he never would have had with me or with his dad. Now, Alan was pretty good. He would take, I don't know... no, you weren't born yet. But before Caitlin and Patrick were born, my brother Alan would take us sometimes to ski, skiing, or do different things. But in the troop, they did things like fishing. They went on a seven-lake, what do you call it, portage, in Canada where he got bitten by all kinds of mosquitos, apparently. And the scout leader, he taught Jim how to swim in a lake and turn over a canoe and get back in, because he couldn't go unless he did that. Now those are things I never would have been able to teach him. So he learned a lot; it wasn't just religious things.

But the thing about the Mormon church is that they make the male people, the male parts of the group feel really important. So that was good, I'm glad he feels important, that he feels good, but he also treats women very well. And at that church, anyway, they treat their women very well. Whereas apparently, what I've heard since then is that not all the churches are like that. So I don't know, I don't want to judge because it depends just on who the bishop is. And that bishop that we had at that church was really wonderful. So it's just whatever human is there to take charge. So you have to kind of be lucky in life, you never know who you're going to get, who you're going to meet up with who's going to affect your life.

VY: No, that's so true. And thank you for sharing all that. It's very obvious that you're a very spiritual person and you've spent a lot of time really studying a lot of different religions and schools of thought and it really comes through in the way you talk about everything. And I also know that your parents were very important to you, and I think I remember you saying that your mom wanted you to write her story. And so I just kind of wonder if you feel like recording this interview is sort of a way of helping to tell your story?

MM: Well, I'm glad to be able to do my part, however, Caitlin is the star. She would be so proud of you, Caitlin, because she always wanted me to write, but I didn't know how to get the exact story. I mean, there were so many missing parts, and I couldn't put it all together and I'm too lazy, for one thing, if not another. But part of it was, it just seemed daunting, that whole idea of writing it together. Basically I like writing, but when it becomes difficult, then forget it, I'm not. I'm not disciplined enough, and I don't know how to go about it, whereas Caitlin knows and she's done an absolutely fabulous job, so Grandma would be so proud of you. She's probably smiling down on us now -- because I do believe in an afterlife. I'm not an agnostic, I do believe in an afterlife, although I still get scared about dying once in a while. [Laughs]

CC: Agnostics believe in a god.

MM: What?

CC: Agnostics believe in a higher power. It's atheists that don't believe.

MM: Right, but they're not absolutely sure... well, I guess I'm not absolutely sure, too, because nobody knows for sure, really, ever. Although I'm pretty sure, because I told you had a visitation from Shoji. [Laughs]

VY: Do we get to hear about that, or no?

MM: Did I tell you about that?

CC: Yes.

<End Segment 42> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 43>

VY: Why do you think it's important to document and share your experience with others? Why is this important?

MM: Probably I wouldn't think it's so important really, except that Caitlin asked me, and my mom sort of asked me. So really, I don't know that... I mean, if it can teach anybody anything, that would be great. I don't know that I have anything to teach anybody, and it's kind of like, I hope it's not like a soap opera. It is my experience, but I don't know that anybody really would care about my experience except myself. So I don't know. Basically I'm doing this because I think that there is a value in the future generations knowing what happened. Because unless we knew what happened in Germany, for instance, we wouldn't have that empathy for the Jewish people, for instance. And so on a general level, that would be the thing. Historically, I think, it's important to know what happens. Although history seems to keep repeating itself, so I'm not really sure. But it hasn't gotten that bad yet, but we don't know for sure until after the election, we won't talk about that. But I'm so happy right now because I won't say who I'm afraid of, but anyway, we don't know until after the election. So just generally speaking, we don't want repeat. I think the evolution happens on a very, very slow scale, although it's been accelerating more recently, I think, just having lived my life so long. It seems to be accelerating really fast, and hopefully it'll reach its peak in November and it'll be better. [Laughs] And history won't repeat itself, and hopefully things will get better for everybody, Blacks, browns, everybody. I hope we don't have any conflict. I just would like to live in a peaceful world, that's my biggest hope.

VY: Yes. Well, thank you so much. Are there any other unique or significant experiences that you've had that you'd like to share or anything else that you'd like to say before we conclude today?

MM: Not really. I think I've covered it pretty much. I talk a lot. [Laughs]

VY: We so appreciate that you are willing to come here and talk with us and share everything that you've shared. It is very important and it's so meaningful to be able to spend this time for with you and for other, knowing that other people and students and anybody else who wants to learn about this time in history and different things that you experience in your life, they'll be able to. It's so important. And I just want to thank you so, so much for joining us today.

MM: Thank you for asking me. As you can tell, I don't mind talking about myself. [Laughs]

CC: Thank you.

<End Segment 43> - Copyright © 2024 Densho. All Rights Reserved.