Blog #5
Evacuation
As we boarded the bus
Bags on both sides
(I had never packed two bags before
On a vacation
Lasting forever)
The Seattle Times photographer said
Smile!
So obediently I smiled
And the caption the next day
Read:
Note smiling faces
A lesson to Tokyo. – (Yamada, 13)
Out of all the poems this week I liked this one the best; possibly because I looked at numerous photos this week of the Japanese internment camps. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to have to pack a few suitcases of my belongings not knowing when I would return to my home or if I would return to my home. There is a hint of that in this poem in which Yamada says “I had never packed two bags before on a vacation lasting forever.” There was such an uncertainty to the rounding up of the Japanese-Americans that would have been daunting. The most troubling component to me about this poem and the pictures that I have viewed is the smiling faces. Why are they smiling? “The caption the next day read: Note smiling faces a lesson to Tokyo” (Yamada, 13). Was the purpose of looking happy to teach Japan something? Was it the fact that the Japanese could be discriminated against and yet stand strong and persevere? Or was this the only way in which they were able to cope with what appears to be a hopeless situation?
I tried to imagine myself there. I tried to think about how I would feel if the government told me to pack up a few of my things and take my children and board a bus or train because it was time for me to relocate. So here is how I felt:
Their only reason for relocating me and my family was because of the color of my skin. I suppose I pose some threat but this threat they speak of I do not understand. I love this country. My family has been in this land for a generation and we all pledge allegiance to the United States. I have heard through the gossip chain that the U.S. wants us to denounce our loyalty to the emperor of Japan. Again I do not understand what they are talking about. Loyalty to the emperor of Japan? I’ve never met the man and furthermore, I’ve never been to Japan. Japan is a country that my parents came from but I myself do not know. I know nothing but the U.S. and I love this place; this is my country. The government apparently does not see it this way. They must think that I’m a traitor or a potential spy. So without resistance, I pack my things to leave. I look at my half empty house and I am filled with worry and fear of the unknown. Will I be gone a week, a month, a year? No one can answer my questions or ease my anxiety. I gather my children and leave. We board a train and off we go. Our destination is a fenced in area with barbed wire and armed guards; this is where we now call home. A photographer takes our picture and before he does he says “Smile!” We comply. Why did we smile? I am not happy. Part of me is trying to save face. I’m trying to be strong for my children. I want them to continue to live life as they did before. I want them to play and have fun. I want to make our new home as comfortable and “normal” as I can. Yet part of being told to smile does not sit well with me. What part of this seems okay to this photographer? What is the purpose of his photo? Who will he be giving it to? Are they trying to give off the impression that we all are fine with our new location? We continue to fake our intoxication with this new place but we must come off as false. We can’t possibly be that convincing. If we were, why does no one believe us when we say we love the United States and we pledge our allegiance to them? I guess it is a survival tactic. At least it is for me and my children. I hope we won’t stay here long but for now, I will make the best of it and try and pretend that I am on an extended vacation; one I hope will end soon. As for my photographs, I want people to see behind the smile and recognize the pain and confusion that is buried deep within.
Carla, I love this. I loved it when you said it in your presentation, and I love it here. I think you're right that instead of interpreting the smiles as complicit, or even "obedient" (the word Yamada uses), we need to understand them as strategic: a "survival tactic," is how you put it. Being asked to smile for the official record gives an internee the opportunity to attempt to prove his/her patriotism, loyalty, and friendliness at a time when "enemy" was the word attached to Japanese Americans. I think Yamada's poem is so powerful precisely because she captures this complex sense of simultaneously wanting to "prove" loyalty to the U.S. and protest the U.S. for internment policy.
ReplyDeleteEvacuation
ReplyDeleteAs we boarded the bus
bags on both sides
(I had never packed two bags before on a vacation lasting forever)
the Seattle Times
photographer said
Smile!
so obediently I smiled
and the caption the next day read:
Note smiling faces
a lesson to Tokyo.
Hi Carla, I complete agree with your understanding about this poem. I understands it in the same way too that the author was worrying about where she will be taken to and when is this gonna end. What a terrible nightmare was that to a child that she knew that she will be kept away from her home and will be sent to a strange place. Children’s are innocent, they should not be treated like that especially this is not their fault, neither their family’s fault.
and the caption the next day read:
Note smiling faces
a lesson to Tokyo
I think the author was being sarcastic about the note to the caption because she was smiling obediently instead of smiling from her heart. The author wanted to tell us that it was an illusion. The propagandas were just aiming to help the government “relocate” Japanese immigrants more smothly and try to reduce the public pressure for condeming such an inhuman act.
In our area
was a block head
who told us
what’s what
in a warden’s helmet.
Japanese American that where sent to the control camp were closely watched. They can’t do things they want, even reading. Also why would the author mentioning about warden’s helmet? Is is possible that the author felt like she was prisoned?
Turn off your lights
it’s curfew time!
I was reading
with a flashlight
under my blanket
…
Off with your lights
There must be no lights
Since Japanese American were told to be “relocated”, why would they also dislocate their rights as well?!