“As a Sansei, I longed for specific answers to my questions about how the internment affected my mother and father. What I found is that clear answers are difficult to come by… I went to Heart Mountain to tear down some walls. Now I gently embrace them.”
I flew to my oldest female cousin’s funeral in Los Angeles this past week. Kayko Kawabe Ishii was 82 years old when she died.
Kayko’s parents were my second set of parents when I went to college at the University of Redlands. They were my home away from home and I’d spend holidays and vacations with them. Their ho’okipa/hospitality was always welcoming and generous. I remember Kayko as a teenager. She wore black turtleneck and tights, slept late, and always had a smile on her face. Since I didn’t make it to Aunty and Uncle’s funeral, I thought, I must go to Kayko’s.
The funeral was held at Fukui Mortuary – one of two Japanese owned mortuaries in the heart of Los Angeles near Little Tokyo. The weather was clear, cool, and sunny for the funeral. It was good to see family: cousins, their partners and children at the funeral on Tuesday.
I also got to spend time with two of my brothers - Carl and Paul - who flew in from Hawaii Island. It’s always fun when they’re around. Most people were dressed in aloha attire per Kayko’s request – so the gathering was a Hawaiian style celebration of her life. I'm sure she loved it!
On Wednesday my brothers, cousin BJ, and I went to Little Tokyo to visit the Japanese American National Museum. They have an amazing exhibit of the Japanese American World War II incarceration. We saw a special display called Ireichō.
It has become a sacred book of names – the first comprehensive listing of over 125,000 persons of Japanese ancestry who were incarcerated in US Army, Department of Justice, Wartime Civil Control Administration, and War Relocation Authority camps. Appointments to see names are made at least a month ahead so I wasn’t able to see the names of my relatives in the book. But just knowing they were there and recognized was comforting.
Embedded into the very materiality of the Ireichō are special ceramic pieces made from soil collected from seventy-five former incarceration sites in almost every region of the United States. Tiny jars holding the soil are attached to wooden plaques with the name of the camp. I especially noted the camps at Kilauea, Honouliuli and Sand Island in Hawaii. My maternal grandfather, Joichi Tahara, was prisoner at all three. He was innocent and died 9 months into his incarceration.
Heart Mountain, Wyoming was where fifteen of my paternal relatives were imprisoned. One of the fifteen, Kayko was sent there when she was 4 years old. She remembers the great Wyoming sky and mountain and wondered why there were men on the other side of the fence with guns pointed at her.
It’s hard to know what kind of impact that had on her. But joy and celebration were key in her life. She became a cheerleader in high school, and social worker in L.A. County. She married the love of her life, raised three children, and then went on to get her master’s and PhD in psychology treating trauma in the Japanese American community.
There was no military necessity for this mass incarceration. It was because of racism and greed. I dream of the day when we can all gently put down our weapons and walls – whether they be guns or personal armor – and open to our own and each other’s unique differences and sameness. We are all humans in different stages of waking up to our lives. Can we practice letting go of outdated thoughts and opinions to be with what is? Gentleness arises from this and helps us embrace all that is.
Malama pono (Take good care of body, mind and heart),
June Kaililani Ryushin Tanoue
Kumu Hula, Roshi
P.S. Here are my recent talks given during our silent meditation retreat: Ziyong's Earth https://youtu.be/jL60xtQO9sY and Instructions to the Cook https://youtu.be/rOWzi8kDHwE
P.P.S. Click here for April newsletter which features inteview with Warren Furutani and his new book ac-ti-vist https://conta.cc/3ZMEMYv