EVEN CHILDREN WERE TARGETED IN THIS WARTIME HYSTERIA

The American government needed to react quickly and dramatically after the attack on Pearl Harbor. What did it do? What every bully tends to do: Display strength against the weakest people. The government branded Japanese Americans as enemies and transported them to camps in remote areas. Even children were targeted in this wartime hysteria.

Jeanie Kashima was one. A friend of mine now, she was deemed an enemy at birth and spent the first three years of her life incarcerated behind barbed wire.

Her family was transported to the Topaz relocation camp in Utah in September 1942 just days before Jeanie’s mother gave birth to her. As the hospital and infirmary had not yet been completed, the floor of the laundry room had to be used.

Kashima was the first baby born in the camp. Immediately after birth, she was placed in a food crate as nothing else was available. Now, she has a rare collection of personal photographs that were taken in camp.

During the COVID-19 lockdowns, she used these photos to create 12 collages which depict her and her family in the Topaz camp, now on display at the Visions Museum of Textile Art in Liberty Station.

“My mother vividly recalls the delivery with the sand coming through the doors and windows,” Kashima said recently, during the opening of her exhibition.

There were many challenges in caring for a newborn as the barracks had only one light bulb and no sink, refrigeration or toilet. Moreover, in a location where temperatures routinely dipped below freezing, the barracks only had a potbellied stove to provide heat.

Movement was also dangerous. An internee was shot and killed when he got too close to the barbed wire fence. “How is a mother supposed to explain that to her children?” Kashima said.

Richard Kaneko was also incarcerated at the Topaz Relocation Camp. He was there from 1942 to 1945 when he was 7 to 10 years old.

Kaneko and other members of his thirdgrade class authored “Our Daily Diary,” recounting the events, both good and bad, over five months in 1943 when he was 8.

“There are many people ill in Topaz with mumps, pneumonia, appendicitis, and colds, so we must take very good care of ourselves,” the third-grade class wrote.

The diary also chronicles 8-year-old James Yamasaki’s battle against infantile paralysis. This contagious disease hospitalized him and quarantined his family as well as all the residents in their block.

Kashima’s father died of cancer at age 38 during the family’s first year in Topaz, leaving behind a wife and three young children. Kashima now wonders if the brutal conditions of the internment camps were a contributing factor in why so many Japanese would succumb to cancer.

Severe weather is also documented in the diary: “Last Monday, Don’s uncle’s roof was torn off because of thunder, lightning, and heavy rain.”

But even under these horrendous conditions, the diary shows that the internees remained loyal Americans. “This afternoon the second group of the Japanese American Combat Team left Topaz to join Uncle Sam’s army,” they wrote. The children even contributed to the war effort. “We shall save rubber, money, spiders, paper, and lots of other things to help Uncle Sam.”

Kaneko calls the diary, “A cute way to present history.” In the description of one of her collages Kashima wrote, “I marvel at the first-and second-generation Japanese who survived living here (Topaz) for three years and made the most of their situation.”

My father’s family was incarcerated in the Topaz camp. I collected stories and anecdotes about their experiences and used it to create the play, “Desert Rock Garden,” illustrating a fictional friendship between an old man and a young orphan girl who are spending their days creating a rock garden in 2022 for New Village Arts Theatre in Carlsbad.

I wanted to illustrate the irony of incarcerating two of the most vulnerable people and explore their motivation to create beauty even under their dire situations.

In Kashima’s exhibition, the last collage features a picture of her taken in April standing on the remains of Laundry Room No. 4, the place of her birth, in Utah. At the opening event, she joked, “It’s a miracle I’m still here.”

Whether it’s through a diary, a play or an art exhibit, we should never forget the abuse of children under the pretense of national security or Fred Korematsu, the 23-year-old who fought to protect Japanese Americans of all ages by refusing to be forced into one of these camps and ultimately prevailing in court.

Sekigahama is a playwright who lives in Hillcrest.