Sunday, October 13, 2013

Racism During WWII

I'm lucky to have lived in a country for the past twenty-seven years where racism, and prejudices based on skin color are in a decided minority.  I'm not saying they don't exist, because I know that evil like that exists everywhere, no matter what we do to eradicate it, but it is such a rarity that when it does happen, it tends to make front page news, and fires people up.

I'm also not naive enough to know that cultural acceptance of race has not always been the norm.  Hello, we fought a civil war rooted deeply in our beliefs of race.  My parents generation saw on their black and white television sets as National Guard forces were sent into school districts to help desegregate schools.  A country that was founded on freedoms, had, at one point, limited voting and citizenship rights to white men.  I'm not going to try to sugar coat the problems of our nations past, because I know they've existed.

For my generation, though, much of what has happened in our nation's history with slavery, segregation, and race limitations has been limited to text books, made-for-television movies, and history classes in the public education system.  We understand what happened, but don't understand what it truly felt like to live in that moment, because we were not alive when it happened.  I feel someday our children will ask us what it was  like to witness the terrorist attacks of 9/11 firsthand, and thought they may study it, they'll never truly understand the raw emotions we felt in those first moments, the disbelief that something like that could happen.

My search to uncover my grandfather's past deals a lot with his letters, and his journey throughout the war.  But it also has to do with looking at how a Japanese-American young man dealt with being what many considered to be an enemy minority during a world war.  It was hard enough for young men to leave their homes and families to go across seas and fight a war they knew they may never return from; to do so with the added weight of being a Japanese-American, well, I can't imagine how that must have felt.

Years ago I read a story in Life Magazine from 1941, and I remember my 20 year old self being shocked at the publication of the article.  Again, growing up in the generation I did, I cannot imagine anything like this ever being published in a major news source today.  Yet there it was, plain as day: How To Tell Japs From Chinese.

Wow.

Could you imagine if you turned on CNN today and they had a report like this?  Could you imagine the back lash they would have to deal with?  All the rights groups, all the citizens, all the advertising that would be lost because of something like that being run.  I can't even imagine the fall out of today's media pulling a stunt like that.  Yet there it was, plain as day, a two page spread complete with pictures:



The first page of the article breaks down the facial features of a Japanese-American, and noticeable characteristics of their face and bone structure, while the second page comments about how Japanese-American often have longer torsos and shorter legs (I KNEW I had super short legs for a reason!)  If you were so inclined, this Life magazine was giving you the opportunity and power to stereotype, segregate, and ostracize a person based solely on this magazine article.  

Again, can we just take a minute to say WOW!

This article was published seventy-two years ago, when my grandfather was 20 years old.  I have a hard time looking at it now, I don't know how he or his family could have seen this on newsstands in 1941 and not felt ashamed for who they were.  

I told you in one of the very first entries on this blog that my grandfather bears no ill-will towards the discrimination he faced as a child and young man growing up as a Japanese-American.  I can partially understand his stance on this, he served in the military during the war and then continued to work for the US Government until he retired.  His career was not based on his race, but on his skills as an engineer.  I know he finds himself truly blessed for the life he has lived.

It's just hard for me to wrap my head around that idea of such a blinding forgiveness, though.  And maybe that's the difference between my grandfather's generation and mine: my grandfather was raised on the belief that he was owed nothing in life, and what he made of his life was determined solely on his ability to work for it.  My generation, as thousands of you Baby Boomers have pointed out, has been raised on the idea that the world "owes us", and we shouldn't have to work hard for things that should just be handed to us.  What a generational mind shift in a half a century.

I guess if this article shows us anything, it's about the powerful force of forgiveness.  My grandfather is not an angry man, in fact, he's one of the most happy-go-lucky people I've ever had the pleasure to know.  Yet after seeing articles like this, I don't know if I'd fault him if he was a little bitter at the world.  He's not, though.  His main concerns are about a small store he now runs in his senior center, and his yearly WWII reunion that is slowly dwindling in numbers.  He's a genius of a man, with too big of a heart, and it really helps to put my life in perspective when I get annoyed that someone cut me off on the road.  We are all blessed with the life we have, and if this article shows us anything it's that we don't often take the time to appreciate it.

I'll leave you with that thought, and ask you to do a simple thing this week: let something go.  Maybe it's a huge fight you've been holding onto for years.  Maybe you, like me, hate when someone cuts you off on the road.  Whatever that thing is, let it go.  It's not worth it.  There are so many bigger problems in this world, and we are the only ones who have the ability to solve them.

Have a wonderful week, friends!

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