Bennett Kim's Manzanar Reflection

Going to Manzanar has always been such a profound experience for me. The first time, I was able to go was with my church, and in that group were several people who had been incarcerated in Manzanar -- one of whom was Rose Honda, one of the founding members of my church's congregation. Since that time, I have had the opportunity to go to Manzanar two more times with Loyola Marymount University's Nikkei Student Union during our yearly retreat.

Rereading the stories of those who were imprisoned alwaus made me think about those in my community. I think of the stories they have told me about being told to gather at the Japanese school in Sawtelle and staying at the racetrack while they made the camps. I remember Rose, while we were eating lunch in the dining hall at Manzanar, reminisced on the food served in the camps. She told us about the big pots filled with boiled pork chops and how devoid of flavor thye were. These are some of my most precious memories, as I will never have the chance to ask more questions as this generation passes on. Despite my grandparents never being interned in the camps as they immigrated post-war, visiting these camps still reminds me of my family: the family that doesn't trace back to me through blood but through the love of my community.

It is because of how much visiting Manzanar means to me that having the opportunity to go with Sophia and other LMU students was so special to me. It was because I had gone to Manzanar recently, and my close community ties to the site, that I was able to help guide how we all experienced our visit.

The true start to understanding the Japanese and Japanese American experience in Manzanar starts way before you get there. On the drive there, looking out the bus window and admiring the landscape around is an essential part. Manzanar is remote, sitting at the base of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in the high desert where the weather is only extreme, and there is nothing around but the desert. I think that this remoteness was felt by everyone on the trip. Most people had the chance to see the city fade in the distance and the single guard tower standing above Manzanar.

The main exhibit at Manzanar is the old gym converted into a mini museum which tells the story of the incarcerated Japanese and Japanese Amnericans, as well as the struggles they went through to prove they were American. When I was little, I remember being so shocked by the examples of the beds and the pictures on the wall. I remember feeling so amazed by everything and just that it sucked. Now when I visit, I can't help but feel even more sad, not only because my understanding of the situation and what happened has become so much clearer, but also because I think of how we have lost so many stories.

Manzanar makes me reflect more than ever on the state of my community and those in it. I think of the elderly who are slowly passing away, or the way things have changed. So many of the opportunities I have had are no longer available. For example, I experienced Manzanar with people who were there. It was during the part fo our visit that I saw one of the more touching momnets of this trip. The JICE representative Waka-san had read about the 442nd, and when I asked what she thought, she said it was all just sad. To me, this meant a lot because it felt like she understood my community in a way that can't be forced or taught. Someone who has never really learned about this event or interacted with this community internalized the events and empathized with what happened.

After we visited the museum and had lunch, some people when to explore the barracks and play some basketball. To me, while playing basketball may seem random and borderline rude at the site where so many suffered, I tend to think the opposite. As I have visited, my perspective has turned more and more from just remorse and sadness to also looking at the resilience of the community and pride. The word Gaman came to mind while we played it, meaning and enduring hardship with patience and dignity. I think that, to me, this trip with the TOMODACHI Inouye Scholars Program really cemented this feeling. This trip was the first time I had the chance to fully walk through the restored gardens and orchard at Manzanar. To see such a beautiful thing in such an awful place symbolizes part of the Japanese American experience: making a place where you aren't wanted, that tries to hurt you, into a place of comfort, into your home.

When I saw everyone playing basketball, it made me think of how, despite all that happened, the community still banded together to support the next generation adn give them some normalcy in incarceration. By playing games like basketball or baseball, I feel like these community goals are remembered and continued.

We ended our time at Manzanar at the memorial site. I think this place helps bring the whole Manzanar visit together as we hear about the tragedies that occured, yet end at this beautiful spot. To me, it symbolized the beuaty of everything the Japanese and Japanese Amerian communities were able to accomplish in this place. It symbolizes our community's struggle and turbulent past, while still showing the beauty that came out of it, despite the events of the past.