Sacredness of Histories

Learning about the Japanese American experience in Manzanar has been both eye-opening and deeply moving. It is a story of resilience in the face of injustice, where families who had built thier lives with hope and hard work were suddenly uprooted, labled as threats, and forced into incarceration camps during World War II. I think it was surprising to me because the history that is taught in school is minimal. I remember being in middle school and learning about WWII, and I barely remeber learning about the incarceration camps. I probably heard about it once, and then it was brushed over. I am thankful for the new and valuable information that I learned not just about the incarceration camps, but the people who actually had to live through it from their families.

As Americans, we all need to learn everyone's history. As the government is trying to control what people learn and who they learn about, we must continue to educate ourselves to be better. As a Black woman, I would be very hurt if Ipeople did not learn about what happened to my ancestors as a way to make sure it never happened again. So, we should treat everyone with the same respect.

Hearing their stories of quiet strength, enduring loss, and a steadfast commitment to dignity reminds me how fragile freedom can be and how important it is to stand against prejudice in all its forms. Seeing the way that they endured and brought their culture with them into the camps was particularly special to me. I think as people of color, we often forget how sacred our culture is. For me, it is what separates us from those who are white. Not that they do not have culture, but culture is what defines us as a people. It has been passed down thorugh generations. At times, it has been the reason for discrimination. I think it was valuable to them that they brought the gardens, basketball, and many other aspects of themselves to these camps.

I think what also made it such a fulfilling trip was that we were all learning: me, the Sophia students, and the other TISP students. I got to see how everyone interpreted and felt about everything as well. It made it so much more impactful because everyone was taking a piece of the knowledge that is not that known.

While it was a place of hurt, the people made it beautiful and even tried to make it a home. It was a place of honor, and I could feel it when I was there. It's not just history: it's a living testament to courage, and it compels me to listen more carefully, honor their struggles, and work towards a future where no community faces such betrayal again.