The views expressed in this story are those of the author, and are not necessarily those of the Manzanar Committee. To learn more about Higuchi’s award-winning work (we’ve seen it…it’s breathtaking), check out her web site, Mary Higuchi Arts. Well-known for her paintings depicting the Japanese American Incarceration experience, Higuchi’s art was inspired by renowned painter Henry Fukuhara, a former Manzanar incarceree who is famous for his paintings depicting the camp. Satsuki Ina.Ī retired elementary school teacher, Hatsuko Mary Higuchi earned a teaching credential from the University of California, Los Angeles, and a Master of Arts degree from Pepperdine University. Because of them, we survived, but to what extent we fully recovered is another question, which I leave to our distinguished keynote speaker, Dr. Like so many Nikkei families, the toll on our Nisei parents, and Issei grandparents, was terrible. I felt honored and privileged to take care of her, after all her years of sacrifice, for the sake of the children, kodomo-no tame-ni. We took her home when we knew there was no hope. I pleaded, “ O-kaasan, kodomo no tame ni, please, for the sake of the children and grandchildren, we need to know.” When I forced the issue, with tears in her eyes, she said, “ Pu-re-zu…Hanashitaku-nai, hanashitaku-nai, Hatsuko, please, I don’t want to talk about it.” She did not want to talk about the camps. She said, “in camp, not a day went by without wondering, what is going to happen to my children? What will become of them?” My mother sat quietly, studying the painting. I took my mother to Poston, came home, and did a painting of guard towers and barracks. The years of incarceration were never, never discussed in my family, nor did I learn about it in elementary, middle, and high school, not even at UCLA. She decided to farm the ten acres herself, while single-handedly raising four small children. My mother, who was ten years younger, made a brave decision to not give up the farm. I learned that 40 percent of the incarcerated males died before reaching the age of 60. Soon after, my father died of heart failure. My parents farmed from 1946 to 1951, until they saved enough to put a down payment on ten acres of farmland in Torrance. I remember crying because I felt I was the enemy. In fourth grade Social Studies, we read about the war with Japan. One day, a woman got on the bus, and when she saw us, she started yelling, “get these Japs off the bus! They don’t belong here!” My little sisters and I took public transit to Saturday Japanese language school. At lunch time, I was so embarrassed that I unwrapped my sandwich under the table. We took our lunches to school in brown paper bags, and used them until they fell apart. We were given American names: Hatsuko became Mary. When we started public school, our Japanese names were difficult for our teachers to pronounce. My mother had to do this because of the severe dust storms outsideĪfter the war ended, we returned with nothing, except my parents’ determination to rebuild our lives. I remember, clothes hanging on a rope strung across our room, with water dripping onto the floor. My mother bathed my baby sister and brother in the laundry room sink. Latrines, showers, and laundry rooms were in distant buildings. There was only one, bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. When we arrived, we saw rows and rows of black, tarpaper barracks, surrounded by barbed wire, and soldiers with guns. We were sent to Poston, Arizona-a concentration camp on the Colorado River Indian Reservation. Executive Order 9066 destroyed my family’s life. I was born in 1939, on the eve of World War II. First up is former Poston incarceree Hatsuko Mary Higuchi. Follow 46th Annual Manzanar Pilgrimage, held on April 25, 2015, at the Manzanar National Historic Site, featured two “Voices From Camp”-former incarcerees who spoke about their experiences behind the barbed wire and beyond.
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