Unjust Incarceration – Japanese-Descended People on the West Coast of the United States & Canada During WWII – Part 1 – Stories from Mostly Outsiders
Author: 1. Richard Cahan & Michael Williams; 2. Text and notes by Elizabeth Partridge & illustrations and notes by Lauren Tamaki; 3. Greg Robinson
Format: 1. & 2. hardcover; 3. paperback
Pages: 1. 240; 2. 124; 3. 327
Publish Date: 1. November 2016; 2. October 2022, 3. October 2001
Publisher: 1. City Files Press; 2. Chronicle Books; 3. Harvard University Press
Catalog ID: ISBN: 1. 978-0991541867; 2. 978-1452165103; 3. 067401118X
Where to buy: https://bookshop.org/lists/recently-reviewed-on-graphicmedicine-org
Review
by Kevin Wolf
Author websites: 2. https://www.elizabethpartridge.com/, http://laurentamaki.com/
Each book reviewed provides a piece of the picture of Japanese-descended people, mostly citizens of Canada or the United States, unjustly incarcerated in detention camps during World War II (WWII). Several books (in Part 3 link) provide personal stories as a child (They Called Us Enemy and My Lost Freedom) or an adult (Citizen 13660), as observers (in Part 2 link) writing biographical sketches (We Hereby Refuse, We Are Not Strangers) or based on factual events (Stealing Home), and stories about those who tried to document events (Part 1, here) with photography (Seen and Unseen, Un-American). But before I get to those graphic works, I’ll provide background on the political decision makers and military/societal forces from a decidedly non-graphic work (By Order of the President also here in Part 1).
These traumatic events occurred about 80 years ago in the United States and Canada. We still see and feel their impact in new books published, in trauma in successive generations, in periodic racism against Asian descended populations, and not learning lessons if we, perhaps, have unjustified incarcerations in the future. The Japanese American/Canadian incarceration (terminology discussed in the next few paragraphs) occurred from about mid-1942 until late 1945 or early 1946 when these incarcerations ended, and everyone was released. The loyalty/dis-loyalty of the incarcerated were major concerns at that time—amplified by war hysteria—but at no time during or after WWII, were any of the Japanese descended people in the U.S. or Canada ever found to have committed treason or subterfuge against their real home country, the U.S. or Canada. Medically, there were individual traumas, group traumas, deaths, racism—a public health issue—all under the auspices of xenophobia and war hysteria. Much later, there were apologies and reparation payments. If you’re not already aware of these events or want to learn more, then I expect these reviews will be revelatory or, at least, pique your interest to read one or more of these graphic novels.
Many of these books used different words for some of the same places or same people. For each work under review, I tried to use the terminology of their respective authors. But to hopefully avoid some confusion here, I’ll explain how some different words carry the same meaning. The United States authorities, though not all, tended to use softer language (e.g. relocation centers, assembly centers, evacuation, evacuees, internment, internees, and other niceties). However, some of the U.S. authorities had even used “concentration camps” in their internal letters and memos; and as the authors of Un-American wrote, “That is exactly what these camps were, but we do not use that term because of its association with the European concentration camps in World War II, which are more aptly described as ‘death camps.’ [Un-American, page 14]” Only if used by the authors under review will I use the official language by the War Relocation Authority (WRA—created by Executive Order 9066 by President Roosevelt); namely, “Assembly Centers” (nine temporary—for several months—locations), while the ten “Relocation Centers” (permanent – to last several years) were being built. These centers were built and administered by the U.S. army. There were also nine “internment camps” administered by the U.S. Department of Justice. Otherwise, I’ll use the terminology in the books reviewed, which is typically “incarceration camps” or “prison camps.” For example, Un-American prefers “incarceration” to “internment” and “forced removal” to “relocation” and “permanent detention center” or “permanent incarceration center” to “relocation center.”
The word “alien” is often defined as “non-citizen.” American and Canadian authorities might even use “non-alien” for Japanese-descended American or Canadian citizens to try to emphasize these citizens by birthright were somehow foreign. Foreign-born Japanese people (aka, Issei or first-generation) couldn’t become American citizens by law (more later); while their children (aka, Nisei or second-generation) being born in the U.S. were automatically U.S. citizens. For my reviews, both types (Issei and Nisei) will be called Japanese Americans/Canadians or Americans/Canadians of Japanese descent or Japanese descended people. I’m sure other discrepant language will occur in this review, but I’m hoping that their meaning will be clear from context.
I believe, as do many others, that racism is a public health issue, while trauma, though perhaps affecting a group, can often be a mental health issue. According to an article[i] published in Health Affairs in February 2022, Its abstract states in part,
Systemic and structural racism are forms of racism that are pervasively and deeply embedded in systems, laws, written or unwritten policies, and entrenched practices and beliefs that produce, condone, and perpetuate widespread unfair treatment and oppression of people of color, with adverse health consequences. Examples include residential segregation, unfair lending practices and other barriers to home ownership and accumulating wealth, … environmental injustice, biased policing and sentencing of men and boys of color….
You can find similar information about racism and public health at these sources: Cornell University, Tulane University, United States’ National Institute of Health, the BBC, and many more. Though these articles are fairly recent vintage and mostly discussing racism’s impact on black and brown persons of color; systemic racism has occurred against people of color at many different times in history. The systemic racism that occurred herein was leading up to and during WWII in the United States and Canada and against Asian Americans and Canadians. Examples of such systemic racism[ii] included U.S. laws that restricted immigration from Asia (1875 Page Act, 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act, Immigration Act of 1917, 1924 Johnson-Reed Act (“effectively barred Japanese migration to the U.S. and created a national quota system for European immigrants”), 1934 Tydings-McDuffie Act, disallowed persons born in Japan (called Issei) to ever become American citizens. Furthermore, there were state laws restricting Asian immigrants. And over the course of this review, you’ll see federal (Senators and Representatives and the President’s actions), state (governors) and local politicians declaring that persons of Japanese descent are disloyal no matter how much they try to prove otherwise; by not breaking any laws, adding immense wealth to their local economy; all while living in the United States or Canada for decades or more. All of this prejudice, which had a traumatic effect (both actual and generational) on the Japanese Americans/Canadians, led to their mass incarceration soon after Pearl Harbor (December 7, 1941) when the United States entered WWII. They lost—or had to sell at very low prices—their homes, their property, their farms (under Nisei’s names because Issei weren’t allowed to own property), and most of their possessions. Among the 120,000 Japanese Americans (21,000 in British Columbia, Canada)[iii] incarcerated in incarceration camps, some died at the hands of military personnel and some others died perhaps because of stress from loss of their position in the community, their possessions or perhaps the incarceration itself. There was the final proof of the wrongful incarceration, racism, and trauma inflicted upon the Japanese Americans and Canadians, when the U.S. and Canada acknowledged the wrong done to the Japanese descended persons with U.S. legislation (Canada had no such legislation) passed in 1988 requiring a public apology by then President Reagan (and Prime Minister Mulroney), respectively, and some reparations in the U.S. to those previously incarcerated and still living. About 125,000 Japanese Americans—about 80,000 were Nisei, American-born U.S. citizens—lived in the 48 states at the time Pearl Harbor was attacked by Japan; and about 200,000 Japanese descended people were in the U.S. territory of Hawaii. Throughout this review, you’ll find counts of people, not all consistent with each other. As best as possible, I give the sources of those numbers, whether coming from the reviewed books or other sources. I chalk the differences up to differing sources; and don’t view these differing counts as causing a different conclusion: that people—especially Japanese Americans/Canadians—were detained and incarcerated by the United States or Canada during WWII with disregard of their constiturional rights.
There were Issei and Nisei living in the U.S. territory of Hawaii at the time of the attack on Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. Hawaii didn’t become the 50th state of the U.S. until August 21, 1959. In WWII, a very small portion of Japanese descended Hawaiian people—a few thousand Issei or Nisei—were incarcerated in Hawaiian camps (“often with little proof”) or moved to mainland U.S. camps out of about 160,000 Japanese descended Hawaiian persons (about 35% of the Hawaiian population) from Hawaii total population 460,000 people living on the islands of Hawaii at that time. In other words, the U.S. incarcerated nearly 100% of their West Coast Japanese-descended people, and less than 1% of those in Hawaii—where Pearl Harbor was actually located.
Among those books being reviewed here, there was one (Un-American) that provided a curious fact, which I hadn’t known and did further research on; and that was that there were some arrests/detentions of German and Italian “enemy aliens” by the United States during WWII, but only a very small fraction when compared to the detentions of Japanese Americans.
“Within twenty-four hours of Pearl Harbor, the FBI broke into homes and took into custody 1,212 Japanese immigrants who had lived in the United States for decades. The raids were based on FBI lists of religious leaders, Japanese-language teachers, and those who had any known connection to their native land.
“Detaining enemy aliens—citizens of nations at conflict—was the way of the war. By mid-1942, about twenty-two hundred Japanese, fourteen hundred German, and three hundred Italian enemy aliens were picked up by the Department of Justice. The Japanese aliens, however, were a special class. Most had lived in the United States for decades but were unable to become citizens because of laws designed to prevent their naturalization. The arrests of these elders cut off the leadership of the Japanese American community and the means of support for their families.” (Un-American, page 20)
My further research on the topic of German and Italian detentions led to these findings:
According to the Densho Encyclopedia (“The Densho Encyclopedia is a free and publicly accessible website that provides concise, accurate, and balanced information on many aspects of the Japanese American story during World War II,” from About the Encyclopedia), “In addition to the forced removal of Japanese Americans for purposes of confinement in War Relocation Authority (WRA) camps, the Justice Department oversaw the internment of more than thirty-one thousand civilians during the Second World War. This total included approximately 11,500 people of German ancestry and three thousand people of Italian ancestry, many of whom were United States citizens. These detainees were housed in the Justice Department and army camps scattered across the country, from Crystal City, Texas, to Ft. Lincoln, North Dakota, to Sand Island, Hawai’i. The Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS), and a newly created Special Defense Unit (SDU)—at that time all under the Justice Department’s supervision—played crucial roles in the wartime confinement of ethnic Germans and Italians.
And from Howard University Law School:
“Unlike the Japanese-American population, the German-American population present in the United States at the time Germany declared war on the United States was numerous and geographically diverse. In 1940, 1.2 million people of German birth lived in the United States; five million Americans were children of German parents, and at least one million more children had at least one German parent. … Approximately 1,200 German nationals were detained at the start of the war and 11,000 German-Americans were detained during the war by the Enemy Alien Control Program.
“After the declaration of war in December of 1941, the United States began actions to identify and control the movement of all Italian immigrants and naturalized citizens of Italian descent, a population of approximately 600,000 people [i.e. born outside the United States of 1,623,580 total Italians throughout the U.S. according to The National WWII Museum in New Orleans]. Registration was required and the carrying of identification papers was mandated. Italian-Americans were also subjected to removal from “restricted areas,” travel restrictions, a curfew, and were not allowed to own cameras, weapons, flashlights, or short-wave radios. Approximately 1,600 Italian-Americans were arrested and 250 Italian-Americans were incarcerated in military camps. These actions created an atmosphere of harassment which had an impact on Italian-American schools, social clubs, and organizations.
“The restrictions placed on Italian-Americans were lifted on October 12, 1942 (Columbus Day). Those incarcerated in internment camps were released after the surrender of Italy to the Allies on September 8, 1943.”
This means that about .9% of German Americans were detained at some point with only .1% detained at the start of WWII; and about .04% of Italian Americans were detained and about 40% Italian Americans had “some form of restrictions.” Relative to their entire ethnic population in the United States, there was a very small portion (far less than 1%) of the Italian Americans and German Americans detained during some portion of WWII; while nearly 100% of the Japanese Americans on the West Coast of the United States were detained for the duration of WWII, and some almost a year beyond Japan’s surrender. My research didn’t find any criminal prosecutions, let alone any found guilty, for consorting with the enemy during WWII among German, Italian or Japanese descended people.
The story of the incarcerated Japanese Americans in WWII will continue to unfold in the future. A new example is entitled “Side by Side: Nihonmachi Scense by Tokita, Nomura and Fujii” which shows the artwork of three Issei Japanese incarcerated artists at the Wing Luke Museum in Seattle, Washington; and this show runs from August 16, 2024 – May 11, 2025.
There was plenty of war hysteria in the United States after Pearl Harbor was bombed on December 7, 1941. As George Takei—who you’ll learn more about in Part 3—has said with slight variations on numerous occasions, “They called us enemy simply because we looked like the people who attacked Pearl Harbor.” Even before Pearl Harbor there was long simmering racism against Chinese, Japanese, and other Asian immigrants and their American-born descendants in the United States by white people (i.e. mostly people of European descent). Here’s a lesson in empathy. Suppose you’re a white person and a citizen of the United States, how would you feel if you were lumped with enemies of the U.S. simply because the U.S. was at war against a country with primarily white people. Would you say and feel it’s ok to be locked up in incarceration camps for an unknown period of time for no lawful reason without following constitutional rules, such as “due process,” a right to know what you’re accused of, your day in court, a presentation of evidence, a jury of your peers, and so on? Or would you protest? Over the course of these reviews, you’ll read about how the Japanese Americans dealt with their unconstitutional years-long mass incarceration.
Here’s a map that you might find helpful of the locations of the Exclusion Area—the entire West Coast of the U.S., where Japanese Americans were removed from—their Temporary Camps after removal, WRA Relocation (permanent) Centers, and Justice Department Facilities, among other locations.

Source: Wikimedia Commons, the free media repository https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Map_of_World_War_II_Japanese_American_internment_camps.png; WRA Relocation Centers are called Prison Camps in Seen and Unseen and WCCA Assembly Center are called Detention Center in Seen and Unseen; WRA = War Relocation Authority created for these internment camps; WCCA = Wartime Civil Control Administration
Before the reviews of each book starts, here is a very brief summary of each book.
Stories from Mostly Outsiders (reviews below)
Un-American: Book about the black and white photographs—mostly by Dorothea Lange, Ansel Adams, Clem Albers, and an incarceree, Hikaru “Carl” Iwasaki—taken before, during, and after Japanese American incarceration; and including background behind each photograph presented.
Seen and Unseen: Graphic novel about the black and white photographs—some overlap with Un-American—mainly by Dorothea Lange, Ansel Adams and incarceree, Toyo Miyatake; and written for middle schoolers and older.
By Order of the President: For additional background, non-graphic, non-medical, history of President Roosevelt’s decision to and results of incarcerating the Japanese Americans.
Outsiders Provide Stories about Those Inside (Part 2 link)
We Are Not Strangers: Story of the author’s uncle’s grandfather, Marco Calvo, a white Jewish man, who lived in Seattle Washington and helped some of the incarcerated Japanese Americans, especially Sam Akiyama and his family.
Stealing Home: A fictional, based-on-fact, graphic novel of baseball organized and played at a Japanese Canadian incarceration camp.
We Hereby Refuse: Graphic novel of three independent Japanese American lives (Hajime “Jim” Akutsu, Hiroshi Kashiwagi, and Mitsuye Endo) who fought in their own way against their incarceration; including by draft refusal, resisting a loyalty oath, and by a federal lawsuit, respectively, with the latter reaching the U.S. Supreme Court.
Insiders Tell Their Own Stories (Part 3 link)
They Called Us Enemy: George Takei’s award-winning memoir of his family’s incarceration from his ages of 5 through 8; including his work as an adult seeking justice for all Japanese Americans.
My Lost Freedom: George Takei again with his memoir as a picture book for an audience of the same ages when he was incarcerated.
Citizen 13660: The only illustrated book reviewed here that’s both written and drawn by an adult Nisei (Miné Okubo) on her life in the incarceration camp.

Un-American: The Incarceration of Japanese Americans During World War II
The authors of Un-American, Richard Cahan and Michael Williams, provide high quality photographic images—from War Relocation Authority (WRA) hires and administrators and found in the United States’ National Archives—background information, and a story about each photograph. The photographers were hired, because the WRA was proud of the treatment of Japanese Americans and wanted documentation for others to see; but the WRA also censored photographs (there word was “impounding”). The stories in Un-American come from the author’s research and family members, often Nisei, of those photographed. The Nisei were the citizen children—nonetheless incarcerated with their parents—of the families photographed. Their stories might cover their lives before incarceration, life in the camps, how they rebuilt their lives after they were released, often years later, and finally, the trauma that still impacts their elder years and their offspring. I will include some of the information gathered by the authors of Un-American. I recommend Un-American for its powerful imagery and the lessons we all should learn from the stories of Japanese Americans and how we should stop “othering” people who are really just like us all.
All photographs are in Black & White. Though color had been available already for a few decades before WWII began, at that time the color development process was very expensive and arduous, sometimes including hand-painting. In the 1960s and 1970s with the development of Kodachrome and other inexpensive processes, color photography became more readily used. Presentation of about half the photographs in Un-American is bothersome because they’re not kept to one page. When they’re spread across two pages they are slightly distorted at the crease. Some of the same photographs appear with the Seen and Unseen review following this one.
Some photographs were not permitted to be shown. “Most of the banned [‘impounded’] photographs are aerials or overalls of the camps, views showing armed personnel, or shots of squalid conditions. Twelve photographs by Albers were impounded, four by Dorothea Lange, four by Francis Stewart, and six by Fred Clark, an administrator at the Poston incarceration center [27].” Some impounded photographs appear in Un-American (and in Seen and Unseen).
Some photographers in Un-American were hired by the WRA, including Dorothea Lange with 65 photographs (of 850 shot) appearing in Un-American from 1942, Clem Albers with 36 photographs (of 300+ shot) in 1942, and Francis Stewart (1942-1943) with 7 (of 1,000+ shot). Ansel Adams, my favorite black and white nature photographer, requested to take photographs at the Manzanar Relocation Center; and we see 17 of his photographs. Adams’, who owned the photographs he took, published a book collecting his photographs which was entitled, Born Free and Equal. “According to a long-standing rumor, the U.S. Army purchased and destroyed thousands of [copies of this book] because of the book’s pro-Japanese American stance. That has never been confirmed. [35].” Non-WRA photographers, included Nisei Hikaru “Carl” Iwasaki (1943-1945) with 19 photographs in Un-American. Iwasaki was one of the Japanese Americans incarcerated. Iwasaki was released from Heart Mountain WY incarceration camp to work as a photographer. He photographed former inmates living throughout the U.S. On his travels, Iwasaki recognized “… black men and women were prohibited from using whites-only water fountains and movie theater entrances and saw how blacks knew they must sit in the back of the bus. Iwasaki didn’t know where to sit at first, but he soon learned: ‘I was able to sit anywhere.’ [29]”
From Un-American, I’ll discuss at least one photograph’s history from each chapter.
In Chapter 1, “What Life Was Like” (p. 38 – 59), we see photographs of Japanese Americans before their incarceration. Maremaro Shibuya, photographed by Lange (p. 40 – 41) as a child, was smiling with his parents and four siblings and his sister-in-law on their lawn just outside their home in Mountain View, California. The children are kneeling on the ground with their dog; all in front of their standing proud parents. Their father had taught himself genetics and had created over ten varieties of chrysanthemums. Their mother will die from stomach cancer within the year of being forcibly moved to the Heart Mountain Relocation Center incarceration camp. Lange kept in touch and helped the rest of the family after their release.
There was kindness at times. For example, Jean Mitarai recalls upon her family’s release in 1943 her “first day back at junior high school in Richfield, Utah, the principal, a man named Alma Edwards, called the class together and said, ‘Jean is an American just like you and me. If anybody has a problem with that, see me.’ She never had a problem. [Lange, 54]”
Not all Japanese Americans had time to prepare for their incarceration. Within two days after Pearl Harbor, we read about the U.S. Department of Justice moving 1,200 Japanese Americans they deemed “dangerous aliens” to internment camps, even before the ten large War Relocation Centers were built. For example, accompanying an Albers photograph (44 – 45) we see the house of Issei Haruyuki Nagamine, age 62, among the 1,200; he spent almost five years in five different DOJ internment camps before his release. He didn’t see his spouse or daughter again until 1947.
From the second chapter (p 60 – 81), entitled “Bewildering and Sorrowful Days,” Japanese American stores were closing their businesses with “fire” sales. The Un-American authors research found, “the shop [pictured on pages 68 – 69] was run by Soji Tanahashi and his wife, Kin, and their 23-year-old American-born son, Kei. The family was removed to Heart Mountain Relocation Center. Kei volunteered for the army and served as a second lieutenant in the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, an all-Japanese American unit. He was shot four times in combat in Italy on July 4, 1944; and ordered medics to attend to other wounded men first and died before he could be treated. More than 33,000 Japanese Americans served in the military during WWII. An estimated 800 were killed in action. [69]”
There’s a Lange photo (p. 71) outside Dave Tatsuno, and his father’s department store. Dave later snuck an 8mm camera into their Relocation Center (Topaz – 1945) and made a 48-minute film, which “is now included in the National Film Registry of the Library of Congress, only the second home movie so honored. [71]”
Homes, businesses, and boats owned by the Japanese Americans had to be abandoned when incarceration commenced; houses were condemned and torn down, boats were acquired by the navy (p. 74 – 75, Albers). Neighborhoods rapidly changed. “Yasuta Ito would [years later] remark, ’It is difficult to describe the feeling of despair and humiliation experienced by all of us as we watched the Caucasians coming to look over our possessions and offering such nominal amounts knowing we had no recourse but to accept whatever they were offering because we did not know what the future held for us’ [79].”
Chapter 3 (82 – 113), entitled “Picked Up” shows photographs during the registration for and actual evacuation to months-long temporary locations, while the more permanent incarceration camp locations were being chosen and built. During registration, everyone had to get luggage-type tags with their family name, incarceration number, and Assembly Center name. These tags had to be put on their persons and their luggage/packages when they were forcibly moved to their Assembly Center. I show the tagging from a Lange photograph, below, that appears in both Un-American and Seen and Unseen. Not pictured here, Shizuko Ina’s and her husband, Itaru’s, “… story is recounted in the award-winning 2005 documentary From a Silk Cocoon, produced by their daughter Satsuki Ina, who was born at the Tule Lake incarceration camp in California. A Lange photograph of a worried Shizuki waiting in line to register for ordered evacuation appears on pages 84 – 85.

Mochida Family (Dorothea Lange photograph, May 9, 1942; Un-American page 100 and Seen and Unseen page 24); from Un-American: Top row far left is Moriki Mochida, father; far right is Masayo, mother; their daughter (Kayoko) is quoted in Un-American (pg. 100): “Dad was never the same. His confidence was really shaken. He could not provide for his family.” And a son, Tooru (Now Mo), recalled “[The incarceration] destroyed our family. We used to eat every meal together. Once we were [at the center], I would eat in a different mess hall every single day with the other kids. [p 100, Un-American]” Un-American, identifies every person in the photograph, including the Mochida children were front row from left: Hiroko (age 3), Miyuki (6), Kayoko (4), and Tooru (7); and middle row: Satsuki (11) and Kikue (10); back row was a cousin Hideki Fukui.
“The New Inmates” Chapter 4 (114 – 137), includes this information: “Medical workers under the supervision of the U.S. Public Health Services screened each person entering Santa Anita [racetrack—housing for some in the first few months—] for infectious diseases. [127]” They were vaccinated against smallpox, typhoid, with children immunized against diphtheria and whooping cough. Most of the incarcerated were treated by their own also-incarcerated doctors, having refused Army doctors (Albers, 126 – 127). Political commentary is provided at times, such as when Elsie Inouye, an incarceree, wrote, “Remember Lincoln’s Gettysburg address. The greatest emancipator ever born in our world. We need another Lincoln—we the Japanese people. [Lange, 128]”
They often had to carry their own dish wear to the mess halls in sacks to keep off dust; and to wash them themselves because “facilities … proved inadequate. [132]” The inmates helped make their temporary shelters livable by building shelves, making furniture—beyond metal cots for sleeping—posting pictures/wording. There was little or no privacy, whether showering, toileting, sleeping, or “lovemaking” (137). Santa Anita Racetrack and the other temporary camps went back to their original purpose in 1945. “Most, but not all, sites have plaques marking their brief … wartime homes for incarcerated Japanese Americans [147].”
In Chapter 5 (140 – 149), “Vandalism and Thievery,” with the Francis Stewart photograph on page 143, we learn Bob Fletcher maintained three family farms of incarcerated Japanese Americans (“harvested their crops, paid their taxes and mortgages, and cleaned up the farms when the families returned in 1945. ‘He saved us,’ Doris Taketa said [143].” From all I’ve learned, Fletcher was a rare exception (see We Are Not Strangers, in Part 2, for another) of a white American who helped maintain the property of incarcerated Japanese Americans until their release.
“The desert hamlet of Parker, Arizona won notoriety during the war for the hatred spewed against Japanese Americans. Inmates at the Poston incarceration center were allowed to leave camp for brief periods if they received daily passes, but they were discouraged from stopping in nearby Parker” where we see a sign painted on the door to the Grandview Hotel in a Pauline Bates Brown photograph that states: “JAPS KEEP OUT YOU RATS [146 – 147].”
In Chapter 6 (149 – 189), “A Serious Documentary Manner,” “On the Colorado River Indian Reservation, Clem Albers photographed [Native Americans] Ben Butler [154 – 155], a Mohave, and Ruby Snyder [154], a Chemeheuvi, who told him, ‘I hear that the Japanese [in Poston or Gila River Relocation Centers] are wonderful farmers. I would like to go down to see how they grow things.’ The Japanese and Native Americans were deliberately kept apart for most of the war. [154]” In a Tom Parker photograph (164 – 165), we see a large assembly of incarcerated Japanese Americans outside at Heart Mountain Relocation Center in Cody Wyoming behind the casket of Yoichi George Ochiai, age 60, who died of a heart attack while incarcerated, leaving his 12-year-old daughter, Lillian, also shown in the photograph.
Page 166 – 167 shows Lange’s photograph of an Army camouflage netting factory at Santa Anita where a spontaneous strike occurred by Nisei, who were paid 10% of the going rate. That is, the Nisei were put to work at very low wages for the U.S. Army. This type of work and more strikes continued at Manzanar, Poston and Gila River. “It was the first mass act of resistance against the incarceration [166].”
Baseball was the most popular sport at the camps. For example, Manzanar Relocation Center had 100 men’s teams, and fourteen women’s (180). Gila River’s Butte High School team—made up of teen incarcerees—played and beat the Arizona state champions from Tucson High School, which hadn’t lost a game in three years (180; uncredited photograph 180 – 181). See Part 2’s Stealing Home’s review for an example of this pastime in a Canadian incarceration camp.
We see some paintings by inmates on pages 184 – 185; including one by Miné Okubo. See my review in Part 3 (link) herein of Okubo’s Citizen 13660.
In Chapter 7 (190 – 220), “The Closing of the Camps,” we read some of Mitsuye Endo’s story (one of the three incarcerated in We Hereby Refuse, reviewed in Part 2 (link)). On December 17, 1944, “… Public Proclamation 21 [from M. C. Pratt, Major General, U.S. Army and Commanding General of Western Defense Command Headquarters] was issued. It allowed most Japanese Americans to leave the incarceration camps and live anywhere. The proclamation came one day before the Supreme Court ruled that the government had no authority to hold ‘concededly loyal’ citizens. Mitsuye Endo, who worked as [Topaz’ project director Luthor T.] Hoffman’s secretary, had filed the lawsuit in 1942. The government offered to let her leave the camp before the court ruled, but she refused because she did not want to jeopardize the case [193].” This information is accompanied by a Charles Mace, administrator, photograph of a December 31, 1944 New Year’s party at the Topaz Relocation Center (192 – 193). “Baby New Year [in the photograph] is now an endocrinologist in California [193].”
Satsuki Ina, born at Tule Lake incarceration camp, said about her father, Itaru Ina (held at ‘jail within a jail’ at Tule Lake, photograph by Robert H. Ross, 196 – 197), “He was not a radical, outspoken guy. He was a studious haiku poet. … Anybody who protested was characterized as part of the radical element. Many people who said ‘no-no’ were just in despair [196].” The no-no people were in answer to two questions in a loyalty questionnaire (discussed further with the Seen and Unseen review, below).
As the camps closed in 1945 and 1946, there were two issues confronting the incarcerated: Where would they go and how would they be received when they got there? See photographs on pages 210 – 215 showing some returning Japanese Americans after leaving their incarceration camps; some with happy returns and some with covert and overt, harrowing racist attacks; some returned to their original property and many to nothing to start anew.
Un-American concludes with post WWII activities; including that “the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1952 made it possible for the first time for foreign-born Japanese to become U.S. Citizens, an estimated forty thousand Issei who had lived through the camps did so [223].” The authors go on to write briefly about the President Gerald Ford, without apologizing, rescinded E.O. 9066 in 1976; and in 1988 President Ronald Reagon signed the Civil Liberties Act of 1988 and gave a formal apology to the incarcerated Japanese Americans with more than 82,000 Japanese American each given $20,000. “In 1992, on the fiftieth anniversary of the signing in Executive Order 9066, Manzanar was established as a national historic site [223].” Museums have opened at Granada, Heart Mountain, Jerome, Rohwer, and Topaz, five of the ten relocation centers (223).
I recommend Un-American for the presentation of these amazing photographs and the research and comprehensive connections that the authors made between the photographers, photographs, and those Japanese Americans that appear in those images. For their research, the authors relied on their own sources, Ancestry.com and Densho: The Japanese American Legacy Project in Seattle, Washington. There are some additional resources listed at the back of Un-American.
Seen and Unseen: What Dorothea Lange, Toyo Miyatake, and Ansel Adams’s Photographs Reveal about the Japanese American Incarceration
Seen and Unseen reminds me of history books that I read in grade school. This book is mostly narration in a passive voice (e.g., “Japanese and Japanese Americans … needed to show they were not disloyal to the US government [8]”). It’s a mix of many media, including, but not limited to, newspaper headlines, photographs, illustrations by Lauren Tamaki and text by Elizabeth Partridge. Partridge’s father was Dorothea Lange’s photographic assistant before WWII and Lange became Partridge’s godmother, and as a child Partridge grew up near Lange. Tamaki is Yonsei (4th generation Japanese Canadian); and her grandparents “had experiences in the [Canadian prison] camps [115].” Some of the illustrations and photographs are the same image that were shown in Un-American. A lot of similar historical events, living conditions, and treatment of the incarcerated was written about in both Seen and Unseen and Un-American; though the former used the phrases “prisoners” and “Japanese and Japanese Americans, while the latter used “incarcerated” and “Japanese Americans.” I recommend Seen and Unseen.
It’s a nice touch that the authors of Seen and Unseen tried to mimic part of a Lange photograph (shown in Un-American, 62 – 63, and below) with drawn tape in the same way as the actual tape appeared in Lange’s image, but over an archived (not Lange’s) image of the “INSTRUCTIONS TO ALL PERSONS OF JAPANESE ANCESTRY [13].” In not using the Lange photograph, the Seen and Unseen authors might have done this to provide a more readable notice. Some of the instructions on this notice required bringing:
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“Bedding and linens (no mattress) for each member of the family;
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“Toilet articles for each member of the family;
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“Extra clothing for each member of the family;
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“Sufficient knives, forks, spoons, plates, bowls and cups for each member of the family;
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“Essential personal effects for each member of the family.
The size and number of packages is limited to that which can be carried by the individual or family group.
No pets of any kind will be permitted … [emphasis in original, 13].

Seen and Unseen – page 13 Un-American – Dorothea Lange photograph, April 11, 1942 – pages 62–63
I’ll point out two captions (one from Seen and Unseen and one from Un-American) that appear for the same Lange photograph (below). From Un-American, we learn “a California tenant farmer contemplates his future [80].” And in Seen and Unseen we get two possibilities; first on page 23, “One farmer, frustrated that he could not get twenty-four-hour deferral so he could harvest his strawberries before reporting to the detention center, plowed under his entire ripe strawberry crop. The next day, the FBI arrested him for committing an act of sabotage.” Or second, in Seen and Unseen’s Photo Credits is written, “Tenant farmer of Japanese ancestry who has just completed settlement of their affairs and everything is packed and ready for evacuation on the following morning to an assembly center … [120].” Neither caption provides the name of this farmer. My own online research finds no information about this photograph. According to the Museum of the City of San Francisco, “Japanese farmers were responsible for 40 percent of all vegetables grown in [California and] nearly 100 percent of all tomatoes, celery, strawberries and peppers.”

Seen and Unseen page 23; Un-American pages 80 – 81; Dorothea Lange photograph, May 20, 1942.
Seen and Unseen gave a detailed drawn page (36) on Lange’s photographic development process. She’d develop negatives and two prints of each image. She’d caption each one with details. She wrote up all her costs (gas, parking, tolls, materials). She’d bring it all to Major (Norman) Beasley in the army’s Western Defense Command. While Un-American claimed Lange said, “I had a [Major Norman Beasley] following me all the time.” Both books indicate Beasley and Lange didn’t like each other; and Beasley would censor some of Lange’s photographs by having his secretary “write ‘impounded’ on the ones he wanted buried in the file for the duration of the war [37].”
In June 1942, prisoners were moved to the Relocation Centers from their temporary camps. Lange followed those being moved to the Manzanar Relocation Center. At Manzanar a guard followed Lange around to make sure she followed these rules (38):
- No photographing communal showers/bathrooms
- No photographing guard towers
- No photographing barbed wire fences
We see a photograph of a dust storm (40 – 41) with only two struggling, running people visible. “Each family had a 20-by-25-foot space. … She photographed farmers clearing sage brush to start vegetable gardens and women scrubbing, cleaning, and planting small gardens. Classes started outside with no tables or chairs. [42 – 43]” Manzanar was out in the hot dessert. “Children were warned to watch out for rattlesnakes and scorpions … [and] never, ever, to get near the barbed-wire fence, under the watchful eyes of the guards and their guns [44].”
Many worked in the camps. “The rules of the Geneva Conventions meant the Issei, Japanese citizens, were not allowed to work for the US war effort [46].”
“Whatever she photographed, Dorothea Lange put layers in the image. A Simple-looking photograph [49] of a grandfather and grandson seems to ask the question: Why had the United States government locked up a very old man and a toddler? How were they a threat to our national security? [48]” The grandfather, Torazo Sakawye, died ten months later in Manzanar.
Photographer Toyo Miyatake’s family was given #9975 at their registration for Manzanar Relocation Center. Part of the humiliation for the adults, required them to get stringed tags (mentioned earlier) with their family name and number that had to be pinned to their family members and luggage before going to their temporary Assembly Center. His six family members and one cousin shared a room. Miyatake was Issei. In a drawn illustration, we see six sets of footwear with their family names. Archie Miyatake (Nisei), oldest son, was 18-years-old. Archie will later tell his father’s story. Miyatake had smuggled in a lens and film holder; and someone in the woodworking shop secretly made him a camera body for his lens. Miyatake felt he had to record the events around him. We see a replica (circa 1980) of Miyatake’s amazing box camera (54); with the replica created by Archie Miyatake. Seen and Unseen provided drawn components of Miyatake’s camera in detail (55). To avoid the camera’s film from accidental exposure or fogging, the camera had to be built with no light seeping in other than through the lens; and the ability to load film negatives at the back of the camera. A white salesman—who brought goods to Manzanar and serendipitously already knew Miyatake—snuck the negatives and developing chemicals to Miyatake. This involved many people secreting all these materials. His negative holder could allow for two negatives, so two photographs. Miyatake worked at night in complete darkness to develop his negatives and photographs. It was a slow, patient, secretive process! Fortunately, Miyatake never got caught; otherwise, who knows what would’ve happened to him, his photographs, or those who helped him?

From https://www.pbssocal.org/shows/lost-la/toyo-miyatake-capturing-the-stories-of-japanese-americans-in-l-a (PBS Southern California)
The Manzanar Riot (discussed further under Additional Background, below) began on December 6, 1942. Frustrations were building among the incarcerated. Over some disagreement the night before, Fred Tayama was beaten up by five (Seen and Unseen, 60) or six (Densho) masked inmates. Someone was arrested and put in the stockade; there were protests by thousands of the prisoners who demanded his release. “The protestors were fed up with everything: being locked up, mass-cooked food, uncomfortable straw mattresses, the terrible dust storms in the summer, and now the freezing winter cold seeping in through the thin walls. … There would be no photographic record of what followed. [61]” Armed military soldiers were brought in; and the protestors wouldn’t leave. “[Military] Police put on gas masks and lobbed gas canisters into the crowd. Suddenly, shots rang out [63].” Among the incarcerated, a teenager was killed and nine others wounded (one more dying).
The Manzanar Riot, and unrest in other camps, led to the WRA requiring for everyone—at all the incarceration camps—age 17 or more to fill out a “loyalty” questionnaire with the infamous questions 27 and 28:
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Are you willing to serve in the armed forces of the United States on combat duty, wherever ordered?
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Will you swear unqualified allegiance to the United States of America and faithfully defend the United States from any or all attack by foreign or domestic forces, and forswear any form of allegiance or obligation to the Japanese emperor, or any other foreign government, power, or organization?
Those who answered yes to both questions (known as yes – yes people) were deemed “loyal” Japanese Americans by authorities, while those who answered both no (the no – no’s) were deemed “disloyal.”
Keep in mind that these questions were being asked of persons who weren’t allowed to be citizens (Issei) of the U.S. or their children (Nisei), who were already citizens. If they answered Yes to question 28, would the Issei be giving up their citizenship to Japan, the only country who gave them citizenship, so they’d have no citizenship in any country and be stateless? And if they answered Yes to question 27, would that mean that they would be involuntarily drafted to fight for the U.S. after having lost their worldly possessions, money, and land and been locked up for no reason other than being Japanese-descended? The no – no’s were viewed as troublemakers with the 12,000 of them—among all incarceration camps—moved to the Tule Lake (if not already there) incarceration camp under even heavier guard (e.g., military tanks were nearby and a second row of barbed wire fencing was added). Many of the no-no’s answered the questions that way out of protest from being locked up and the further humiliation of having their loyalty questioned.
Seen and Unseen provides an excellent presentation of the dilemmas between the Issei and Nisei generations; “… if parents answered differently than their [age 17+] children … would the family be separated? [69]” Hoping to stay together, Miyatake and his family decided to answer 27 – 28 with ???? – yes. I have the ????, because Seen and Unseen doesn’t indicate how the Miyatake family answered the question 27, about fighting in the U.S. military. Deemed “loyal,” the Miyatake’s stayed together at Manzanar.
To reduce the frustrations among the incarcerated, the Manzanar director—knowing Miyatake had been a photographer pre-incarceration and not knowing he was already secretly taking photographs—asked Miyatake if he would photograph special events like weddings, birthdays, and funerals of other incarcerated people. Miyatake could now make surreptitious photographs under the guise of also doing special events. He made an actual darkroom with red lamp, chemical trays, and enlarger. But since Miyatake was Issei; and not a U.S. citizen, under the Geneva Convention, a white person had to push the button on the camera because Miyatake wasn’t allowed to “work” while in Manzanar. “As the war wore on and there were no more big problems at the camp, more rules were relaxed. [Miyatake] was allowed to photograph outside the studio … [and] given permission to push the shutter [button] himself [76].”
Ansel Adams was a friend of the Manzanar Director, who invited Adams to photograph at the camp. Adams brought his own camera equipment. Since Adams wasn’t hired by the WRA, he could keep all his photographs and negatives. At used bookstore websites or even at an authorized concessioner of the National Park Service, it is still possible to buy Adams’ Born Free and Equal, which collects many of Adams’ Manzanar photographs. Photographs include some showing the natural environment where Manzanar was situated in Owen Valley, California on the edge of the Mojave Desert near the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Most of Adams’ photographs are uplifting images of incarcerated in the camp. Seen and Unseen states Adams’ photographs were posed; and quotes Adams: ‘I believe that the acrid splendor of the desert, ringed with towering mountains has strengthened the spirit of the people of Manzanar [88].” (Adams’ statement was contrary to the “Manzanar Riot;” unless he meant, which he didn’t, that the desert strengthened their resolve to protest.) Adams excluded any no – no’s from his images; except at least one: the infant in the photograph, below, was listed as “disloyal,” according to Seen and Unseen, which states “probably [infant Fukumoto’s] departure to Tule Lake had been delayed to wait until after he was born [92].” No mention of whether his mother stayed at Manzanar or went to Tule Lake. Seen and Unseen states “Ansel believed the faces of earnest young Japanese Americans would convince other Americans how trustworthy and patriotic they were [95].”

Seen and Unseen – pages 92 – 93 – Ansel Adams photograph, 1943, of Nurse Aiko Hamaguchi, mother Frances Yokoyama, [‘disloyal’] baby Fukomoto, Manzanar Relocation Center, California
At his own request—so he could keep photographing—Miyatake and his family were among the last to leave Manzanar in November 1945.
The closing essays of Seen and Unseen are very worthwhile reading. The essays include “After the War” (106, about the struggle to restart their lives while still dealing with racism), “Why Words Matter” (107, including explaining Seen and Unseen’s accurate word usage of “forced removal,” “inmates,” “prisoners,” and “prison camps;” with additional explanation about the usage of “concentration camps”), “Citizenship Violated” (108 – 109; providing some history of mistreatment and exclusions of persons of Asian-descent in the U.S.), “Civil Liberties and the Constitution” (110 – 111; discussing the due process requirement of the Fifth Amendment and cases reaching the U.S. Supreme Court), “Keeping Our Democracy Strong” (111, with closing words that we should all speak out when civil rights are violated, and work toward overturning these wrongs), brief biographies (112 – 113) of Dorothea Lange (1895 – 1965), Toyo Miyatake (1895 – 1979), and Ansel Adams (1902 – 1984); essays from the Author and Illustrator, and “The Damage of the Model Minority Myth” (116 – 117) by Lauren Tamaki; and ending with Notes (118 – 119) and Photo Credits (120 – 123). Again, I recommend Seen and Unseen for at least eighth graders and older.
Seen & Unseen won the 2023 Robert F. Sibert Medal (Administered by the Association for Library Service to Children, “The Sibert Award honors the most distinguished informational book published in English in the preceding year for its significant contribution to children’s literature.”)
Additional Background

By Order of the President (BOotP): FDR and the Internment of Japanese Americans by Greg Robinson provides the politics, decision making, gut punch, fear, racism, and implications to incarcerate Japanese citizens (Nisei) and those not allowed to become citizens (Issei). It doesn’t show the life of the incarcerated Japanese in the War Relocation Centers, the primary incarceration camps; to get information about their lives before and after the incarceration camps, you’ll need to look at the other books under review. I’ll use this non-graphic medicine book and other internet sources to provide some additional background.
Regarding terminology, Franklin Deleno Roosevelt (FDR) called them “concentration camps” publicly on two occasions. I will use incarceration camps and incarcerated. Greg Robinson writes, “‘Relocation’ is inaccurate since the mass removal from the West Coast during 1942 was involuntary and custodial. I use ‘evacuation’ to describe the forced expulsion of these people, the ‘evacuees’ … and only use the terms ‘relocation’ or ‘resettlement’ [for] … voluntary movement [after leaving the camps] … to locations outside the West Coast. [261]”
From the State Department’s Office of The Historian the Immigration Act of 1924 (aka, the Johnson-Reed Act) provided immigrant quota to acquire a visa and “completely excluded immigrants from Asia.” That is, Issei who were born in Japan couldn’t become citizens of the U.S., whereas their U.S. offspring, Nisei, were automatic U.S. citizens by birthright. Note that Chinese citizens “were already denied immigration visas under the Chinese Exclusion Act” of 1882. At the time of the bombing of Pearl Harbor there were about 160,000 Japanese issei or nisei in Hawaii and from the Library of Congress’ website in 1900 there were less than 25,000 Japanese nationals (Issei) in the U.S. with a Japanese national immigration surge of more than 100,000 by 1925 mostly on the Pacific west coast of the U.S. “By 1920, Japanese immigrant farmers controlled more than 450,000 acres of land in California, brought to market more than 10 percent of [California’s] crop revenue, and had produced at least one American-made millionaire.” “By 1930, half of the Japanese in the United States were Nisei—members of the U.S.-born second generation.”
FDR’s Executive Order (E.O.) 9066, dated February 19, 1942 over two months after Pearl Harbor, doesn’t specifically mention any citizenry (i.e., Japanese, German or Italian descended people or others). E.O. 9066 was entitled: “Authorizing the Secretary of War to Prescribe Military Areas.” At that time there was no Secretary of Defense, but the person having the same role was called the Secretary of War. E.O. 9066 stated, in part,
“As President of the United States, and Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy, I hereby authorize and direct the Secretary of War, and the Military Commanders whom he may from time to time designate, whenever he or any designated Commander deems such action necessary or desirable, to prescribe military areas in such places and of such extent as he or the appropriate Military Commander may determine, from which any or all persons may be excluded, and with respect to which, the right of any person to enter, remain in, or leave shall be subject to whatever restrictions the Secretary of War or the appropriate Military Commander may impose in his discretion. The Secretary of War is hereby authorized to provide for residents of any such area who are excluded therefrom, such transportation, food, shelter, and other accommodations as may be necessary, in the judgment of the Secretary of War or the said Military Commander, and until other arrangements are made, to accomplish the purpose of this order.
“I hereby further authorize and direct the Secretary of War and the said Military Commanders to take such other steps as he or the appropriate Military Commander may deem advisable to enforce compliance with the restrictions applicable to each Military area herein above authorized to be designated, including the use of Federal troops and other Federal Agencies, with authority to accept assistance of state and local agencies.
“I hereby further authorize and direct all Executive Departments, independent establishments and other Federal Agencies, to assist the Secretary of War or the said Military Commanders in carrying out this Executive Order, including the furnishing of medical aid, hospitalization, food, clothing, transportation, use of land, shelter, and other supplies, equipment, utilities, facilities, and services.”
From (https://www.archives.gov/milestone-documents/executive-order-9066#transcript
E.O. 9102 signed by FDR on March 18, 1942 created the War Relocation Authority (WRA) which—according to the Hirabayashi v United States Supreme Court decision—allowed “…the Director of War Relocation Authority to formulate and effectuate a program for the removal, relocation, maintenance and supervision of persons designated …”
US Supreme Court (S.C) cases:
Ozawa v United States (1922) upheld the federal government’s right to deny U.S. citizenship to Japanese immigrants (from https://www.archives.gov/milestone-documents/executive-order-9066#transcript)
Korematsu v United States Fred Korematsu, age 23, didn’t report to a relocation center and was arrested by the FBI on May 30, 1942; San Francisco court convicted him for violating E.O. 9066; appeals court agreed; S.C. concurred by 6-3 decision that “detention was a ‘military necessity’ not based on race.”
Hirabayashi v United States (1943, from Library of Congress): Gordon Hirabayshi wasn’t in his residence at the time of ordered curfew (between 8 pm and 6am) under E.O. 9066 and non-compliance with “Civilian Exclusion Order issued by the military commander, failed to report to the Civil Control Station … [as] a preliminary step to the exclusion from that area of persons of Japanese ancestry.” Hirabayashi was a Nisei (U.S. citizen by birthright) and “never been a subject of and had never borne allegiance to the Empire of Japan.” Hirabayashi lived in Seattle Washington. If found not complying would be guilty of a misdemeanor. Justice Murphy concurred but wrote, “Distinctions based on color and ancestry are utterly inconsistent with our traditions and ideals. They are at variance with the principles for which we are now waging war. … Today is the first time, so far as I am aware, that we have sustained a substantial restriction of the personal liberty of citizens of the United States based upon the accident of race or ancestry …In my opinion this goes to the very brink of constitutional power [and] …When the danger is past, the restrictions imposed on them should be promptly removed and their freedom of action fully restored. [page 110 – 114, BOotP]”
Other significant events:
Manzaner Riot – Source: U.S. National Park Service website, Manzaner in eastern-central California was one of the ten Japanese internment camps (aka, War Relocation Centers); by November 1942 over 10,000 Japanese Americans (about two-thirds U.S. citizens) were in overcrowded barracks sharing showers and toilets with any eight people “… allotted a 20-by-25-foot room. An oil stove, a single hanging light bulb, cots, blankets, and mattresses filled with straw were the only furnishings provided.” In the summer the desert heated up to 110oF and below 32oF in the winter. According to BOotP in December 1942 (page 178, BOotP), there were “… several protests and work strikes … [and] the arrest of a popular internee … who had accused Caucasian kitchen staff of theft … a mob marched on the camp stockade, guards dispersed it with bullets and tear gas …” leaving two internees dead and ten wounded.
October 1943, from BOotP, another incarceration camp, Tule Lake Riot—made up of alleged “disloyal” internees—occurred because “… militant internees, provoked by rumors that the vegetables being grown at Tule Lake were being sent to other camps, attempted to stop a convoy of truck from leaving the center and ran into a group of WRA internal security officers. One officer was beaten by the internees, and several internees were beaten in return by security officers. …Military police took over the camp and arrested 350 segregants. Tule Lake remained under martial law until mid-January 1944 [BOotP 200].”
The Manzanar Riot, and unrest in other camps, led to the WRA requiring for everyone—at all the incarceration camps—age 17 or more to fill out a “loyalty” questionnaire with the infamous questions 27 and 28 (provided earlier).
Follow this link to Part 2: a new generation of people outside the incarceration camps providing stories about those inside. Follow this link to Part 3: Incarcerated Japanese Americans telling their own stories.
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[i] See Health Affairs article by Paula A. Braveman, Elaine Arkin, Dwayne Proctor, Tina Kauth, and Nicole Holm, entitled “Systemic and Structural Racism: Definitions, Examples, Health Damages, And Approaches To Dismantling” (https://www.healthaffairs.org/doi/10.1377/hlthaff.2021.01394); Vol. 41, No. 2: Racism & Health issue, p. 171 – 178. This article includes some ways to dismantle systemic racism
[ii] From Smithsonian Magazine, https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smithsonian-institution/how-a-1924-immigration-act-laid-the-groundwork-for-japanese-american-incarceration-180983757/; article entitled How a 1924 Immigration Act Laid the Groundwork for Japanese American Incarceration” by Theodore S. Gonzalves, Curator of National Museum of American History on February 16, 2024.
[iii] The 120,000 was about 100% of all Japanese Americans outside of the Hawaiian territory; and the 21,000 were over 90% of the Japanese Canadians. In both cases most were citizens of the U.S. or Canada, respectively.
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