MOTOYA

2009-11-29T02:55:00.000-08:00

2009-11-08T11:30:00.000-08:00

What does it mean to be an American? Is it just a matter of citizenship? If you are not a citizen, I guess you're not allowed to call yourself American. But, what about Chinese and Japanese, Filipino and Korean immigrants who resettled in the United States before the 1965 Immigration Reform Act. They considered the United States as their new homeland, contributing as a major workforce to the building of the county even though the law did not allow them to become a citizen. I believe that they are American enough even without citizenship just because they endured harsh labor condition and wage discrimination to be part of the American history.

I, Too, Sing America

by Langston Hughes

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.

They send me to eat in the kitchen

When company comes,

But I laugh,

And eat well,

And grow strong.

Tomorrow,

I'll be at the table

When company comes.

Nobody'll dare

Say to me,

"Eat in the kitchen,"

Then.

Besides,

They'll see how beautiful I am

And be ashamed--

I, too, am America.

2009-10-24T19:10:00.000-07:00

Visible but Invisible: Asian Americans and Race in America

by Motoya Nakmura

Helen Zia recalls in her book, Asian American Dreams: The Emergence of an American People, having felt puzzled as a child growing up in the United States. The feeling was provoked by the fact that she could not trace any records of contribution by Asian Americans, people like her, to the building of America. Caught in the dominant racial formation of black and white, Asian American history had been intentionally obscured, even though the first Asian migration to America goes back to the mid-eighteenth century, in 1763, when Filipino seamen from Manila, on Spanish ships during Spanish Galleon trade, found their way to Louisiana. It marked the first Asian settlement in the United States. (Okihiro 1994: 38) Chinese merchants and sailors were also present before gold was discovered in California in 1848. (Zia 2000: 26)

This paper’s attempt is to reveal the cause of this invisibility of Asian Americans by examining the Asian American immigration experience from the mid eighteenth century to the mid nineteenth century. The first section will look at common barriers they shared, despite differences in nationality and culture, and their response to these barriers. The second section will look at the different conditions that Asians from different countries faced, breaking into different time periods: pre-World War II, post-World War II and the Communist Revolution in China, along with geographic differences: the U.S. mainland and Hawaii. The third section will look at how the Asian American population has changed since the 1965 Immigration Reform Act.

After the end of the Civil War in 1865, southern plantation owners started hiring Chinese laborers, noncitizens who could not vote, in order to replace freed African American laborers who were entitled to vote, so that the planters could keep cheap labor and maintain their white political supremacy. All Asian Americans, as part of the political agenda of whites, were caught in the largely black and white interpretation of the naturalization law, a law which was passed in 1790 and amended after the Civil War. Despite their nationalities, they were not granted naturalized citizenship until the mid twentieth century, even though they were a major work force that contributed to the wealth of American industries. The laws and legislation that deprived Asian Americans of legal rights and political power became the biggest barrier that Asian Americans faced through their journey to make America their home. The 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act, for example, prohibited Chinese laborers immigration to the United States and kept Chinese Americans from becoming citizens. This marked the first legislation that Congress passed based on race. Also, the 1924 Immigration Act banned the immigration by anybody who was ineligible for citizenship, which include all Asians except Filipinos. Asian Americans were not only kept from being citizens but also from owning land in the United States. By 1913, many states prohibited Asian Americans from owning land. The 1920 Alien Land Law prohibited anyone of Asian ancestry from owning land.

Some Asian Americans brought their frustrations to court. It was, however, in vain. In 1922, Takao Ozawa’s hope to become an American was shattered by the U.S. Supreme Court. Associate Justice George Sutherland ruled, “the applicant is clearly of a race which is not Caucasian, and therefore belongs entirely outside the zone on the negative side,” (Okihiro 1994: 61)

Though Asian Americans from different countries share similar experiences in terms of exploitation, marginalization and racism, the different time periods brought starkly different experiences to the various Asian populations.

World War II changed significantly the status of Japanese, Chinese and Filipinos in very different ways. As soon as Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, anti-Japanese sentiment spread rapidly throughout the United States, particularly affecting Japanese Americans in the West Coast states. During this same period, China and the Philippines became allied forces with the United States against Japan. Chinese and Filipino Americans who had been called racial slurs like “monkeys,” and “rat-eaters,” became regarded as beloved friends. Time magazine even published illustrated tips on how to tell Chinese friends from Japanese enemies. (Zia 2000: 39) In addition, the Chinese, in 1943, and the Filipino and Asian Indian populations, in 1946, were allowed to become naturalized citizens.

Amidst the atmosphere of hatred toward Japanese Americans, on February 19, 1942, President Roosevelt issued Executive Order 9066, authorizing the evacuation and internment of Japanese Americans that included American-born Niseis (second generation), who were American citizens by birth. 120,000 Japanese Americans were interned at ten internment camps in California, Idaho, Wyoming, Utah, Arizona, Colorado and Arkansas, where they lived without privacy in dusty prison-styled barracks throughout the duration of the war.

Despite the way they were treated in their homeland, many Nisei Japanese Americans fought against Nazi Germany to prove their loyalty and patriotism. Most of them belonged to the segregated U.S. Army 442 Regimental Combat Team, which became the most decorated unit in U.S. military history for its size and length of service. Members of the 442 were among the first to liberate concentration camp victims in Dachau, Germany. U.S. Military commanders, embarrassed by the fact that the family members of the Japanese American soldiers were interned in their own homeland, decided against publicizing the contribution these men made. (Zia 2000: 43)

Another example of how the specific time period affected certain Asian Americans groups was the Communist Revolution and the Korean War. Shortly after Chinese were treated as allied friends, they became enemy aliens like the Japanese during World War II. Ironically, because of this antagonism against the Chinese, Japanese and Korean Americans were finally entitled to citizenship in 1952.

The geographical differences between the U.S. mainland and Hawaii also created very different Asian American immigration experiences. The biggest difference between Asian Americans in the U.S. mainland and those in Hawaii was their population ratio. In 1920, the Asian population was only 0.17 percent of the whole mainland population. In Hawaii, however, the Asian population was 62 percent of the whole island population. (Takaki 1998: 132) This majority race status played a big role in the empowerment of Asian American laborers in Hawaii. After the 1900 Organic Act that annexed Hawaii to the U.S. territory, the preexisting contract labor system at sugar plantations ended, leaving all Asian Americans free from their contracts. The unfair and race based labor conditions had been common in both the mainland and Hawaii. Asian laborers were consistently paid much less than their white working class counterparts. However, empowered by their free worker status and their majority population status, they organized strikes to protest against the harsh and unfair labor conditions at sugar cane plantations. This labor activism succeeded in ending the unfair wage system that previously existed.

Beyond these plantations, Asian American laborers on the mainland became targets of violent racism by their white working class counterparts, who were in the majority. Many anti-Asian riots, lynching and massacres by white mobs occurred. In addition to the anti-Asian movement, many Asian Americans faced marginalization by their white employers. The majority of laborers for The Central Pacific Railroad were Chinese Americans. After completion of the transcontinental railroad, Chinese laborers were not even invited to the celebrations, during which European laborers were congratulated for their contribution. The railroad company not only fired all the Chinese laborers but did not allow them to ride on the very railroad they helped build. (Zia 2000: 27)

Until the mid-20th century, most Asian Americans were involved in hard physical labor in agricultural, mining, and railroad industries. Even in the cities, they worked mainly as domestic servants. However, global politics started changing the status of many Asian Americans. World War II helped skilled Chinese and Filipino find better jobs in the war industries, which had been previously unavailable to them. After the 1949 Chinese Communist Revolution, thousands of well-educated Chinese elites, such as scientists and engineers, found refuge in the United States, escaping the political atmosphere of their homeland. This added many Asian Americans among other skilled professionals.

The Immigration Reform Act in 1965 provided a more dramatic change for Asian Americans. Pressured by the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s, the new act took away many race-based restrictions from the old immigration act. The change impacted not only the increase of Asian populations but also the increase of a more skilled and educated Asian American population. According to the 2003 Statistical Yearbook of the Immigration and Naturalization Service, out of about 10 million Asians who immigrated to the United State between 1820 and 2004, 8.6 million entered the United States since 1971. (Fong 2008: 28)

Manufacturing industries left the United States to seek cheaper labor in less-developed countries such as China and India, Thailand, Indonesia, Malaysia and the Philippines. Conversely, demand for specialized laborers who could help the United States compete in the global economy, increased. The new immigration law supported family reunification and added a category for skilled professionals in short supply. This encouraged a significant number of foreign-born Asian students to get advanced degrees in specialized fields in demand such as engineering and computer science. Many got jobs, stayed, and brought their families to the United States, creating a new wave of Asian migration. This current migration of educated and specialized Asian Americans contributed to the drastic increase of a successful middle class population within the Asian American population.

Another new layer to Asian American history occurred as a result of the American defeat in the Vietnam War in 1975. This caused a massive wave of refugees from Southeast Asian countries such as Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia, who entered the United States to escape political persecution.

Global politics that impacted the United States and its resident ethnic groups, such as World War II and the Chinese Communist Revolution, escalated animosity toward Asian Americans living in the United States. Empowered by the fact that the majority of the Hawaiian population was Asian American, Asian Americans in Hawaii were more resilient against racial discrimination and harsh labor conditions than their brethren in the US mainland. However, from the Chinese “coolies” who were brought to the southern plantations to replace African slaves in the mid 19th century, to Japanese Americans who were interned like prisoners during World War II, Asian Americans shared common barriers that kept them from planting roots in the United States.

The contributions of Asian Americans throughout the century live in the shadow of American history. Since the 1965 Immigration Reform Act, a sizable number of well-skilled and educated Asian Americans have achieved high status in the American society. The trend of Asian American immigration has drastically changed. However, the marginalization of Asian Americans seems far from over. In 2004, Pubic Television (PBS) broadcast a four-hour series called They Made America, which featured the most influential people who contributed to commercial milestones. No Asian Americans were mentioned. (Fong 2008: 17) In 2005, more than 30,000 Vietnamese Americans were affected by Hurricane Katrina, but media coverage excluded the Vietnamese American victims, focusing only on black and white victims. (Fong 2008: 37)

These incidents, coupled with the long history of oppression and invisibility of Asian Americans, might lead current Asian American children to wonder, as Helen Zia did, why Asian Americans contributions to the building of America are missing in history.

Bibliography

Fong, Timothy P. “The History of Asians in America.” In The Contemporary Asian AmericanExperience, 3rd ed. 17-40. New Jersey: Pearson Prentice-Hall, 2008.

Okihiro, Gary. “Is Yellow Black or White.” In Margins and Mainstreams: Asians in American History and Culture. 31-63. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1994.

Takaki, Ronald. “Dollar a Day, Dime a Dance: The Forgotten Filipinos.” In Strangers from a Different Shore: A History of Asian Americans. 315-354. Boston: Little, Brown & Company Limited, 1989.

Takaki, Ronald. “Raising Cane: The World of Plantation Hawaii.” In Strangers from a Different Shore: A History of Asian Americans. 132-176. Boston: Little, Brown & Company Limited, 1989.

Takaki Ronald. “The Tide of Turbans: Asian Indians in America.” In Strangers from a Different Shore: A History of Asian Americans. 294-314. Boston: Little, Brown & Company Limited, 1989.

Zia, Helen. “Surrogate Slaves to American Dreamers.” In Asian American Dreams: The Emergence of an American People. 21-52. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2000.

Double Identity

2009-10-15T21:22:00.000-07:00

I have been thinking about ideas of double identity – of ethnicity and nationality, which all minorities living in the dominant culture in the United States might share.

As a Japanese person living in the United States, I struggle sometimes with having to navigate between the cultures. These starkly different worlds live inside me and at times feel irreconcilable.

W.E.B Du Bois wrote about a kind of “double consciousness” in an Atlantic Monthly essay in 1897:

The Negro is a sort of seventh son, born with a veil, and gifted with second-sight in the American world, --- a world which yields him no self-consciousness, but only lets him see himself through the revelation of the other world. It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his two-ness, an American, a Negro: two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.

The definition and experience of the word “double consciousness” during the era is much different now. But the concept of the word still lingers.

Color Yellow

2009-10-02T20:11:00.001-07:00

More than fifteen years ago, I had to fill out some U.S. government form to reenter to the United States from Japan at the American Embassy located in Osaka, Japan. On the form there was a section to check not just which race you identified as, but what color group you belonged to. There were white, black, red, and yellow to choose from. Honestly speaking, I was not sure about that question, although I suppose I should have understood the question. I was so puzzled that I started looking around for help. I spotted a middle-aged, nicely dressed Asian man nearby. I could not tell his ethnicity, so I decided to speak to him in English. I showed him the question on the form and asked, “Which color I should check here?” Without hesitation, he told me, “Yellow.”

My MFA proposal

2009-05-26T12:37:00.000-07:00

Proposal by Motoya Nakmaura

I started my autobiographical project based on experiencing a déjà-vu-like sensation: “I have been here,” which occurred one day while visiting Oaks Park. By photographing there, I traced the origin of that sensation to my childhood memory. My grandmother used to take me to Higashiyama Koen, a neighborhood amusement park in Japan, almost every weekend. She died when I was twelve. I have photographed Oaks Park many times throughout the last two years in an attempt to reconstruct these childhood memories. I photographed strangers as well as my family: my wife and two children. During this process, I started recognizing a connection between photographs I made at Oaks Park and photographs I made in Japan. I could particularly see this in a photograph I took of my mother with my son, Akira. This expanded the theme of my project to include things like family genealogy.

Studio visits through the year from the MFA faculty members, visiting artists (Stephanie Smith, Larry Sultan and Doug Blandhy) and fellow MFA students helped me to realize that the common thread that runs through the photographs I have created for this project is the fact that I left home to create a new life but have been continually pulled in two opposing directions: my old life and the new one I created in the United States. Through my photographs, I began to explore my identity as a first generation immigrant who came to this country from Japan at the age of twenty-six.

From the time I came to the United States as a student in 1989 to the present, I have somehow managed to get jobs and to build my life with my wife and two children. I did not even go home to Japan for the first three years, partly because I was challenging myself to succeed here. I didn’t even think about the complexity that the future would bring. The older I got, the more nostalgic I began feeling about Japan. I don’t like to use the word “nostalgic” but I can’t quite find a better word. Homesick? It might be that. Too many years have passed since I left Japan. The Japan that I know does not even exist any longer. The Japanese side of my family, including my aging parents, still live there. My mother was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. She is eighty-one years old. Do I go back there? I don't know. My wife is of Irish-Jewish descent from Massachusetts and we have two children who are native Oregonians. It’s not up to me alone to make the decision to return to Japan. Moving there would mean leaving their home country for my wife and children. I am not even sure that it would really mean going home for myself anymore.

I grapple with isolation, which is caused by my inability to assimilate completely in this culture and with the English language. The United States is a nation of immigrants. People from all over the world have left their native lands to live here. During the major immigration period up to World War I, however, there were ethnic neighborhoods built by European immigrants. In modern days, ethnic neighborhoods have been inhabited by a third wave of immigrants: Mexicans, Vietnamese, and Koreans, for example. There once were Japanese neighborhoods throughout the West Coast states. They were dispersed during World War II by the government’s wartime relocation to internment camps of both first and second generation Japanese Americans.

People have dealt with isolation by sticking together, forming neighborhoods and subcultures within their same ethnic group. I do not have such a place to belong to here. I only have my immediate family and a few friends here in Portland. Blood families, both mine and my wife’s, live far away in Japan and on the East Coast. I think many people can identify with this type of isolation, and the complexity that it brings to life. My project is to create an autobiographical body of work that allows audience a chance to reflect on their own lives, and also helps them to appreciate the beauty and wonder that memories of the past have the potential to create.

2009-02-17T12:24:00.000-08:00

Still There

2009-02-17T12:13:00.000-08:00

The exhibition of my photographs, in which I pondered on a life of cherry blossoms, are still there on the wall of Kaul Auditorium at Reed College.

2009-01-18T23:07:00.000-08:00

Memory fades but unconscious memory remains.

"I have been here."

Memory

2008-12-10T17:01:00.000-08:00

Everything I photograph instantly becomes a memory. But does the photograph depict exactly what I think I saw or experienced? Wright Morris in his book Time Pieces describes, "The mind is its own place, the visible world is another, and visual and verbal images sustain the dialogue between them." This sentece makes me somehow comfortable. I might be able to depict what exactly I experienced but I could still support that by describing what I experience in words.

Some memory could be a very important hint to figure out what you are now in a psychotherapeutic way. I use photography to archive my elusive memories. Morris also says, "The effort to check what is slipping., to hold what is escaping, is the response of a more experienced observer than the young man who took the first pictures." That is very interesting that I have been photographing since 1989. Yet, I have just started to explore this realm.

2008-12-04T11:56:00.000-08:00

I don't even remember when I publish one of my photographs with an intention to talk about my childhood memory. The blogging itself was somewhat overwhelming to me even though this is the way now. Well, I am ready to talk about my childhood and start to articulate what lies beneath the surface of my photographs. "Ready..... start!!!"

I always have to talk about this photograph of a man on the stilts. When I photographed this scene, something deep inside me triggered my childhood memory. When I was 10 or eleven, I was obsessed with old European black&white cinemas, which was broadcasted late at night in Nagoya, Japan, where I grew up. Many of the movies showed traveling circuses and gypsy bands. The scenes fascinated me so much, I recall that I thought, as a little kid, that they would take me into the movies with them. I even felt insecure but exciting at the same time. It was a kind of belonging which I was feeling intuitively.

I felt the same belongingness when I took the photograph. He belonged to the Marchfourth Marching Band, parading on N. Mississippi Avenue on Mardi Gras. I followed them like a kid who follows a gypsy band.

Since then, my focus on photography made a major turn toward a more personal and autobiographical direction. Getting married and having two boys gives me more profound experience as a human being: it also gets your life more complex and busier. Reaching the middle age and the current global economic crisis , in addition, almost forces me think about the concept of time. "What is this feeling of rush?" and I response to myself, "Slow down."

Urich Wilmers in his essay "Remembering Tomorrow" describes, "The phenonmena of time and space are fundamental conditions of our being in the world. We experience our existence in an awareness of its finiteness. We can neither speed them up nor slow them down." However, photography, film and video allow us to argue that the past could be alterable. Since Muybridge's photographic research on a horse's movement, Many artists express their interest in the concept of time and space such as Andy Warhol's Empire (1964), Douglas Gordon's 24 Hour Psycho (1993), Bill Viola's The Greeting (1995) and Hiroshi Sugimoto.

MOTOYA-PORTLAND

2008-10-15T16:16:00.000-07:00