'Manzanar' author revisits internment in new book

By Tamara Pavich
Special to The Advertiser

•	A reading Jeanne Wakatsuki Houston reading from her new novel, "Fire Horse Woman" 7 p.m. Saturday, Native Books & Beautiful Things, Ward Warehouse Co-sponsored by the journal Manoa

After the 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor, Houston's Inglewood, Calif., family was interned for four years with other Japanese Americans at Manzanar, a camp in the California desert.

Houston's book — co-authored with her husband, novelist James D. Houston — and an award-winning NBC television drama based on it have become classics. Now in its 56th printing, the memoir is required reading in schools across the country. Houston has been honored with a U.S.-Japan Cultural Exchange Fellowship and a Wonder Woman Award, given to women over 40 who have made outstanding achievements in pursuit of truth and positive social change.

The Houstons are in Honolulu, visiting from their Santa Cruz, Calif., home on business and for pleasure. During an interview at the Wailana Coffee House in Waikiki, Houston, 66, appeared radiant in aloha shirt and slippers, her long, black hair streaming out from under a straw hat. She spoke about her new book, which revisits the subject of internment. Her eyes alternately glowed with conviction and glimmered with tears as she also described her experience at Manzanar and its relevance today.

Q. The experience of internment happened to your family when you were quite young. As a child, what was your sense of what was happening?

A. Well, I didn't know what was happening. I was 7 years old, and suddenly my father disappeared, my mother was moving us here and there, and we were going into this camp with soldiers and barbed wire fence. ... Not knowing how to explain politics or war, my mother simply said, "It's because we're Japanese." So in my childish mind, the way I stored that information was to believe that to be Japanese was not only bad, it was criminal. ...

Now today I just weep every time I hear about Arab Americans who are dealing with the same thing, because they are afraid like we were afraid, and it's so important that we do not punish Arab people in this country.

Q. How does today's situation compare with what happened to your family and to Japanese Americans?

A. People say, "This is just like Pearl Harbor," and I say yes and no. In this tragedy, we don't know who the enemy is, for one thing, and also, they have struck at civilians. Certainly the fear is the same, and in some ways the reaction is the same. But the major difference that I see today is that we have media and leaders of the country who are saying, "Remember what happened to the Japanese Americans," and that we must not harass Arab Americans. No one is saying, "The only good Arab is a dead Arab," like they said about the Japanese. So our consciousness has changed in that respect, thank God.

Q. Because of what is happening today, the tragedy in New York and Washington, it seems your work may be even more interesting to Americans of all races.

A. Well, I always say that for Japanese Americans, it took many years for the long march to justice, for redress and apologies. I sincerely believe that it could not have been possible without the sacrifices of the 442nd and all the Nisei veterans. Like the Arab Americans today, the major perception that had to be overcome was that we, the Japanese Americans, were disloyal.

Q. What new things did you have to say about Manzanar in the new novel?

A. I remember as a child that Indian people came to the camp and danced for us. And then, as I was researching, I found out that the land where Manzanar was situated had been the home of the Northern Piute for thousands of years. And if you traveled to Manzanar, you'd see that it has a lot of mana to it, but not the kind that is uplifting. You know something bad has happened there. So I thought I would somehow compare the American Indian experience and their confinement to reservations, which was very similar to ours. Along with that, the novel encompasses the love stories of three women at the camp. But overall, this story is about personal liberation of these women. The theme really is freedom.

Q. So during a time when these people were victims of forced separation, you have introduced stories of connection and love.

A. That's right. The bottom line is the love you have for another human being, only in a bigger sense. And look at this tragedy, what's happened in New York, which we think of as the most cynical, cold, sophisticated, superficial, power-centered place, or that's what we thought New York was. And what happened? This yearning to help one another came pouring out. ...

Q. It must be very rewarding for you to know that your work is being used to teach young people.

A. I've been to a lot of schools, even schools in Southeast Asia. And if we're not aware, if each new generation is not taught in the schools, then we're doomed to do it again. Education is the key. ... Change doesn't happen when life is just going along smoothly. What makes people change is a valley that they enter. It can be a death or a divorce. This tragedy in New York is a deep valley. So we have to say, what can we learn?

Q. I'm struck by your optimism and your appreciation of American democracy, even after it failed you.

A. But look, I'm sitting here talking to you about something wrong that this country did, and I've spoken about it in how many countries and schools? I've written books and made a film about what happened during this experiment. I mean, that's democracy. I'm living proof of it.

Tamara Pavich is the 2001-2002 Abernethy Fellow at Manoa literary magazine.