Reflection on my experience with the Masada's! Two Japanese American former Internee's---now married and on a mission to share their story, in hopes what happened to them does not happen to any one else. Japanese Americans were the first people to stand up for Muslim Americans after 9/11.

1. Erika Magnusson
Honors Seminar 401W
24 February 2013
Masada Reflection
I could see the open wound of Marion and Saburo Masada as they bled for the crowd.
Their scars were deep, and they exposed them to us. Two living survivors of the Japanese
American Internment Camps were standing in front of me. Marion wore her strawberry
based lipstick that highlighted her sunken cheekbones and Saburo was handsome in his
slick black-purple accented tux. The two were married now for 57 years. At the ages of
80 and 83, they shared wrinkles with one another - deep lines of joy, trauma, and
forgiveness. I comprehended Marion and Saburo would distrust Caucasian Americans
like me, so I could not understand why they wanted to hug me when I met them. “I give
hugs,” Marion said as she refused to shake my hand.
Marion and Saburo intended to share their story for the event at Minnesota State
University Mankato‟s Japanese American Internment Camp Day of Remembrance. Both
were survivors of the Japanese American Internment Camps. Their childhood years were
spent behind barbed wire in what they called „concentration camps‟ while the American
government called the camps relocation centers or evacuation camps. “You relocate or
evacuate because of a fire or a disaster. We were forced to go to the concentration camps,”
Saburo said.
I asked myself many questions before the event, who were Marion and Saburo Masada
and why did they want to share their story with me? After what our people, we were both
Americans, and our government had done to them, why had they traveled so far from
California to Minnesota to share their story? Why were my ancestors never forced into
concentration camps like Marion and Saburo were? Why did they choose to be
vulnerable in front of us? Marion said, “We wanted to come to Minnesota and share our
story. We were willing to pay to come here.” But why would they offer to waste their
retirement money, what was left of the little they had to begin with because their source
of income was Saburo‟s occupation as Presbyterian Pastor, to tell their narrative of
confinement. Marion said, “I‟m a storyteller,” but I had a feeling there was desire to
share her story for more than just her talent to tell it.
I would later find out that in the government‟s past eyes (or hopefully past eyes- in the
hope that there will not be another racial profiling event like the Japanese American
Internment Camps in America) I am different from Marion and Saburo because I am
Caucasian and they are Japanese American. Marion and Saburo never thought of
themselves as non-Americans and neither had I. It was the American government that had
decided they were not Americans because of their face. My family was spared from the
shame and guilt behind barbed wire of American concentration camps because of my
face. But there is nothing I can do about my face- I was born into it. …And there is
nothing Marion and Saburo could do either.
Marion and Saburo first talked about their family. It reminded me of how my parents
would rather talk about me than themselves. I will probably not understand why parents
choose to talk about their children over themselves until I am a parent myself; however,
their story has taught me the value of protection a parent has for their child. As a child, a

2. Erika Magnusson
Honors Seminar 401W
24 February 2013
parent‟s protection may seem a contradiction to what I want to do and when I want to do
it, but the protection Marion and Saburo received from their parents and then granted to
their children has taught me otherwise.
Marion heard her daughter, Alisa, sing, “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible told me
so,” from the backseat of the car. Alisa was mentally handicapped and the only way she
could express her true emotion, happiness, was to sing. Marion drove away with Alisa
and never looked back because she had witnessed two frightened children at the group
home. The children were silenced to speak just like her daughter. Marion decided she
would not wait another day to remove her daughter from the hostile group home. Alisa
would no longer be told to shush. Marion would protect her child from the silence she
was subject to as a child.
Marion and Saburo shared the burden of a handicap with their daughter Alisa. Marion
and Saburo had (and hopefully still do not have) a handicap of racial profiling and hatred
because of their Japanese ancestry. Alisa is Sansei, third generation and born in the U.S.
during or after WWII, and Marion is Nisei, second generation and born in the U.S before
WWII. Alisa‟s father Saburo was also a Nisei. In comparison with Alisa, Marion and
Saburo were born into their handicap. Alisa was born with a mental disability and Marion
and Saburo were born with a face. Marion and Saburo‟s handicap of a face did not apply
to their daughter Alisa to the extent that it did for Marion and Saburo because they were
second generation and she was third.
Anti-Japanese factions in the 1900‟s gave Marion, Saburo and their parents (first
generation) the handicap of racial profiling and hatred. Marion and Saburo‟s childhood
was subject to Lieutenant John DeWitt‟s order, Executive Order 9066, and Earl Warren‟s
follow-up of Lt. John DeWitt‟s orders, whereas Alisa‟s childhood was not.
Executive Order 9066, Lieutenant John DeWitt‟s order stated that Americans only need
to worry about a few German‟s and Italians some of the time, but that they need to worry
about the Japanese, „Japs‟, all the time, until they are wiped off the face of the map. Earl
Warrens follow up of Lt. John DeWitt‟s order states: the very fact that no Japanese
American has committed any wrong or any sabotage isn‟t proof that they will not do it
when the time comes.
The racial prejudice against Marion and Saburo began in the early 1900‟s with their
families‟ success as farmers. The agricultural success of Marion‟s father and Saburo‟s
father set them up as easy targets for racism. The way their Japanese American Issei
forefathers tilled the leased land that American farmers did not want, hilly coastland of
California and barren land next to the airport, was the reason (unknown to them at the
time) that their Caucasian American friends, teachers and the rest of America called them
„Japs‟. Marion and Saburo were innocent children subject to an „economic rape‟. They
were discriminated against for fear that their father‟s greater agricultural yield on smaller
plots of arable land than American farmers would give their families an economic
advantage over Americans.

3. Erika Magnusson
Honors Seminar 401W
24 February 2013
Marion and Saburo were sent to Japanese „internment camps‟, a euphemism used by the
American government to conceal „concentration camps‟, as children only because of their
faces - their Japanese ancestry. It was assumed that all Japanese Americans were disloyal
to America after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Although racial prejudice against Japanese
Americans began in the early 1900‟s, the American government could use the bombing
of Pearl Harbor to incarcerate Marion, Saburo, each of their families, and 120,000 other
Japanese Americans. In contrast to Marion and Saburo, Alisa‟s handicap as a third
generation Japanese American, Sansei, is her mental disability. Her heritage has nothing
to do with her handicap.
Marion wanted her daughter to thrive and not just survive because Marion‟s childhood
was a matter of survival. Marion‟s face was her worse enemy and her handicap was
shunned. She lost her childhood to care for her family‟s laundry. She had one friend that
was Italian. Her only other friend was the scrub board she spent hours with washing her
family of ten‟s clothes. Marion had to work while other kids played in the concentration
camp. She was silenced to tears, smiles and laughter. Her hands were wrinkled from
scrubbing with water.
“To this day I consider myself half Italian,” Marion said. After the camp, she spent more
time with her only friend‟s Italian family than with her immediate family. Marion cries
when she talks about her Italian family‟s kindness. She was like a daughter to them and
she will be forever grateful for their love. She cried when she talked about her long lost
Italian girlfriend. Marion had lost her real family in the camps; or rather they lost each
other. Marion washed laundry, her sister cared for their newborn sibling, her mother was
a dietician for the whole camp and her father was a cook. Marion never saw much of her
parents or siblings in the camp.
Marion never has forgotten nor will she ever forget one thing her Mother told her in the
camps: “Do not forget your number. Know your number. You will only be known by
your number, not by your name anymore.” Marion could hear her Mother telling her this
today as if it was yesterday. Marion still remembers her number: prisoner 13141.
Marion‟s husband Saburo wanted his daughter Alisa to never stop singing. Saburo
stopped singing a while ago. His siblings and his parents loved America. Saburo said,
“We were 200% American. My parents were living in American for 50 years, but they
were not allowed to be citizens. They taught me to love my country, America, because
they loved their adopted country.” Before the camps, Saburo used to work in the fields
with his father. When they left for the camps they left all of their strawberries behind.
Saburo‟s family was transferred to the local grandstands before they reached their
destined concentration camp in Arkansas. Saburo can still hear the sound of the bugle
signaling a searchlight from the grandstands that went off at 10:00 p.m. every night. The
policeman would knock on their barrack and search with a flashlight. Three weeks after
Saburo‟s family was placed in the Arkansas camp his father died of pneumonia.
Saburo loved the camps because he could play with his friends all day. He never had to
work like he used to. Saburo would not realize till years later that he would trade the days

4. Erika Magnusson
Honors Seminar 401W
24 February 2013
of „fun‟ in the camp for another day with his father in the fields. He just wanted to be
with his father again and not necessarily in the fields. Although Saburo‟s family was
fortunate to have a neighbor look after their farms while they were in the camps (most
people lost everything), things were different after the camps. Saburo did not wish to
harvest the leased land his father used to farm. Saburo was not a child anymore. The
camps had taken his childhood away from him. After the camps, he would never reclaim
the land his father left to harvest as his own because that was past time to him or maybe
no time at all because of the loss of his childhood.
Marion and her husband each share a vivid memory of their childhood in the camps.
Marion never forgot her number, 13141, and Saburo can still hear the sound of the bugle.
Marion and Saburo both left and lost their childhood in the camps.
An audience member at the event asked, “Why did you not rebel in the camps?” Marion
and Saburo replied, “Because our Issei parents protected us, and we thank our parents for
protecting us.” It was the Japanese culture that had saved them from rebelling. Marion
and Saburo were taught as children to survive by accommodating the majority. They
were taught to not stand up. Although this may have been demeaning to their dignity,
their parents‟ submission to superiority protected them in the camps and they are alive
today because of it. Japanese Americans were said to be the „model minority‟ because
they did what the majority wanted them to do. Marion and Saburo‟s mindset of „don‟t
offend anybody- please everybody‟ may have saved both of them in the camps, but they
have the choice to stand up now and they choose to not bow down to anyone.
Marion and Saburo are neither ashamed nor proud of their parents‟ teaching of authority.
The submission to authority as taught by their parents gave them a vocation for their
parental life: to teach the Sansei generation that being labeled a „model minority‟ is not a
complement. They want to teach their children, the remaining Sansei generation, and the
rest of the world how to combat injustice of racial profiling and hatred by exposing the
shame and guilt it causes. Marion and Saburo have dedicated their lives to counteract
what Japanese culture has taught them: to hide and bury their shame and guilt.
There is no hiding anymore for Marion and Saburo. They have taken on the responsibility
to end the cycle of Japanese Americans taking on the role of a „model minority‟. Their
parents Issei ignorance of injustice motivates them to become informed advocates for all
minority groups. It is their parent‟s ignorance that has allowed them to work towards
freeing Japanese Americans from remaining a „model minority‟.
The day Marion took Alisa out of the hostile group home she took a stand against
injustice. She would not allow her daughter to be silenced another day. “Go wait in the
car,” Marion said to her daughter Alisa. Marion went up to the group home caretaker and
told her she was removing Alisa from the group home today. Marion gave no explanation
to why and the caretaker did not question her. Marion left with her daughter and a peace
of mind. “Jesus loves me this I know for the Bible tells me so… little to ones to Him
belong, they are weak, but He is strong,” Alisa sang. Marion heard her daughters voice
and smiled while she drove off.

5. Erika Magnusson
Honors Seminar 401W
24 February 2013
Alisa is safe now. She lives with a Pilipino family and is very happy. Marion and Saburo
thank God everyday that war hysteria, Lt. General John DeWitt‟s orders, Earl Warrens
follow-up of DeWitt‟s orders, and the prejudicial views of Anti-Japanese factions in
California were stopped. Marion and Saburo would never be able to protect their children
in this Sansei generation without the end to the Japanese American Internment camps
(concentration camps) in their Nisei generation. Now that Alisa is safe and doing well,
Marion and Saburo have dedicated their life to share the story of their people - Americans
incarcerated by their own country‟s economic greed, discrimination and military
dictatorship on the West Coast.
I found out on the day that Minnesota State University Mankato hosted the Japanese
American Internment Camps Day of Remembrance, that Marion and Saburo were not
open about their experiences for my sake, for their people, or even for their own sake
(although that was a direct affect of healing), but instead they were bleeding for the sake
of other minority groups. I asked myself, how much can Marion and Saburo continue to
share each time they tell their story? Were there times they could not share certain parts
and other times where they were completely exposed and left open? Marion was
traumatized in the camps when her neighbor girl‟s father molested her. She could not
even scream when it happened and she could not speak about it for a long time afterwards.
Marion could not even tell her mother that she was a victim of rape, and her mother
passed away before she could tell her. Marion did not cry, shudder or question sharing
her past violation with the attendees. What had changed? Why was she, so willing now?
How did she not cry when she talked about it? Marion answered my question when she
said, “Thank you for letting us share our story. It helps us heal too.” Out of shame and
guilt there was forgiveness, consolation and peace.
I struggle to understand Marion and Saburo‟s patriotism to America after the
concentration camps. They have done what I perceived was impossible after their
incarceration- they have worked to restore their feelings of patriotism to the country that
incarcerated them, their own country. Marion said she has resentment for Caucasian
Americans. I would never her blame her for this. Marion could have chosen to be angry
and hide from the world, but instead she humbles herself to speak to America every day.
America is her country too. How beautiful it is that she can bear her cross with humility
and that she is willing to share in suffering with those who made her suffer. Saburo said,
“There are always evil people that hold racist views in every country, but they are the
minority. The majority of the people in America can live in equality with me - a Japanese
American.” He admits that his country made a mistake, but he, unlike many Japanese
Americans refuses to hide the mistake‟s injustice for generations to come.
Marion and Saburo have found their vocation for their years of retirement: to travel the
country and share their wounds with Americans. Unlike Marion and Saburo, most
Japanese American survivors of the Japanese American Internment Camps buried their
story with shame and guilt saying it cannot touch them. Marion and Saburo have bled out
their story countless times. They do not hide. They want to share their story because not
everyone knows about what happened in America to the Japanese Americans. They have

6. Erika Magnusson
Honors Seminar 401W
24 February 2013
a right to protect their Japanese ancestry under the American constitution, and they want
everyone else to know they can protect their ancestry too. Marion and Saburo share in a
united front to teach every person that their ancestry deserves protection under the
American constitution.
After Alisa was taken away from the group home that silenced her or told her “to shush,”
she began to sing. Alisa did not have to bury shame and guilt in a concentration camp
because her parents had already taken on this injustice and suffering. Although Marion
and Saburo were victims of the American Japanese Internment Camps and were forced
into suffering injustice, their suffering is not the same as their daughters. Marion and
Saburo‟s suffering have given Alisa life without injustice. Alisa does not have to suffer
from discrimination for her ancestry. Alisa is an American. She can sing with her
American freedom till the day she dies.