Dear UUCV Members and Friends,
As your Board President who is of Japanese ancestry, I have felt increasingly compelled to speak out against the increasing, horrific racism and violence against Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders (AAPI). A recent media account reported nearly 3800 incidents across the country since the beginning of the pandemic. And this is considered to be a fraction of the true total.
Of course, violence and discrimination towards AAPI people are not new phenomena. From the infamous massacre of Chinese Americans in Los Angeles in 1871 to the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 to laws prohibiting land ownership by Asians in the 1920’s to the relocation of Japanese Americans during World War II, legal sanctions as well as overt racist violence towards AAPI communities have a long history. My parents and three older siblings were part of the relocation of Japanese Americans during World War II. They were sent to the infamous Tule Lake relocation center and later to Amache, Colorado.
Prior to World War II, my three siblings were born in the Japanese Hospital of Los Angeles, a hospital that was founded because Japanese immigrants were not allowed to use white hospitals. As a result of the relocation, my parents lost the grocery store and five & dime store they operated in LA’s little Tokyo. I can only imagine the overt racism members of my family experienced.
My mother was the oldest of nine children. Seven of her siblings also went to relocation camps. One sibling, an uncle I never met, died when the Hiroshima bomb fell. The other sibling, my aunt Alice, survived the atomic bomb but lost her husband and young daughter. Remarkably, Alice just turned 100. By the way, all nine children in my mother’s family were American citizens. Two of my uncles volunteered to serve in the U.S. Army after being released from camp.
I was born shortly after World War II ended and did not experience the same level of overt racism. I grew up in Denver, Colorado, the nearest large city after my parents were released from the Amache relocation camp. I certainly recall racial taunts directed at me from time to time. Being called a “chink” and a “Jap” were probably the most common. The 1950’s were not that far removed from World War II and there were still hard feelings about the war, even though the great majority of Japanese Americans were American citizens.
My family moved back to California when I was age 12. We lived in Gardena, at the time the mainland city with the highest percentage of Japanese Americans outside of Hawaii. Racial tensions were a fact of life. The Gardena Buddhist Church I attended was set on fire in two arson incidents. When the Vietnam War broke out in the 1960’s, Asian Americans again became easily identified targets for hostility. I still remember a high school friend who was drafted talk about being singled out by his platoon leader, who proclaimed to gathered American soldiers: “This is what a Gook looks like.”
AAPI people occupy a peculiar place among peoples of color. On the one hand, we are sometimes under the radar or even held up as “model minorities.” Japanese Americans, especially, have often been cited for being successful academically and assimilating well into the dominant culture. Certainly, there are wealthy and successful Asian Americans. But AAPI peoples represent diverse, multicultural histories and traditions. There are plenty of poor, struggling AAPI who live in poverty and are struggling to survive.
AAPI people can also become highly visible, especially during times of economic or political stress. It becomes convenient to blame AAPI folks for the “Kungflu” or “China virus.” The late Vincent Chin was murdered in Detroit in 1982 because two white men thought he was Japanese and should be blamed for the decline of American automakers. Asian Americans were targeted after the outbreak of the Korean and Vietnam Wars as well as World War II.
As an adult, I have often experienced interactions that tell me I am seen as different. Perhaps the most common one is “where are you from?” I know I am not being asked if I am from Denver, Gardena, Los Angeles, Santa Clarita, or Oxnard, all places I have lived. I am sorry that I have to explain I am not a math wizard, am not crazy about sushi, like VWs more than Toyotas, and am not fluent in Japanese. Stereotypes sometimes worked in my favor. I recall that bullies in elementary school thought I knew karate so left me alone.
Madelaine and I moved to Oxnard in 2015, attracted in part because of Oxnard’s diversity. Japanese Americans have a long history in the city. They famously worked the strawberry fields in the area. Two of Oxnard’s mayors were of Japanese ancestry. The Oxnard Buddhist Church was founded in 1929.
I am especially proud that the Oxnard City Council recently passed a resolution condemning racism, xenophobia, violence, and hate crimes against Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders. The resolution was initiated by white and Latino council members. I have noted that many key members of Oxnard city government, from citizen advisory groups to the Mayor to the City Council to the City Manager and city staff are people of color. It is a great thing that city governance reflects the diversity of the community.
I am also happy that the UUA recently acknowledged the surge in hate crimes against Asians and Asian Americans. It called upon federal, state, and local governments to send a clear message that anti-Asian violence and harassment will not be tolerated. The UUA recognized that anti-AAPI racism is rooted in the same white supremacy that targets all BIPOC people. White supremacy culture is so deeply rooted in our country’s history that it remains one of the great challenges of our time. It is the source of systemic racism that seeks to marginalize all people who are seen as different.
I especially appreciate the UU principles that affirm the inherent worth and dignity of every person, and that we should seek justice, equity, and compassion in human relations. It is with interest that I note a recent movement towards forming AAPI caucuses within UUA regions and the Diverse Revolutionary Unitarian Universalist Multicultural Ministries (DRUMM).
I am hopeful that UUCV will continue to promote a healthy examination of race relations, both internally and beyond church boundaries. Programs such as Beloved Conversations, Witnessing Whiteness, and the formation of a cluster-wide BIPOC Caucus offer opportunities to promote multiculturalism and better race relations. I encourage all of us to take advantage of these kinds of opportunities. Understanding our own attitudes about race and working towards racial equality are long-term challenges that require patience and a commitment to intentional change.
Be well,
Yukio Okano
UUCV Board President
