Manzanar National Historic Site

The paper cranes originally caught my attention, but there were also tokens of small rocks and shells all over the memorial statue.

Japanese prisoners at the internment camp built beautiful meditation gardens in addition to their forced labor activities. They were led by those among them with expertise in gardening and construction.

This, I'm pretty sure, expresses the name of the Japanese leaders from the camp.

Using only materials they could scrounge on hand, like rocks and tree branches unsuitable for traditional lumber, they even made small bridges over water features.

I could look back at my notes from a January day in 2024 when I made this visit to Manzanar National Historic Site and tell you about the history of the place and the types of details that are fresh in your mind when you first learn them. Instead, I am going to tell you what I remember feeling.

Visiting Manzanar made me feel ashamed. Ashamed of myself for not really knowing what had happened here. Ashamed at my country for teaching us all about the concentration camps and work camps in Europe during WWII, but then literally bulldozing over this camp. Many of the rockscapes are still being uncovered by archaeologists.

Having been to a number of historic sites in the past few years, there is almost always at least some local traffic using the paths at the site for taking a walk or a school bus parked outside for a field trip. Not at Manzanar. There was a cut-out of a ranger holding instructions by the front gate instead of a person. It was clear that everything was being done on a shoestring budget. I learned during my tour that survivors' families had either done the fundraising or the actual work to unearth the remains of the camp.

I remember feeling angry. Angry that people had let this happen to other people. Angry that the park was in abysmal shape with overgrown paths, debris from vegetation piled up, and that there was almost no one else there. Most of all, I was absolutely furious that more than half of the stops on the self-guided tour were about the town of Manzanar as it had existed before it was chosen as the place to be a Japanese internment camp. It's what I imagine going to the museum of African American History would be like if an entire floor of exhibits extolled the business acumen and virtues of slave traders.

I called friends from a spot along the back of the camp facing the Sierra Nevada mountains to try and feel real again. I couldn't place my feelings because everything was heightened by being in a place where Americans kept Americans prisoner for the crime of genetics. It was beautiful there, despite the rain and haunting mist; you could see why those interned there would still be moved to make art.

As the world faces continual crises, and there is talk of "relocating" entire populations of people because of their culture or heritage, I want more people to know about Manzanar. I want them to visit, even for an afternoon, and see what fear-mongering about a person because of where they were born does. As the United States considers changing birthright citizenship, I want more Americans to know that choosing who is American enough based on where our parents or grandparents were born has a horrible history of turning into something worse. But most of all, I want people to experience the resiliency of the survivors and their families.

In all of the terrible things that raced through my mind and soul that day, it was such a gift to know that given all the terror, discrimination, and dehumanization, many survivors wanted to use the experience as a lesson and growth opportunity. They worked to have the park declared an historic site. They fundraised for the excavation of buried structures. They collaborated to rebuild the beautiful things built during indescribably dark times. And they keep going back to make sure that the memory cannot be erased; not for spite, but for serenity and reassurance. To remember what should never be allowed to happen again.

If you ever find yourself in southeastern California, please visit Manzanar Historic Site. Tune in to the radio station for it on your drive in. Feel the feelings. Help unearth history one new understanding at a time.