This episode delves into the complex intergenerational impacts of identity and citizenship within a Japanese American family, particularly focusing on the decisions made by Koji’s grandfather, Takaiichi Sakai, during his incarceration in a WWII concentration camp. Featuring actor Derek Mio, the episode combines personal stories with historical analysis, exploring themes of loyalty, cultural belonging, and the heavy consequences of choosing between nationalities. Through candid conversations and reenactments, the hosts examine the lasting effects of their ancestors' choices on their own identities and the broader community.
ABOUT OUR READER
Derek Mio is an actor and comedian from Huntington Beach, CA. He portrays real-life recipient Hiroshi "Hershey" Miyamura in the Netflix anthology series Medal of Honor--executive produced by Robert Zemeckis--and is the lead actor in the second season of the critically acclaimed AMC anthology series The Terror co-starring George Takei and executive produced by Ridley Scott. He is the creator and host of 'The BudoComedy Show' held at the Terasaki Budokan non-profit rec center in Little Tokyo, downtown Los Angeles featuring comedians such as Atsuko Okatsuka, Al Madrigal, Sheng Wang, Ian Bagg and more--the show has raised over $10,000 for the facility. Derek earned a Bachelor of Arts from USC's School of Cinematic Arts. His hobbies include surfing, fishing, birding, and wrangling his 2-year-old son.
ABOUT US
Welcome to "Japanese America," where the Japanese American National Museum unveils captivating stories that add a Nikkei slant to the American narrative. In each episode, we explore Japanese Americans' unique experiences, challenges, and triumphs, illuminating their rich contributions to the mosaic of American life. From historical milestones to contemporary perspectives, join us for an insightful journey showcasing the diverse tapestry of a community that has shaped the American story in extraordinary ways. Welcome to "Japanese America," where each story unfolds like a chapter in a living history book.
For more information about the Japanese American National Museum, please visit our website at www.janm.org.
CREDITS
The music was created by Jalen Blank
Written by Koji Steven Sakai
Hosts: Michelle Malazaki and Koji Steven Sakai
Edited and Produced by Koji Steven Sakai in conjunction with the Japanese American National Museum
This episode delves into the complex intergenerational impacts of identity and citizenship within a Japanese American family, particularly focusing on the decisions made by Koji’s grandfather, Takaiichi Sakai, during his incarceration in a WWII concentration camp. Featuring actor Derek Mio, the episode combines personal stories with historical analysis, exploring themes of loyalty, cultural belonging, and the heavy consequences of choosing between nationalities. Through candid conversations and reenactments, the hosts examine the lasting effects of their ancestors' choices on their own identities and the broader community.
ABOUT OUR READER
Derek Mio is an actor and comedian from Huntington Beach, CA. He portrays real-life recipient Hiroshi "Hershey" Miyamura in the Netflix anthology series Medal of Honor--executive produced by Robert Zemeckis--and is the lead actor in the second season of the critically acclaimed AMC anthology series The Terror co-starring George Takei and executive produced by Ridley Scott. He is the creator and host of 'The BudoComedy Show' held at the Terasaki Budokan non-profit rec center in Little Tokyo, downtown Los Angeles featuring comedians such as Atsuko Okatsuka, Al Madrigal, Sheng Wang, Ian Bagg and more--the show has raised over $10,000 for the facility. Derek earned a Bachelor of Arts from USC's School of Cinematic Arts. His hobbies include surfing, fishing, birding, and wrangling his 2-year-old son.
ABOUT US
Welcome to "Japanese America," where the Japanese American National Museum unveils captivating stories that add a Nikkei slant to the American narrative. In each episode, we explore Japanese Americans' unique experiences, challenges, and triumphs, illuminating their rich contributions to the mosaic of American life. From historical milestones to contemporary perspectives, join us for an insightful journey showcasing the diverse tapestry of a community that has shaped the American story in extraordinary ways. Welcome to "Japanese America," where each story unfolds like a chapter in a living history book.
For more information about the Japanese American National Museum, please visit our website at www.janm.org.
CREDITS
The music was created by Jalen Blank
Written by Koji Steven Sakai
Hosts: Michelle Malazaki and Koji Steven Sakai
Edited and Produced by Koji Steven Sakai in conjunction with the Japanese American National Museum
Michelle, how well did you know your grandparents? What kind of people were they? I don't know much about my grandparents, but I think they are good people because, um, they are my ancestors. Do you really think that? Yeah. Why not? You know, everyone tells me that my grandpa, the one that's a subject of the story, was not a nice person. No. Yeah. My dad had a really tough relationship with him. And so, you know, like, you know how. I mean, I don't think he was abused or anything, but, you know, when you have, like, a strict parent, there's two outcomes. One is you become like like them or you do the opposite. And one of the reasons my dad was really, really nice was I think that his dad was kind of a jerk to him, and so he was really extra nice to me. So that makes you a jerk? Yeah, I'm kind of mean to my kid. He's gonna think like my dad was an asshole, but it's only to help him get better. That's what I would say. Welcome, welcome, welcome to episode number five of the Japanese America Podcast. My name is Michelle and I'm one of your hosts. And I'm Koji. I am one of the other hosts. This is the second part of the story about my grandpa. We highly recommend that if you haven't already listened to part one, you go and do that before you listen to this episode. Koji, how are things going? Things are well. You know, we're in the middle of summer, I think. You think. It's always summer. It's always summer. Everything's good. It's probably really hot right now, so I don't want to be outside. Haha. What about you? Um, yeah, I'm staying inside. I don't want to be scorched. this is where we look at all things Japanese American. We'll bring alive the history, culture, and people that make up this diverse community. In the last episode, we discussed Takaichi Sakai and his arrest following Pearl Harbor. Then he was given a loyalty questionnaire while in the Topaz concentration camp. He answered no no to questions 27 to 28. Koji, should we get started? Let's get started. After my grandparents answered no no to questions 27 and 28, the whole family was sent to Tule Lake, Northern California, a camp that was designated for, quote, bad Japanese-Americans. In other words, those who had answered the loyalty questionnaire negatively or had caused trouble in quotes. It was in Tule Lake that my grandparents and thousands of Japanese Americans like them, willingly gave up their American citizenship and asked to be sent to Japan. His decision would forever brand him a traitor within the Japanese American community and the nation at large. This is the application he signed. We brought back actor and comedian Derek Mio to help bring the report to life. I, Takaichi Sakai, hereby state that I am a United States citizen and desire to renounce my United States nationality pursuant to section 401 of the Nationality Act of October 14th, 1940, as amended by Public Law 405. While trying to renounce his citizenship, he said anything to ensure he got his wish. In this transcript of the renunciation of citizenship hearing, he said the following. In this clip, we brought my friend, my co-host for the unofficial official story and comedian Dwayne Perkins to ask the questions. Why were you interned and your brothers were not? I was working for the Japanese consulate in Honolulu. What kind of position did you have in the Japanese consulate? I was a clerk. Why didn't you go back to Japan when the diplomats were taken back? At first, I asked the consul to take me back, but he said I can't go because I'm a citizen of the United States government. And the United States government might stop me from leaving the United States, so I can't go. I had all my intention of going back to Japan. Why have you made this application to renounce your United States nationality? Well, I always had the idea of going back to Japan from the very beginning. And I like Japan, and I have my relatives there, and I know many people, the former consul and secretary there. And I think I have more future in Japan. You feel, because you worked for the Japanese consul in Hawaii that you might get a job in Japan? No, I like to go to Japan. I don't like Hawaii. There is no chance for us. I realize that more than ever. Don't you think you would like to stay on the mainland of the United States? No. I never knew whether he gave up his citizenship willingly or because of outside pressure. Without being able to ask him, I could only assume he was so upset and bitter about the events after Pearl Harbor that he preferred to be in a war torn Japan rather than his native country. And the thing is, I would have been bitter, too. All my life I've been taught about equal rights, the Constitution, Bill of rights, and how America is the home of the free and the land of the brave, only to find out that it's not for everyone. It can change, and depending on whom we are currently at war with. In that light, if I were my grandfather and everything that happened to him had also happened to me, I may have made the same decision. But in the FBI file that I found, he explained in his own words why he renounced his citizenship. I was at block 16, Tule Lake with my family. I did not know whether the camp would close or stay open, and I heard different things that I might be sent outside of camp. And a number of men said that we could not tell for sure how things were going, and we had to be prepared. I did not want to take the chance of being separated from my wife and three children, and I thought that if we were sent outside together, that I could not provide a livelihood for my family, or even know that we could live in safety. Toshihiro Nakayama, member of the Seinendan who lived in our block 16, and also his mother, Mrs. Tachibana, and other people, and also newspaper reports, told us about how dangerous it was outside of camp for people of our race. Mr. Chuman block, 16, officer of Seinendan and Mr. Nakayama and others two said we could stay safely in camp just like aliens if we renounced citizenship and would not have to relocate until after the war ended and people lost their hostility to us. They said also, if we really did get deported to Japan and had U.S. citizenship, we'd be put in jail or into a Japanese internment camp. All of my family feared harm from the organization of Mr. Chuman and Toshiro Nakayama, both officer and member of Seinendan living in our block 16 were against us and thought us to be US spies if we didn't make an application for renunciation, if something goes wrong, we feared we'd be first victims. Also, we were very afraid. If we didn't renounce, we'd be separated and have to face relocating with three children. We couldn't face separation and we couldn't think of relocating in dangerous area on mainland US, where we were not known and hadn't anything, neither home or money or no friends to help us out. We were afraid for ourselves and three children. Only way we could do was to renounce and stay safe in camp with children and the pressure group people wouldn't bother us anymore. We were afraid of the organizations Mr. Chuman, Rev Tsuya, Toshiro Nakayama and their followers. I'd been called kokuzoku or Spy by Mr. Chuman and Mr. Nakayama. I never become a member of the Dan, but there was a lot of pressure on me to become a member, and I was worried that I might get into some trouble in camp for not getting on the membership list. Mr. Nakayama and Mrs. Tachibana said that I was not recognized as a citizen, that I would be deported and may be punished by the Japanese government if I did not become a member. My wife was frightened and worried about the Dan activities and the trouble that was stirred up in camp, and also that we might become separated. I believe that for my family protection and welfare that I should go ahead and renounce citizenship. Similar to the. No. No answer. His reason for giving up his citizenship was more nuanced than I had assumed. The most striking thing about his explanation was that it was never about disloyalty or hatred of America. His decision was based on bad information, fear of separation from his family, fear of the Japanese government, and fear of other Japanese Americans in Tule Lake. Michelle, hearing all of this, what do you think? This is awful. Like, you know, the Japanese culture they have, like ostracizing in a group or \in a village. You hear about it like morihachibu. And if you don't belong to that 80% of the village, then you're the 20% of the village and you are ostracized. And this is what's happening. It's awful. I mean, one of the things that that I think about is that how terrible would have been if he had gone back to Japan, I mean, this was a terrible time in Japan. And I mean, does he speak Japanese at all? No, he did, He did. My grandfather worked for the Japanese consulate. Oh, yeah. So he would have spoke Japanese. My dad and his siblings, I'm not sure. I don't think they went to Japanese school, but I don't think that they were fluent in Japanese. They would have trouble. But more, I mean, more importantly than even speaking Japanese, I think was how, uh, devastated Japan was. I mean, you know, this is post, uh, Tokyo firebombing. This is post Hiroshima, Nagasaki. They would have been going to a place where everything was destroyed. No food, no water, nothing. And I don't know, in Japan, people really don't like people who goes back, who go back to Japan from like, America or Western country and say, hey, I'm from America and they just don't like you. Yeah. And. I had a hard time. Yeah. So, uh, this would be awful for him to, you know, go back. Yeah, I remember as a as a kid, my mom would say I'm Japanese, I'm Japanese. And then I went to Japan and people were not nice to me. Yeah. And then I said, well, I guess I'm not Japanese, but then I'm like, well, I'm not American because I look like this and so what am I? But now in Japan nowadays is a little better, It's a little bit better. But yeah, But before even the 80s, it was kind of, you know, like Tokyo was okay, but you got outside of Tokyo was getting kind of rough around. They are okay with like white people, black people, Latin American people. But if you look like Japanese and don't speak the right Japanese, then they might be tough. Yeah, that's why it's easier for me to speak English in Japan and just act like I don't know anything than to speak Japanese, because my Japanese has an American accent. So it sounds like funny. Like if a Caucasian person spoke like me, they would be super excited because it'd be like, oh, he's trying. He's trying to be, you know, but if I speak it, they think they look at me like I'm mentally challenged. So it's been tough. The thing is that's interesting is that in Japan, you know, like in your face, they're very like they're very friendly and smiley or you're not smiley maybe, but friendly. But then in reality it's not nice. It's actually just formal. Yeah. It's just the outside face. And then when you understand, like you understand culture, you're like, oh, they're actually being jerky to you. But but if you don't know, like I have relatives who are Japanese American, they go to Japan, they think everyone's nice. I'm like, well, they're not. You don't actually know what they're really doing. Yeah. But without saying it. Yeah. Because in Japan you would never say that to somebody. But the way they treat you is an indication of, you know, how they feel about you. Is there any situation that you would give up your citizenship? Well, I. Uh, you're American citizen. Yeah. So I had to give up my citizenship because Japanese government don't give you dual citizenship if you choose to pick another nationality, if you are born with dual citizenship, like my son, he has Japanese citizenship and American citizenship. You have to choose though at some point, don't they? You. You have to choose the 18, I believe. No. Well, this is what I was told you should choose. But you don't really have to choose. I think you're supposed to choose. You are supposed to choose, but you don't. You could just. It's actually better to have one only. I know, but you could just let it stay and it's okay. The difference between you know what you're talking about. You gave up your citizenship willingly. Well, I wasn't I didn't give up willingly. It just disappears. But when you became a American citizen, you. That was willing, right? Well, I chose to stay here, but then Japanese citizenship evaporated. Kind of. And then a couple of years ago, during the Covid, you had to get a visa to go to Japan. Even I was really upset. I'm like, I'm from Japan, why do I have to get a visa? But I had to apply for a visa. And then they found out I forfeited my Japanese citizenship, and they took all hours and hours to erase my name from koseki, the family booklet, and they switched my name from kanji to katakana. I was really upset. I'm still upset about that. Wait, why would they switch it to katakana? Because you're a farmer. Because I'm not a Japanese anymore. I'm Japanese person anymore. I'm an American person. A foreign person to them. So my name has to be in katakana. Even if it's Japanese. Yes. I'm upset. I'm still upset. That's weird. I know. That's very weird. But it has nothing to do with your story. No, no, no, this is interesting. Um, for my grandfather. I mean, I couldn't imagine a scenario where I would give up my citizenship willingly. I mean, it's just there's so much to, uh, to that you would have to deal with, like. So a lot of people, if we go back to question 27 and 28, if you were a Issei or first generation, you couldn't become an American citizen. Because of the law, Because of the law. And then in 28, basically you're saying I'm giving up my Japanese citizenship. And so for a lot of the Issei, if you said yes, yes, you're essentially saying you're stateless because you're not Japanese anymore, because you gave it up. You're not American because you can't become American. So what are, you? No identity. Yeah. There's I mean, there's no country that can take you. So you're stuck. So I think that I mean, like, that's something that people don't talk about, about questions 27, 28, but that's something that's I think really important to know is that, you know, like like you you should answer no, no to that question if you're not an American citizen, because what the hell? Yeah Where are you going to go? But I think that yeah, like one of the things I think that if my family had gone back to Japan, they would have had a tough time in Japan. I mean, not just the food, but culturally it would have been very difficult. Like, the one positive thing is there was a chance that my dad would still meet my mother and I could be alive because my mom is from Japan, so they might have met in Japan, I don't know. But like my cousin who is, uh, who's my my aunt. My aunt was my my dad's sister. She would never have been born because she met her husband in Hawaii. And he's Filipino, not Japanese. So there's zero chance she would be alive and her children wouldn't be alive. But. But I might be alive. I might be sitting here in front of you. Okay. All right. To find out more about the Renunciants, we invite you to visit Ganim's ongoing exhibition, Common Ground heart of a community, where they have pictures and more information. There is so much to this story. We are not nearly done. We'll have to come back one more episode to finish it. This is a three part series. This is a lot. As we do every month. We need to do something fun or at least interesting. What would be worth giving up your citizenship for? Well, we already. Well, I already gave up my citizenship for American citizenship. For your husband. Right? Well, my. Yeah, my husband's American. And actually, I don't know, um, my husband has a job that requires, like, a background check, so he needs to have an American wife. Okay, so you gave up your citizenship for your husband? Yeah. To keep my housewife job. Was it worth it? Yeah. He's paying all my bills. I mean, do you miss anything about having a Japanese citizenship? Not really, because I live here, but I'm still upset that they changed my name from kanji to katakana. When I saw that I was crying because my name was in kanji, that was my identity. And it's taken away. That's kind of petty, I know. Just to change your name to. I don't understand why they. They took like many hours. Like there there were like four people involved for changing my name from kanji to katakana. I'm like, uh, don't you have better things to do? Yeah. I mean, there's not a lot of people in Japan anymore, so, Yeah why go through that much work? Well, I'm not paying the taxes in Japan, so I guess that's okay. In Japan, citizenship, though, is very much about blood and and heritage. And. And they are very I say they because I'm not them anymore. Um, they are very proud of their passport. Japanese passport. They claim that with Japanese passport, Japanese citizens are allowed to more countries than any other passports. I don't know if that's true, but that's what they say. Well, when I've traveled in the Middle East, I always tell people I'm Japanese. It's just safer. The only place I don't tell people I'm Japanese is Asia. When I'm in Asia, it's typically not great to be Japanese. So I say I'm American. Even in countries that I'm, you know, being Americans. Not great. It's probably better than being Japanese. But everywhere else when I go, like I was, I've been into like Israel. And they asked me, oh, what are you? I say, I'm Japanese in English. And then they're like, oh, great. And they want me to buy stuff. Nice, nice. Because America, you know, doesn't have a great history sometime in the Middle East. But that's always funny. But for me, you know, why would I give up for my citizenship for I don't know, I mean, I didn't have to give it up for love. So I mean, I think. You mean money. Money? Uh, hopefully your husband doesn't listen to this. Yeah. Um, I don't know. The only thing I could think of is if, you know, my country did something that I wasn't proud of and that I needed to make a statement. Maybe my grandfather. One of the reasons he made the decision, I think, was for his family. And I think that he decided that it was not safe if he didn't decide it first, and just in the camp itself. And then he decided that, like, they might be separated if he didn't. And then third, he decided that if he didn't ask for it, it would have been unsafe. When he gone back to Japan because he thought that. I don't think it was wrong that if he was forced to go to Japan anyway, the earlier he went, the better it would be for him. Yeah and if he said no, no to America, he's a no no and renouncing his citizenship and the earlier he got there the better it would be for him. You know, because ultimately I was kind of joking that he wouldn't do well in Japan. I mean, I think he would probably do well because he spoke Japanese. He had Japanese. I mean, he was friends with the consulate. He had friends there. So he probably would have done okay, better than a lot of the Japanese Americans who had no contact in Japan left. And he had family there, too. So he would have been probably okay. But, you know, he was willing to give up for his family. And I think that that's probably the only thing I would give it up for. Yeah. Like citizenship is like, you know, water, almost like water or air. You kind of think it's there. But like when somebody is taking that away, that's like, ah, Yeah. Well, that's why I hurt your feelings when they changed your kanji. Yeah. Kanji. And you have to like, wait in the line for foreigners to come in the country. I mean, that's a longer line. That's like it's a 30 minute longer line. I mean, it's significant, maybe even longer. But when I come back here, it's smooth. Because you're an American citizen. Now. But if you go the other way, it's still it's long, you know, for you even being in the United States, it's it's different being an American citizen than it is to be a foreign national. Right? I mean, just the different laws and different things and the way people treat you is different. You know. They still treat me like foreigners. So do you ever feel like you're lost, like between the two cultures? Yeah, I kind of like when I go back to Japan, people know that I don't live there, although I speak, I don't know, I think I, I look a little bit more Coca-Cola than. Coca-Cola. What does that mean? American than Japanese? That's interesting, because you don't look I mean, you don't look it. I know, but when I'm here, people assume I just got off. The boat. Yeah, got off the airplane. But when I go back to Japan, people think I don't live there. Yeah, I mean, that's it's funny because one of my earliest memories of being in Japan was I was on a beach in my swimwear, and these kids were making fun of me. Oh no. And it was like, well, because I was American, I was Nikkei, how do they even know? Because I didn't say anything. I wasn't talking to anybody. And I remember just being like, well, how do you know that? Like my mom or my cousin was telling me, it's the way I walk and the way I. Is that true? I mean, yeah, I know exactly when Japanese people. I mean, like, sometimes you see a lot of people walking, a lot of Asian people walking. I know who's Japanese because how they walk, How do they walk different? It's just you just know. I just know like, oh, my gosh, she must be Japanese like. I think I thought Americans Walk is a little bit more sauntering. Like a little bit more like confidence. I guess it is different. I guess I could probably tell. Yeah, yeah, you could tell. I mean, you just have to watch. I took an acting class when I was younger to learn how to write better, and one of the funny things in the acting class is that every student has to walk on the stage, and then they walk back and forth a couple times, and then everyone in the class, like, had to pretend to walk like them. But what happens is that they would exaggerate little things. Yeah. Until it would be like it'd be so funny. And then the person would get their feelings hurt because they would be exaggerating like a limp or like a saunter. But it was really funny to watch. And. And also, when you hear Japanese people talking on the street, it's usually people from Osaka because they talk loud, Okay. And people, Japanese people from Tokyo, they don't talk loud. So you can't really tell. When I was in Japan last, I was with Brazilians and we were on a train, and by the time we got to our final train station, no one was in the cart with us anymore. It's because we were speaking Portuguese, Spanish and English and some Japanese, and we were loud. And so by the time we got to, everybody had left and they were all glaring at us like we were, oh, we're the worst Japanese people. They're like, why are these Japanese people speaking? But Japanese people are quiet until they sneeze on the train. Like like, oh my god is that what it is? I've never I've never even noticed that. That's weird. Next time. You'll notice. Okay. Next time I'll notice. Thank you once again Derek Mio for that wonderful reading and thank you all for listening. There are almost 3 million podcasts. We are honored that you've chosen to listen to ours. This podcast is a program of the Japanese American National Museum. The museum's mission is to promote understanding and appreciation of America's ethnic and cultural diversity by sharing the Japanese American experience. Please rate, review and subscribe to our podcast. Be sure to join us next month when we continue talking about my grandpa and his fight to stay in America. Bye.