American Internment Camps, Essay Example

March 6, 1942. I am an American. I grew up here. I went to American school. I have indeed just applied for a place in college. Still, I am reading that the Executive Order 9066 has been signed off by the President. I was told that the government thinks I might spy for Japan. I have never been there. Hardly even speak the language. I might end up in a camp – for how long, I don’t know – and say goodbye to my future.

April 2, 1942. I am packing my things with my parents and little sister. I was told that I wasn’t allowed to take many things, and there is not much space in the camp. But we have to move. My father told me today that he doesn’t believe the house will be in one piece by the time we come back. We could leave the valuables with some relatives, but they are leaving for the camp, too. And Americans do not trust us any more. They look at us differently. They call us Yellow skinned enemy. I am only 17 but I understand that war is creating more damage than anything else in the world.

April 21, 1942. We arrived at the barracks. We are located in Heart Mountain, Wyoming. It is cold, there is no heating. Hundreds of people are arriving every week, they say. There is a communal laundry room and shower room, but the rest of the communal areas are being turned into temporary accommodation for people still arriving. It is   already crowded here. I met a girl from Michigan, she says that there would be some school set up soon. I am not sure what level, maybe only elementary. Anyway, we will be farming, my father told me. He is very depressed. He worries about the business. He has lost almost all his white customers before we left, and he thinks he can never start again. He looks too old to do so, anyway.

Nov. 3, 1942. We have been in the camp for months only, but it seems like years. We have worked the fields to get something fresh to eat. Food is just about enough, but lately they employed some Japanese cooks, so it is getting better. I miss fish, but there are potatoes and vegetables. I have joined a youth club here, we share stories and try to learn. There are not many books around, but we read what we find. Nobody seems to know when this ends, if it does. I have not met anyone from our place, so don’t know what has happened to our house and my father’s business. He is sick. My little sister is going to school, and she seems to enjoy it. She keeps herself busy. Being only ten, it might look less serious for her. I miss my friends, but I think that they wouldn’t even speak to me now. I will carry this mark all my life.

Dec. 3, 1942.  My father’s dying. They say that the stress and worry is slowly killing him. I don’t know if it is true. He has had a heart condition for a long time. But this situation is making it worse. He is not only worrying about him and my mother, but us, children, as well. When I grow up I want to work so this will never happen. If I get out of here ever, I will try and make a difference.