17 of November, 2016
Prior to reading Obasan by Joy Kogawa, I often associated World War II Japanese internment camps with the United States. Most likely this is because I grew up in the American school system, but it could also be due to the fact that Japanese internment camps was globally publicized in the United States. Growing up in Los Angeles, California, I knew that residents filtered into camps such as Manzanar. I’ve been to museums dedicated to preserving the memories of those imprisoned in camps. Because Los Angeles is a cultural hub of different ethnicities, the presence and pride of Japanese Americans is represented through Little Tokyo–the equivalent of a “Chinatown”, community centers, and history museums. Obasan opened my eyes to the realization that there has been atrocities committed against the Japanese people in the United States and Canada, and that the government refrains from speaking about a bleak time in their history.
The culture of Obasan revolves around the theology of filial piety’, a custom that exists in both Chinese and Japanese cultures. This idea of “respecting your elders” exists in Western culture as well, but it is not as heavily emphasized. Filial piety is a Confucian virtue that establishes respect for one’s parents, elders, and ancestors. Naomi Nakane has grown up with a pre-established respect and regard for the generational system, where each generation is defined by ‘issei’, ‘nissei’, and ‘sansei’. These terms identify identify what it means to be a Japanese Canadian; if one was born in Japan, they would be classified as an ‘issei’, second generations are ‘niseis’, third are ‘sanseis’, so on and so forth. Most respect achieved at the highest level ‘issei’, preserving Japanese roots. As Naomi is a Sansei, she struggles with her Japanese exterior appearance interfering with her identify as a Westernized Canadian. In Chapter 1, Naomi notes that strangers often assume that the is a foreigner whenever they first meet her. This is a struggle that I have gone through, and that numerous second or third generation Asian-Canadians/Americans go through: having an ethnic appearance, yet speaking perfect English and being bred in a complete Western environment. This is where I would raise the question—how many culture is enough culture? Where do you draw the line between being proud of your heritage, but simultaneously being proud of your identity?