Vogueのインスタグラム(voguemagazine) - 3月13日 02時36分

For survivors of Japanese-American incarceration and their descendants, history is repeating itself with horrific accuracy. There is an echo of Roosevelt’s executive order in Trump’s national emergency declaration, both of which seem almost banal on paper; all 9066 did was to exclude certain people from certain places, then empower certain others to “relocate” them, just as Trump’s national emergency “diverts funds.” Clinical language belies an American predilection for state violence.
So the act of counter-documentation becomes resistance. “Telling our stories will keep us alive,” writes Tani Ikeda, a documentarian who filmed at the deadly Unite the Right rally at Charlottesville, Virginia; at the Women’s March on Washington; and at Los Angeles International Airport when Trump’s travel ban went into effect. “They will open the heart of this country by breaking it.” Above: Lila Fumiye Sasaki, 88, kneels at the memorial grave site of Okei Ito. The tombstone reads, “In Memory of Okei, Died 1871. Aged 19 years. A Japanese Girl,” in English and in Japanese.
Sasaki grew up in rural Auburn on a fruit orchard. “From 1942 to 1945, I was shut away in ‘internment’ ‘relocation’ camps. From home to Tule Lake, California, to Jerome, Arkansas, to Amache, Colorado. These were turbulent times, unconstitutional, humiliating for all,” she told Vogue in a handwritten letter. Sasaki went on to become a registered nurse with a degree in nursing from Stanford. Her letter ends, “Today, I am a mother with four grown children, a physician, graphic designer, structural engineer, and a salesman. Also the proud grandmother of five grandchildren. And they are all GRAND!”
Tap the link in our bio to read more about these #AmericanWomen. Photographed by @katsunaito, written by @bridgetgillard

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