We began our day with a class discussion regarding the politics surrounding immigration in both the US and Japan, and what the opening of Japan's borders to migrants would entail. We delved into the ways in which strong stigmas and social norms dictating what it means to be "Japanese" prevent mixed-race people and migrants from fully integrating into Japanese society, and how policy changes could ease this ongoing struggle in the future. We also took time to step back and evaluate our own perspectives on immigration, which have formed mostly around the horrors occurring at America's own borders as we speak.
After class we headed out to the Japanese Overseas Migration Museum in Yokohama, where we were able to take a tour of the various exhibits after a quick lunch in the cafeteria. The museum is dedicated to the migration of Japanese people throughout history, with the most focus placed on emigration from Japan during the 20th century. The museum is divided into two sections: history and life/people. I thought this distinction was interesting, and reflected the museum's desire to convey what the lived experience of Japanese migrants was like.
The museum has a great wealth of fascinating artifacts and replicas, from the first passport ever issued by the Japanese government to a complete recreation of a Japanese-run general store in America. Throughout the tour, a common theme I noticed was the amount of pride that is taken in the hard work of Japanese migrants, even to the point of romanticization in some cases. The absolutely horrid conditions that were endured by those who left Japan to work on plantations and in factories were often downplayed in the exhibits. Whether this is due to social expectations of perseverance in Japan or willful erasure in order to avoid political controversy I cannot say, but walking through the museum I was filled with immense sadness as I imagined the hardships these people must have faced.
There was one section of the museum in particular that hit very close to home for me. It briefly touched on the experiences of Japanese plantation workers in Hawaii who moved there for work after it was colonized by the US. My mother is half Hawaiian, and I am very close to that side of my family. Many stories about America's seizure of Hawaii and the aftermath have been passed down to me, and as I looked at the replicas of sugarcane and listened to the holehole bushi (Japanese plantation worker's song), I couldn't help but think of my family members who were forced into the same situation. I left the museum feeling very sad, but also grateful to have found this piece of myself in a place so far from home.
After the museum, a smaller group of us decided to go to the Cup Noodles Museum, and we had a great time learning about the creation and history of instant noodles, taking pictures, and making our own custom Cup Noodles. Afterwards we decided to head to nearby Yokohama Chinatown for dinner. We ended up finding an amazing dim sum spot, where we filled up on rice, duck, and chicken dishes. Before leaving to return home to NYC, we picked up boba at a nearby cafe (my first time having it in Japan!).
Although the earlier hours of the day were saddening, in the end I was glad to have that time to reflect and feel connected to the Japanese migrants. They suffered great challenges and grueling work for their families, just as my grandparents and great-grandparents suffered for my mother and I. As much as I found a piece of myself in Japan that day, I also believe I left a bit of myself in that museum as well. This will not be a day I soon forget, and I am honored to be able to carry the voices of these people within me from now on.
- Carlie
Click here for a video recap of the day!
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