The Stanford Program on International and Cross-Cultural Education (SPICE) unequivocally condemns the systemic racism that permeates U.S. society and fully supports the recent calls for social justice and equity. I have been so moved and inspired by the protests across the United States that have brought world-wide attention to the systemic racism in the United States. Because of my age and the stay-at-home orders, I regret that I have not been able to participate in the protests. It is not due to my indifference. My family—in particular in late 1941 and 1942—also suffered from what would be called “racial profiling” today.

After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, my grandparents, who were immigrants from Japan, and my U.S.-born parents were forcibly removed by Executive Order 9066 from their homes in Salinas, California, in 1942 and detained initially in the Salinas Assembly Center, one of 15 temporary detention facilities along the West Coast for Japanese immigrants and Japanese Americans. They were later transported to Poston War Relocation Center, which was built on the Colorado River Indian Reservation in the Arizona desert, and was one of ten more permanent detention camps that the U.S. government had initially referred to as concentration camps. They remained there until the end of World War II.

My father, as a high school student in Poston, became fully aware of not only the painful sting of scorpions but more importantly of the sting of indifference from Americans concerning their plight; and my mother, as an elementary school student, simply assumed that they had done something wrong because her family was surrounded by barbed wire and guard towers manned by U.S. soldiers with guns. During World War II, very few people spoke out as the constitutional rights of 120,000 people of Japanese ancestry—more than two-thirds of whom were U.S. citizens—were violated.

As I listened to President Donald Trump’s June 13th remarks at the 2020 United States Military Academy at West Point graduation ceremony, I was hoping that he would—especially given the times—specifically mention Henry Ossian Flipper, a former slave, who in 1877 became the first African American to graduate from the United States Military Academy at West Point; as well as others like the African American Tuskegee Airmen who served valiantly in World War II. One of my uncles, who was drafted into the U.S. Army from Poston, trained with other Japanese American soldiers in the 442nd Regimental Combat Team in Camp Shelby, Mississippi. Around town, he saw the segregated entrances—“Whites Only” and “Colored Only”—and didn’t know which one to enter. He went to Europe to fight bigotry.

As a young student in the late 1950s and 1960s, I had never learned about these stories in my elementary and secondary school classes. I learned about them informally through my family and formally for the first time as a freshman in fall 1972 at U.C. Berkeley. Here I was taught that what I had learned in elementary and secondary school was the U.S. master narrative of history, in which the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, Henry Ossian Flipper, and Tuskegee Airmen were not included, at least at the time.

SPICE fully supports FSI Director Michael McFaul’s call “to reassess our work and how we can move our local community, nation, and the world to achieve racial justice” in light of the horrific killing of George Floyd and the long, tragic history of racial injustice and police violence targeted at the Black community. SPICE—with roots that date back to 1973—is an educational outreach program of FSI. The goal of making Stanford scholarship accessible to K–12 students (and more recently community college students) has remained as SPICE’s mission since its establishment. Now—perhaps more than ever—I feel the need to do more to help open up the still strictly confined master narrative of U.S. history to include the Black Lives Matter movement and more broadly the contributions of minorities to U.S. society.

Long before terms like culturally relevant (or sensitive) curriculum were being used, SPICE has underscored the importance of helping to raise international and cultural awareness—through curriculum development—geared to students at a young age, when critical attitudes are being formed. SPICE is about to launch a website that is called “What does it mean to be an American?” The website’s lessons focus on topics like immigration, civil liberties & equity, civic engagement, justice & reconciliation, and leadership. It is meant as a starting point for critical discussions, including courageous conversations about race and discrimination. We hope that this is a modest starting point for teachers to encourage youth around the country to discuss topics like the Black Lives Matter movement, being Muslim in America, and LGBTQ issues.

Among SPICE’s offerings are a series of short lectures (Scholars Corner and Multimedia Library) by Stanford scholars with accompanying teacher guides. One focuses on “The Use of Lethal Force by the Police in Rio de Janeiro and the Pacification Process” by Professor Beatriz Magaloni in which she explores the connections between poverty, crime, and police violence—topics just as relevant in the contemporary United States as they are in Brazil. For many years, I have hoped to expand these further with scholars affiliated with the Martin Luther King, Jr. Research and Education Institute, which is directed by Professor Clayborne Carson. Several years ago, SPICE recorded a lecture by Professor Carson titled “Civil and Human Rights: The Martin Luther King, Jr. Legacy,” and I recommend its use in schools as his message is very timely. In addition, SPICE has worked with educators of the Navajo Nation for many years; someday we hope to collaborate on a long-term project. One of the Navajo educators was a Stanford student in the 1960s and he shared his efforts to persuade Stanford to drop the Indian symbol as a mascot in 1972 despite resistance or indifference on the part of many in the Stanford community.

I agree with Professor Michael McFaul that “We must do better.” I definitely need to do better. SPICE needs to do more to highlight BIPOC’s invaluable contributions to U.S. history and society and help to empower youth with a greater voice and platform today to address the systemic racism in the United States that is directly affecting their lives.

My mother, now 87, still vividly recalls the barbed wire that surrounded her as a 9-year-old American girl at the “assembly center” in Salinas in 1942. Reflecting upon the recent protests, she recently shared with me, “I imagine that Blacks feel like they have a fence around them all the time.” She also still nervously remembers the paranoia that her mother felt during World War II, and even after the war when her mother used to sometimes go outside in the middle of the night with a packed suitcase. After being escorted home by neighbors, she would tell her children that “She was going to Poston.” I know how much these stories still hurt me despite the passage of time. I believe that they help me to empathize as best I can with the plight of Black families in the United States today. But empathizing is not enough. We must ask ourselves, what more can we do to help take down the racial fences that still exist?

In SPICE’s curriculum work, we always preface each lesson with organizing questions (essential or overarching questions) that we would like students to consider. I would like to pose three for us to consider during this time: What can we at Stanford University do to move our local community, the United States, and the world to achieve greater racial justice? What can SPICE do to further make FSI/Stanford scholarship accessible to K–12 schools and community colleges ? What are the risks of remaining indifferent especially during times of crisis? These questions will be the driving force of our work in the weeks, months, and years ahead.

“Let’s bring all the planes down”—Secretary of Transportation Norman Mineta’s words to ground all U.S. planes on 9/11—elicited a moment of riveted silence in the audience of educators attending the National Council for the Social Studies (NCSS) annual conference in Austin, Texas, as they listened to Secretary Mineta’s keynote address on November 23, 2019. Upon hearing those words, many were transported back to a time when most people probably remember exactly where and what they were doing at the time that they heard of the events unfolding on September 11, 2001. However, most of their current students were not alive in 2001 and Mineta underscored the importance of teaching them about the lessons of 9/11 so that it is never forgotten.

During his address, Secretary Mineta highlighted the importance of conference themes such as informed action and decision making as he reflected upon lessons from his life, and the important role that teachers have in shaping critical attitudes of their students. In a touching moment, he shared his experience as a 10-year-old boy in 1942 who was forced from his home in San Jose, California, and incarcerated with his family in Heart Mountain, Wyoming, the location of one of the 10 major incarceration camps for people of Japanese descent during World War II. He vividly recalled his cherished baseball bat being confiscated by the Military Police as it was deemed a weapon. Mineta also shared how his experience during World War II informed one of President George W. Bush’s comments immediately following 9/11, that is, “We know what happened to Norm Mineta in the 1940s, and we’re not going to let that happen again.” A son of immigrants from Japan, Norman Mineta became the first Asian American mayor of a major city (San Jose, California). This led to a distinguished 20-year career in Congress and the first Asian American Cabinet member, having served two U.S. Presidents, a Democrat (Bill Clinton) and Republican (George W. Bush).

As Secretary Mineta spoke, one could sense that he never forgot his roots or the shame and humiliation that he and his family felt during World War II; as a congressman, he led the way for an apology from the U.S. government and redress for Japanese Americans who were interned. As U.S. Secretary of Transportation during and after 9/11, he made critical decisions that would ensure that what happened to Japanese Americans during World War II did not happen to any other group based on ethnicity or religion. His burning desire for all people to be treated equally is at the heart of a film, Norman Mineta and His Legacy: An American Story, that was co-produced by Dianne Fukami and Debra Nakatomi, who were also in the audience. The film premiered on PBS earlier this year.

Following Secretary Mineta’s keynote to an audience of hundreds who gave him a standing ovation, SPICE’s Rylan Sekiguchi and Jonas Edman led a more intimate discussion with Secretary Mineta and 70 educators that also included an overview of a SPICE-produced web-based curriculum unit that is titled, “What Does It Mean to Be American?” As its main author, Sekiguchi explained that the curriculum unit consists of six lessons with readings, videos, and assignments to examine key themes from Secretary Mineta’s life and career: immigration, civil liberties & equity, civic engagement, justice & reconciliation, leadership, and U.S.–Japan relations.

Sekiguchi also noted that the curriculum meets national standards for history, social studies, civics and government courses, and topics are brought to life and connected to students’ own lives through primary source documents, interactive classroom activities, and custom-created video vignettes (produced by Fukami) showcasing a diverse range of American voices—from high school youth to former U.S. Presidents George W. Bush and Bill Clinton. Each lesson provides a different lens through which students can examine the curriculum’s central question: What does it mean to be an American? The curriculum unit will be released in spring 2020.

Sekiguchi’s overview was followed by a discussion between Mineta and the 70 educators that was moderated by Edman. Questions from the audience ranged from Mineta’s legendary lifelong friendship with Republican Senator Alan Simpson of Wyoming to issues concerning immigrant families today. Many of the questions and Secretary Mineta’s responses touched upon the political divisiveness in U.S. society today and prompted educators to think of ways to use “What Does It Mean to Be An American?” and Norman Mineta and His Legacy: An American Story in their classrooms. Compliments from the audience like “this was the best session of the conference” and “this was the best workshop I’ve been to” could be heard following the session.

During their work with Secretary Mineta, Sekiguchi, Fukami, and Nakatomi were especially touched when they heard why Secretary Norman Mineta wears an American flag on his lapel. Mineta has noted, “When you’re in close quarters… people will sort of give you the once over. And so, I always wear this [flag pin]. It’s something you feel when you’re doing things. Am I really being fully accepted as an American citizen? I want to make sure everyone knows I am one.”

Question & Answer session with Secretary Norman Mineta with Jonas Edman moderating

Related articles:

• Secretary Norman Mineta and SPICE’s Rylan Sekiguchi Speak at the Ronald Reagan Library
• Secretary Norman Mineta and SPICE’s Rylan Sekiguchi Highlight National Council of History Education Conference in Washington, DC
• Presidents Bill Clinton and George W. Bush Interviewed for the Mineta Legacy Project