Alix W. with “Japanese Hunting License Certificate,” circa 1942
Imran S. with terrorist Halloween masks, circa 2010s
Teresa M. with ”Arizona War Worker Jap Skull” Picture of the Week, Life Magazine, May 22, 1944
Aneel S. with “Terrorist Body Bag” A. Ross Novelty Sack, 2002
Karnail S. with Islamophobic book Holy Terror, 2011
Ali K., Chloe K., and Rieko W. with Ken Magazine Issues 1 and 4, 1938
Zehra W. with Islamophobic book Stop the Islamization of America, 2017
Rumi S. with “Remember Pearl Harbor” button, circa 1942
Teresa M. and Hiro N. with “Factory Fires Help the Japs” Philadelphia Quartermaster Depot poster, circa 1944
Hiro N. with “Krak-A-Jap” mail-in order form, circa 1942
Aisha K., Rumi S., and Atif S. with “Coast Japs Are Interned at Mountain Camp,” Life Magazine, April 6, 1942
Rea T. with “Made in Japan” ink blotter, circa 1942
Ed N. with “Buy American” hat, circa 1980s
Neha G. with The Sheikh movie poster, 1921
Rieko W. with “Buy American” anti-Japan bumper sticker, 2018
Fariha K. with Islamophobic Book In Allah They Trust, 2012
Ahmet T. with “Islam is the Bomb!” bumper sticker, circa 2018
Soad M. with “Jihad Chic!” t-shirt, circa 2015
Darian E. with “Head Shot!” morale military patch, circa 2018
Makoto H. with Tokio Kid on Douglas Airview Magazine, 1942–1945
Alix W. with “Japanese Hunting License Certificate,” circa 1942“With my mixed heritage, I'm not going anywhere. I'm very clear that the U.S. [oppressed and dehumanized] and can do this to groups of people. As an activist, I'm still terrified more than my peers. I hate demonstrations. I hate rallies and big groups of people and having to be loud and raise signs. I have to lean on other people to do that, and yet I also can't imagine not doing it. From my background, it feels like vigilance is a necessity. Continuing to fight until things really change. Taking a stand is going to continue being necessary.”– Alix W., Biracial Japanese American, fourth generation, granddaughter of internees
Imran S. with terrorist Halloween masks, circa 2010s “So many people I love are Muslim and I'm in solidarity with that. Someday I would love to be able to talk about why I'm not Muslim [anymore], but in the United States, it’s always felt like ever since I made that decision, I couldn't really say that out loud. I always need to cloud [the reasons] in a lot of language showing that I do love Muslims and my family, etc. It's always felt a part of who I am, and I feel like I have to hide a part of who I am.”—Imran S., Bangladeshi American, second generation, Muslim upbringing
Teresa M. with ”Arizona War Worker Jap Skull” Picture of the Week, Life Magazine, May 22, 1944“Any time you look different or have a difference from the ‘mainstream of American,’ it's going to be targeted. [Growing up], I always felt inferior—inferior [Japanese] products, inferior [Japanese] people. There were a lot of prejudices, but it gives you an idea of why Japanese Americans were incarcerated. People believed Japanese and Japanese Americans were inferior—they were rats, they were infiltrating, they were portrayed as lowlife. These stereotypes are still with us. It takes activism to keep people aware of the prejudice present in our lives.”—Teresa M., Japanese American, third generation, born in labor camp
Aneel S. with “Terrorist Body Bag” A. Ross Novelty Sack, 2002“Racism is not something you're born with. It's something you learn, just by watching your parents, from watching TV, from your friends, your family, your network. That's why kids are so pure. Kids at a young age don't even see [skin] color. It's not until later they realize there is a distinction and you're 'supposed to' treat different people a different way—because that's how everyone else is doing it.”—Aneel S., Pakistani American immigrant, first generation, secular Muslim
Karnail S. with Islamophobic book Holy Terror, 2011“Most of the times when people see me, they just consider me as a Muslim. They try to attack because of that. But why even attack a Muslim? They don’t have anything to do with [you]. You can try to work on those things, you can show people images, you can tell them the differences, but always my concern is: Why [do] we have to explain [in the first place]? If I am doing my life peacefully, if I am working, I am trying to help, I am raising my children, I am helping my community. Then why [do] I have to explain myself? I was working in South Philadelphia most of the times because a lot of people, a lot of cab drivers don’t go there, but I choose to help. But I was still insulted or attacked—something, always, everyday. I am as American as everyone else is. Stand for your rights. You have the right to be a Muslim. You have the right to be a Sikh. You have the right to practice your religion in this country. You have that right. Stand for them.”—Karnail S., Indian American immigrant, first generation, Sikh
Ali K., Chloe K., and Rieko W. with Ken Magazine Issues 1 and 4, 1938“I’m worried about [my biracial Iranian-Japanese daughter]. It’s disheartening to see how willing the media is to dehumanize our perceived opponents of the moment and how these same practices go on today. What’s especially concerning is how the actual news media, which we’d want to be more responsible, show such caricatures. The covers of the Ken Magazines are extremely dehumanizing, and we’re not supposed to feel anything about that. Media can be used as propaganda in a very subtle way. It isn’t like Soviet propaganda that’s in your face. This is a lot more insidious and can affect us without us knowing it.”—Ali K., Iranian American, second generation
Zehra W. with Islamophobic book Stop the Islamization of America, 2017“People like us have to fight two battles: one with Islamophobes and the other with religious extremists. We have to take the narrative back from them. I want to reach out to people and tell my story, my narrative religiously, culturally, individually. I want people to see a South Asian Muslim woman in this exhibition. I hope people learn the stories of my life, and that will help them understand that just ‘Muslim’ as an abstract doesn’t mean anything.”—Zehra W., Pakistani American immigrant, first generation, practicing Muslim
Rumi S. with “Remember Pearl Harbor” button, circa 1942“If you're raising a boy in this country, and he identifies as a Muslim and as a brown kid, is that sad? No, it's not. We're giving him understanding and tools to use in the future. If you're asking me if I'm too hopeful, I'm not. We need to talk [the future] through culture. What we really need is to build a strong community. For me, that's my survival kit. That's where our future is.”—Aisha K. on her son Rumi S., Pakistani American, second generation, secular Muslim
Teresa M. and Hiro N. with “Factory Fires Help the Japs” Philadelphia Quartermaster Depot poster, circa 1944“The horrendous nature of some of this [propaganda] attracts attention. In today’s context, they may seem ludicrous, [and one might think], ‘Okay, it was a whole different time—it’s not that way anymore.’ It puts people in an assumption comfort zone that can hinder progress into seeing what’s still happening. Lots of things are just taken for granted that people think, ‘I don’t have to think about it.’ And so, it evolves into an environmental neglect and denial, but I’m hoping that [the propaganda] will provoke people [into thinking]: ‘Okay, today we’re not as bad, but maybe I should pay more attention to the issues of today that are built on similar kinds of perceptions, hatred, racism, etc.’ [against] different targeted groups.”—Hiro N., Japanese American, third generation, incarceration camp survivor
Hiro N. with “Krak-A-Jap” mail-in order form, circa 1942“Those who don’t remember history are doomed to repeat it, and I had that reaction after 9/11. To his credit, President George W. Bush visited a mosque and came out the next day and said, ‘Hey, don’t do anything stupid. We are a country of laws, and we need to treat people fairly.’ And yet, what happened? After 9/11, all of these people were slammed into Guantanamo [without due process]. For the Japanese American Citizens League, when we see these things, we think, ‘Didn’t we learn something 60 or 70 years ago?’ The non-judicial detention is highly reminiscent of what Japanese Americans went through when we were thrown into prison camps—no procedures, no challenges, nothing. People were handled as procedures and not court proceedings.”—Hiro N., Japanese American, third generation, incarceration camp survivor
Aisha K., Rumi S., and Atif S. with “Coast Japs Are Interned at Mountain Camp,” Life Magazine, April 6, 1942“Being an immigrant is empowering to us. We’ve seen more. We’ve experienced more. We have a sense of community. We're connecting and communicating. That's the hope from us. What do we want the future to be? A lot of futurism is about survival—but it doesn't have to be about that. It can be a future that you can take control of. Living with a nihilistic point of view is not liveable. Even if there is no hope, you create it. You create hope. Create it through your work—through art, through community.”—Aisha K. and Atif S., Pakistani American immigrants, first generation, secular Muslims
Rea T. with “Made in Japan” ink blotter, circa 1942“My father was drafted before Pearl Harbor, so he was actually serving in the army. After Pearl Harbor, everything changed. Later that night, he had guard duty for the base. A truck came by, and he had to stop it. He looked inside, and he saw that there was a Japanese farmer and his daughter. And he said, ‘I realized at that point, I was looking into the face of the enemy—and that the enemy was me.’” —Rea T., Japanese American, third generation, daughter of internees
Ed N. with “Buy American” hat, circa 1980s“My parents met in [incarceration] camp and they got married in 1942, and I was born in September 1943 in camp. I describe myself as an authentic product of American racism…one of the ironies of my life.”—Ed N., Japanese American, third generation, born in incarceration camp
Neha G. with The Sheikh movie poster, 1921“My parents have heavily faced a lot of issues because they were first generation, but they see racism as the price to be in the U.S. for better opportunities. I threw away my culture so much and detached myself from my brownness to be protected. As a five year old, I was angry. I was that angry as a five year old. And that’s been constantly happening my entire life. [But] I’ve found that more Muslim folks have been more accepting and have taught me a lot. You always see Muslim siblings always standing up for other communities all the time. All the time. Any time anything happens at a church, whatever it might be, they’re always the first ones to be coming and helping and protecting everyone else, even though they’ve had so much bigotry against them. I would like to see us taking a stand for our Muslim siblings, not detach ourselves, and embrace our Muslim siblings into our lives.”—Neha G., South Asian American, second generation, Hindu
Rieko W. with “Buy American” anti-Japan bumper sticker, 2018“[Growing up in Japan], we had no idea about this [anti-Japanese World War II] propaganda. We had no idea what America thinks of us. Japanese education tends to make students believe that Americans aren’t bad people, so we learn[ed] more neutral things, like no hate, no punish things. [Sharing this propaganda in Japan] is taboo, and I think many Japanese people don’t want that. The propaganda is very scary. It’s very aggressive, [and has] so strong power, so strong impression it gives people. I wonder if it makes people still feel hate towards Japanese people now.”—Rieko W., Japanese American immigrant, first generation
Fariha K. with Islamophobic Book In Allah They Trust, 2012“I asked my older son to talk to my younger son [because he was being called ‘terrorist’ at school in fourth grade], and my older son said, ‘What's the big deal? I get called ‘terrorist’ all the time.’ I didn't know what was worse—that he got called ‘terrorist,’ or that he had accepted that as his lot in life—that he'd be ridiculed for his faith, his biracial identity, his culture, or his heritage in any way.”—Fariha K., Pakistani-Afghani American, 1.5 generation, practicing Muslim
Ahmet T. with “Islam is the Bomb!” bumper sticker, circa 2018“When I did my field work with Muslim Americans—Afghan Americans, these kids who came of age around 9/11 and were in school around then, would report to me that they didn't want anything to do with Islam or Afghan-anything, or anything with what their parents were because they were so ‘Othered’—because they felt so excluded.”—Ahmet T., Turkish American immigrant, first generation, practicing Muslim
Soad M. with “Jihad Chic!” t-shirt, circa 2015“Yemen was one of the countries in the Muslim ban. It reinforced this narrative of: ‘Everyone from this country is a potential threat, and everyone from this country has this instinct to attack America and everything you hold dear.’ They used this metaphor that if you had a bowl of Skittles, one of them is poisonous. Do you understand the active dehumanization that takes place? That's me. That's the blood I carry—that's my cousin, that's my grandparents. When you're saying that, are you making that connection? You're talking about me.”—Soad M., Yemeni American, second generation, practicing Muslim
Darian E. with “Head Shot!” morale military patch, circa 2018“Growing up during a time when Iran was labelled an ‘Axis of Evil’ by Bush and obviously post 9/11, I was always hesitant to even say where I'm from or my family is from—and not want to be seen as an enemy.”—Darian E., Iranian American, second generation
Makoto H. with Tokio Kid on Douglas Airview Magazine, 1942–1945“Having to wade through feeling like ‘Other’ all the time from an early age completely shaped my entire existence—my entire life. It's inextricable from my life experiences as an adult.”—Makoto H., Japanese American, 1.5 generation
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