Father and Son
Charcoal on paper
18” x 24”
Charcoal on paper
18” x 24”
Mitsuki Tsuchida was born in San Francisco in 1936. He was five years old when his family was forcibly relocated to the incarceration camps under Executive Order 9066.
At first, Mitsuki and his family were held at Santa Anita racetrack, where they lived in converted horse stables. He remembers the stench, the horse showers, and toothpaste running through open latrines. In Topaz, everything was covered in dust and even going to the bathroom required courage.
His father, a Kibei (born in the U.S. but educated in Japan), was a vocal protestor against the incarceration and was arrested by the FBI. Separated from his family, he endured brutal interrogation and was forced to sign a letter admitting his guilt, without the help of translator and knowledge of what he was signing.
In Tule Lake, Mitsuki was pressured to abandon English and salute the emperor. He attended Japanese language school wearing a headband and shouting “Long live His Majesty the Emperor!” sometimes forced to kneel in the dirt.
Mitsuki vividly remembers the day his father returned from the Department of Justice camp in Crystal City and bought a bicycle.
“I was riding with him, sitting on the crossbar as we went down Grant Street in Berkeley. I looked up at him, touched his face, and leaned on him. Then he said, ‘What are you doing!’ That moment defined everything. After that, I knew I couldn’t show any form of affection to him.”
The war didn’t just impact individuals—it reshaped families, leaving lasting scars on love and relation.
At 89, Mitsuki lives quietly in a small town in the Central Valley, finding joy in time spent with his granddaughter.
At 89, Mitsuki lives quietly in a small town in the Central Valley, finding joy in time spent with his granddaughter.
