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Part 3
"I Am an American!" In days to come, sociologists and planners would point to Queen Emma Street with horror and describe it as a poverty pocket and a pesthole. Eventually it became the site of Honolulu's first slum-clearance project. The ramshackle lines of two-family houses were knocked down by bulldozers, the remains carted away, and the area today is a lovely park. But I was too young to realize how underprivileged I was, and foolishly I enjoyed every moment of my childhood. There was always enough to eat in our house-although sometimes barely-hut even more important, there was a conviction that opportunity awaited those who had the heart and strength to pursue it. Our family life was a blend of East and West. When we ate beef, we used knives and forks. When we ate sukiyaki, we used chopsticks. Although I went to a Japanese school every afternoon, it was never permitted to interfere with my American education. The language spoken at home now on Coyne Street, was English. I remember a great celebration. After nearly 30 years of persistent effort, Asakichi had paid the family debt. There were songs and much sake and, though I was not yet five years old, I sat on my grandfather's lap and took a sip of the potent liquor. Had he chosen to do so, he could now have resumed to Yokoyama village. But there was never a doubt about what he would do. His son and daughters were Americans-he would stay the rest of his days in Hawaii. Most of the Japanese in Hawaii felt the same. But the break was difficult, even for us who had never seen the old country. The Buddhist priest who taught us ethics and history in the Japanese school actually believed we were still Japanese and often in class he told us that our loyalty belonged to the Emperor. When I was 15, 1 openly challenged him, declaring in class, "I am an American." "You are a Japanese," he retorted, angered by my insubordination. "I am an American," I insisted. So enraged was he that he dragged me from the classroom and threw me with full force into the schoolyard, screaming after me, "You are a faithless dog!" I never returned. But I still revered the land of my ancestors and, although I sensed that the breach between Japan and the United States was widening, serious trouble between them was too terrifying even to think about.
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