On February 19, 1942, President Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, which led to the incarceration of 120,000 Japanese-Americans. Often given less than 24 hours to leave their homes and farms with “only what they could carry,” families who lived in the newly defined “military zone” on the West coast were rounded up, forced to forfeit their property, and moved to camps with barbed wire and machine gun-armed guard towers overseen by the United States Army.
Plans were drawn up using guidelines for prisoners of war. The camps were spread across the most barren and hostile deserts and swamps of the country, with temperatures ranging from 30 degrees below zero to 120 degrees above.
“They were told they were going to these ‘pioneer communities’ because they were in danger from other Americans,” says Richard Reeves, journalist, historian, and author of the acclaimed book, Infamy, which offers a detailed historical account of the shocking brutality endured by Japanese-Americans during World War II. “But they did notice when they got to the camps that the machine guns were pointed in—not out—and the search lights were following them.”
This dark chapter in American history was later deemed unconstitutional—but the fear, propaganda, and racism that allowed it to happen in the first place may have come back to haunt us in 2017.
[quote position="right" is_quote="true"]We are a people of the present and future. We don’t look back very much.[/quote]
“We are a people of the present and future. We don’t look back very much,” says Reeves. “It’s one of our strengths—and one of our weaknesses.” Knowing our history with outsiders and those we’ve considered “dangerous” in the past, he became interested in studying the internment when he witnessed the hysteria that followed the attacks on September 11, 2001.
“If a few incidents of terrorism happen again, we could start to round up Muslims in great numbers as we did with the Japanese with no charges except for their religion, just as the Japanese had no charges except for the color of their skin—and they looked like the enemy,” said Reeves prophetically in April 2015.
Indeed, it was the San Bernardino terrorist attack in December 2015—in which 14 people were killed and 22 others were injured—that first prompted then-Presidential hopeful Donald Trump to propose what has become known as the Muslim ban.
Perhaps most frighteningly, Reeves says it was the some of the “best and the brightest and most revered of Americans” who knew about and approved the Japanese-American internment during World War II. Largely driven by wartime propaganda, the American public went along with the story they were being told by the nation’s highest office.
In that era of “fake news,” the media very much helped propel the racist narrative forward; there actually were plenty of salacious, editorialized, and factually inaccurate headlines in the nation’s top papers assisting the effort, according to Reeves.
Only a few reporters and editors throughout the country were willing to take a stand against the mass incarceration. One such newspaper was the Santa Ana Register (now the Orange County Register), whose publisher R.C. Hoiles wrote that “we should make every effort to correct the error as rapidly as possible” in October 1942.
“They knew it was unconstitutional and wrong, but it was popular,” says Reeves.
Actor and activist George Takei is perhaps the most famous victim of the widely praised law. He was only four years old when the knock came at his door.
“I can still remember that day when armed soldiers came to our home—soldiers with bayonets—they came to our home to order us out,” he told the Television Academy in an interview in 2011.
Takei and his family, like thousands of others, were sent to live temporarily at the Santa Anita race track in horse stables, which were fraught with disease. They were then sent to Arkansas, then to the Tule Lake camp in Northern California—one of the highest security camps—with three levels of barbed wire.
Committed to “never letting this happen again,” Takei has worked to educate politicians with a history lesson about what the internment was really like for Japanese-American families—two-thirds of whom were American citizens. His popular Broadway show Allegiance has given voice to the parents of the thousands of children like him who suffered in silence for decades. (On Febuary 19, Allegiance will be screened in select theaters across the country.)
Over the past few months, Takei has offered staunch warnings to President Trump on social media about avoiding the same path with Muslim Americans, though at the opening of a special exhibition at the Japanese American National Museum in Los Angeles last week, he expressed hope to Southern California’s KPCC. Takei celebrated the reaction of thousands of Americans to President Trump’s Muslim ban.
"Immediately, massive crowds of Americans rushed to their airports, resisted, opposed the executive order. It is a different America today,” he said—more tolerant and more willing to speak up against atrocities.
Say hello to my little friend...literally.
TikTok shocked by 15-year-old unhinged viral clip of kids performing Scarface in school play
Think about the most outrageous film that could be adapted to the stage. Now, imagine the cast of that theatrical production is entirely children, ranging in age from 7 to 10. Now, film it and let the world react.
That’s what director Marc Klasfeld had in mind when he held auditions with professional child actors for a shocking video, meant to look like an elementary school production of the cult film-favorite Scarface. In a now 15-year-old interview with Entertainment Weekly, when asked why he thought this was a good idea, Klasfeld admits, "I thought this would be a nice fit into the kind of YouTube arena of viral videos. And I was right."
The result? Kids yelling “mother-fudger,” piles of popcorn meant to look like cocaine, and outrageous, lengthy scenes of children pointing Super Soakers at one another.
Marc, mostly known as an accomplished commercial and music video director, later adds, "I enjoy making provocative art. I like stirring debate and causing conversation. You're going to get two sides of the coin no matter what you do. People are going to love and hate everything. People loved and hated Avatar. People loved and hated the Jennifer Aniston movie. And people love and hate this. I guess that's a part of having something that's successful out there. There’s got to be certain people that hate it for people to love it."
Once they got their perfect cast, it didn’t take long to put together. He shares, "It was a one-take, so it was pretty much just choosing the right take. About a month altogether."
People sure did react, as it acquired millions of views and comments from all over the Internet. Some were horrified, some were outraged, and many thought it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen. But Marc emphasizes that the kids in the video were not scandalized. "They’ve heard the f-word. They’ve seen more violence in their everyday lives for as long as they can remember. So for this, they’ve seen worse things than this all the time. So this wasn’t that big of a deal for them."
Enter TikTok. The clip (which just popped up again recently on Facebook) was reposted a few years back, and, once again, the comments continue to run the gamut from indignation to full praise. One TikTok user exclaimed, "Bro, I can’t even remember my grocery list, how the fudge did these kids memorize this whole scene lol?"
Others expressed confusion: "I'm not sure whether to be angry or amazed." Some chose anger: "Just imagine, you know these kids watched the movie to get the characters right. And the parents cheering? Yeah, yeah."
Many commenters believed it was a real school play and commended the production for "keepin' it real": "That school keeps it real. Nowadays, kids know so much about guns and drugs, might as well teach them that bad choices don’t end well."
Yet another enjoyed it but was concerned that the parents of the children would not. "Love the tray full of popcorn. But my God, I would hate to see the hell these parents probably raised."
For the most part, the reviews were glowing. Many complimented the acting, and one claimed they definitely would have "preferred this play over their own school production of Macbeth."
And perhaps the biggest compliment? "Al Pacino will be proud."