What price do we pay for political visibility in United States history both in the past and in the present? These readings for me were about discussing the decisions and implications behind what is made visible and invisible. I took a class with Professor Creef last semester on Race and Gender in Westerns and something that we discussed a bit was how invisible the stories of Japanese American internment are within popular national imaginary. Even more invisible are the stories of resistance within the camps. Why? I wrote one of my papers in this class on how the ways that photography physically mapped narratives of Americanization, loyalty, and white assimilation onto the Japanese-American body was a politically strategic choice of people like Ansel Adams during this time given the popular narrative of Japanese-Americans as perpetual foreigners. While choices in political representation are not necessarily “good” or “bad” it is accurate to say that this representation was definitely a politically strategic one. However, I wonder at what costs were these decisions made particularly given how invisible this period of time remains in U.S. history. So I ask again, does Americanization make you more or less politically visible…or does it make you both?
The photographic history of this time is incredibly controlled and limited. While this makes sense given “our national propensity to render invisible that which is historically too painful to look at and to silence that which still invokes our national shame”, there are instances in U.S. American history that have been manipulated to make historical record and photography serve the hegemonic national narrative [1]. I am thinking of how pictures of Martin Lurther King Jr. are rarely accompanied by his quotes about white supremacy, the American war on the poor, and his protests of Vietnam, but rather quotes about dreams for integration. Why haven’t the images of smiling Japanese-American internment camp members been solidified into our popular imagery? Were these not manipulations of the situation at the time? We’ve had numerous atrocities in U.S. history, so why is this one in particular one that the U.S. has trouble manipulating to serve the national narrative? If history books can manipulate slavery as a necessary atrocity for U.S. economic gain than why does the U.S. have so much trouble manipulating Japanese Internment into a palatable narrative?
Is it perhaps the nature of the photography that surrounds Japanese Internment? We were discussing at the ICA yesterday how photographs have much anxiety that surrounds them because they are thought of to better represent reality than a reconstruction in another medium such as painting. Thus, the fact that there is no photographic “image icon” for Japanese Internment is striking. Is it because of the ways that model minority and perpetual foreigner stereotypes still are mapped onto the bodies of third and fourth generation Japanese Americans in the U.S? Do these current anxieties still influence are visible memory?
[1] Elena Tajima Creef, “The Representation of the Japanese American Body in the Photographs of Ansel Adams, Dorothea Lange, and Toyo Miyatake,” 17