I Am Japanese

Lin’s family had been at this internment camp for three months now. Since the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the American government didn’t feel it could trust the Japanese Americans and placed them in camps situated in the desert.

Lin and his family slept in barracks with lots of other people. Sleeping conditions were poor, and it was noisy. Dust storms raced through the camps, and swirling clouds of dust were everywhere.

One evening Dad asked Lin, “What’s wrong?” He could tell that something wasn’t quite right.

“I just don’t get why we’re here. I don’t understand why there’s a guard up there. I don’t get why we live in a prison.”

“It’s not a prison: it’s a camp,” interrupted Dad.
“What’s the difference? We couldn’t leave if we wanted to. That’s a prison, Dad,” replied Lin.

That’s when Lin’s father decided to make a baseball field. This would keep people’s minds off their troubles. Night and day they dug up the sagebrush and cleared a field.

Weeks later, Lin circled the baseball field for the second time that day. He was hoping to get three home runs for the evening. He glanced up at the guard on the tower. As usual, the guard kept his gun ready and poised.

Lin’s dad waved him in safely. “Way to go, Lin! That was an awesome home run!” yelled his dad.
“Thanks, Dad,” replied Lin. He hustled back to the bench. He was sure he had another one in him.