This past week, I opened one of my family history binders and found a copy of my great-grandfather’s alien registration card. On one side of the card, a black and white picture of him smiling is taped next to his fingerprint. Handwritten above both is his alien number. The other side of the card lists his pertinent information: birth date and place, height, weight, hair color, and number of years lived in the United States. The next pages in my binder hold copies of alien traveling permits signed by a United States Attorney. One of these permits was issued in 1945 and allowed my great-grandfather to travel about 120 miles for “business and (to) visit relatives entering service.” The permit was good for 30 days from date of issuance.
These permits and cards are part of my family’s World War II story. My family’s story is like so many people’s stories — stories of bravery and heartbreak, triumph and hardship. One of our most memorable and often-told stories centers around the FBI coming into my grandparents’ home and searching and threatening them. The focus of this story for my Nisei grandmother was always the friends who stood up for them and intervened with the FBI. They kept my grandparents and great-grandfather safe.
As a child, I always marveled that one couple could make such a difference in our family’s story. Now, as an adult, and in light of what I see playing out in this country, I marvel at their bravery, their kindness and compassion, and their integrity. They not only kept my grandparents safe but also gave them community and helped them keep their human dignity.
February 19 marks a day of remembrance for the Japanese American community. We remember Order 9066, which resulted in the internment of over 110,000 people of Japanese ancestry from Washington, Oregon and California. For years, “Never Again” was the motto that we truly believed in — a hopeful declaration that history would never repeat itself.
Right now, our country is faced with a question: How will we proceed with immigration reform? I believe most people agree that dangerous criminals need to be removed, but I am watching people being targeted due to their countries of origin, their accents and the color of their skin. Refugees, asylum seekers and even citizens are being detained and imprisoned. I see children taken after a day of school and families separated.
At the same time, I am witnessing incredible acts of heroism and compassion. In 2025, I saw people in Millcreek stand up for their refugee neighbors. I see people in Minneapolis who have united to provide food, safety and community to their immigrant neighbors. These people give me hope that if we all watch for ways to reach out with courage and compassion, someday soon we can again say with conviction, “Never Again.”
Aimee Kawakami Stewart
Springville