From the March 2011 issue of Our Moment, the UConn Foundation's e-newsletter.
They came from the beet fields of Idaho, the machine shops of Chicago, and from the diners of Waterbury. Young Nisei—children of Japanese immigrants—freed from the detention camps after World War II and working throughout the United States, now wanted a college education. Going to college was part of their culture.
But not everyone wanted them. Indiana as a whole shunned the Japanese. New York Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia said, “Keep them out of my city.” Who would welcome them?
Satoshi Oishi (life member, UConn Alumni Association), forced from his home in California into an internment camp, had found a job with his father working at a diner in Waterbury. They were both Isseis – born in Japan – and Satoshi Oishi remembers the slight suffered by his people in the United States as if it were yesterday. He remembers, too, those who helped. Quakers set up the National Japanese American Student Relocation Council in 1942, and canvassed colleges and universities throughout the United States to see if they would accept the would-be students.
UConn said yes.
Oishi and many other Nisei and Issei students from wartime gathered on campus some years ago for a 60th reunion. Again and again, the same story of gratitude was shared. “Our common experience first was that when we were looking for a college to go to in 1944-45, UConn was the one that welcomed us,” he says. “All of us are eternally grateful for the hospitality and friendship that was shown to us.”
Oishi and his wife Jeanette, who met while students at UConn, said thank you another way recently. They created a charitable remainder trust to benefit the university. “This gift celebrates our connection and our feelings toward UConn,” he says.
During the war, UConn’s campus accurately reflected the population of Connecticut: thousands of Irish and Italian immigrants, Catholics, New England Protestants. Yet the Japanese students prospered on campus. When Oishi was there, they were captain of the football and baseball teams and president of the Engineering Club. Oishi excelled, becoming a member of Chi Epsilon, the engineering honors society, and joining the staff of the campus newspaper and numerous other clubs and committees. In his senior year, he was elected for inclusion in Who’s Who of American Colleges.
UConn had embraced the young people, who were trying to recover from the humiliation and isolation that were part of the internment camp experience. The rest of the country took a while to come around. Thousands of Japanese lost their homes and their livelihoods in the controversial relocation decree. But Oishi kept the faith. “I used to tell my parents, ‘This is America and this is going to be righted,” he says.
Forty years later, it was. In a letter to Japanese immigrants and the Nisei affected by the internment, President George H.W. Bush wrote a formal public apology. “A monetary sum and words alone cannot restore lost years or erase painful memories; neither can they fully convey our Nation’s resolve to rectify injustice and to uphold the rights of individuals,” he wrote. “We can never fully right the wrongs of the past. But we can take a clear stand for justice and recognize that serious injustices were done to Japanese Americans during World War II.”
Oishi graduated with a degree in civil engineering and stayed on the East Coast, eventually becoming chairman of the engineering and construction firm Edwards and Kelcey. He appreciates the education UConn gave to him, and perhaps most important, the welcome it showed.
“For many of us, UConn really was like a second home,” Oishi says. “I wanted to say thank you.”
To make a planned gift, please contact Hal Reed at 860-486-6035 or visit the Foundation's development department.