by Melissa I. Cardenas-Dow
Some time in mid-April 2014, I had a brief conversation with Donna Graves, Project Co-Director of East at Main Street, a mapping project of the Asian & Pacific Islander Americans in Historic Preservation (APIAHiP) and located online in the crowd-sourced, web-based mapping tool, HistoryPin. Please visit East at Main Street and contribute! URL: http://www.historypin.com/project/51-east-at-main-street
Below is an article on our online conversation, edited for clarity and brevity.
Melissa Cardenas-Dow (MICD): Thanks for agreeing to speak with me about APIAHiP and the East at Main Street Mapping Project. First, can you tell us a little bit about yourself, your role in APIAHiP and the Mapping Project?
Donna Graves (DG): I am a public historian and community planner based in Northern California. I am the Co-Director of the East at Main Street Mapping Project with Michelle Magalong.APIAHiP is a grassroots organization of people who are committed to preserving historic and cultural places important to diverse APIA communities.
APIAHiP has, to-date, conducted two national forums that have been attended by approximately 300 people. These gatherings have been very inspiring and encouraging, bringing together many different people from a variety of fields and backgrounds, sharing practices and expertise. The third national forum will be held in September 2014 in Washington DC. Even though these forums have been wonderful, we wanted to find a way for people who may not be able to attend them to participate and engage in historic preservation of Asian/Pacific Islander American heritage. The East at Main Street Mapping Project on HistoryPin is one way for us to accomplish this. It’s a newly launched project that allows participants to share photos, text, images, and videos about important places from their personal or institutional collections. We are combining memories captured through digital objects and place-based or location-based gathering.
MICD: So, if I understand you correctly, hypothetically speaking, old photographs of a street corner where my great uncle would gather with his other Asian American peers and transcripts from an interview I conducted with him are welcome?
DG: Yes! We are interested in a broad range of sources, not just known, identified, and designated historic landmarks. We hope to uncover knowledge of life and cultural practices from various perspectives. A parade route, for instance, would be a great cultural practice to record. We accept images, video clips, and text pinned onto the HistoryPin map of the East at Main Street Project. We want to see both more scholarly-based and more community-based information shared on the Project map.
MICD: What goals or purpose does the East at Main Street Mapping Project hope to achieve?
DG: Broadly speaking, we hope to achieve greater, wider exposure to the APIA communities’ contributions to American history. Just speaking about historic landmarks alone, less than 5% of sites on the National Register are significant to communities of color.
In another sense, East at Main Street Mapping Project is very timely. The National Park Service is currently conducting the first national theme study done about APIA history and historic sites. Their process tends to be more academic and it can be really difficult to ground the scholarship to place and geography. East at Main Street is a promising complement to bridge scholarly and community-based knowledge about APIA heritage.
Michelle and I are on the Advisory Committee for the NPS study. East at Main Street Mapping Project is partially funded by the NPS National Center for Preservation Training and Technology. In this context, we see the purpose of East at Main Street as: 1) aid the NPS theme study; and 2) raise the visibility of APIA historic sites and landmarks, as well as sites significant to community-based and cultural practices.
MICD: Do the submissions go through any kind of review process before it goes up onto the map?
DG: Our emphasis for the East at Main Street Mapping Project is not to come up with a heavily curated collection of information and sites. We are very much interested in enabling community visibility and participation. The first tier of review is done by HistoryPin, after that Michelle and I go through the submissions. We’ve found that East at Main Street is a great way to able to extend the life of the community history work people may have already done. Pinning information on the map allows organizations to find a new audience for projects and scholarship that is being done on this subject, and, we hope, will make East at Main Street Mapping Project a new venue for this type of knowledge-sharing and discussion.
MICD: What message would you give to users and other organizations to communicate the value of East at Main Street Mapping Project?
DG: We are very much interested in raising community participation, so we’ve been conducting workshops on the East Coast and will be scheduling Google Hangout sessions and webinars. The next workshop will be held at the Riverside Municipal Museum in Riverside, Calif. on Saturday, May 31, 2014, from 10:00 to 11:30 a.m. Please rsvp, since space is limited.
For more information, please refer to the APIAHiP blog http://apiahipmappingproject.blogspot.com. More workshops and webinars are being planned and will be posted on the blog as soon as details are ready.
Interested in participating? Please see the Getting Started booklet available at http://blog.historypin.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/East-At-Main_Getting-Started-Guide-final.pdf.
Editing assistance provided by Donna Graves and Jeremiah Paschke-Wood.
The 2014 ALA Annual Conference in Las Vegas is right around the corner, and we hope to see many of you there. Please join us for an APALA fundraising event with a tour of the fabulous Zappos http://www.zapposinsights.com/ corporate headquarters and the community-focused Downtown Project http://downtownproject.com/, both owned by Asian-American leader Tony Hsieh. Your donation supports APALA’s scholarships and awards including the ALA Emerging Leaders Sponsorship and the Sheila Suen Lai Research Grant, plus events like our upcoming 35th Anniversary Celebration in 2015!
We will meet at Flamingo Las Vegas Hotel on Friday, June 27, 2014 at 10:30 a.m. and return at 2:30 p.m. Transportation will be provided, and we hope you can come and network with other librarians over lunch downtown!
To register, please click on the link below.
Flamingo Las Vegas Hotel
3555 South Las Vegas Blvd.
Las Vegas, NV 89109
Early Bird Registration for Members (ends June 7, 2014) $ 25.00
Early Bird Registration for Non-Members (ends June 7, 2014) $ 30.00
Regular Registration for Members (June 8 – June 25) $ 30.00
Registration for Non-Members (June 8 – June 25) $ 35.00
Onsite/Late Registration (after June 25) $ 40.00
The annual awards program will be held from 5:30-8:30 p.m. on Saturday June 28, 2014 at KJ’s Dim Sum & Seafood Restaurant in conjunction with the 2014 ALA Annual Conference. Several winning authors have confirmed in attending the banquet.
Cynthia Kadohata. The Thing About Luck. Children’s Literature Winner
Ji-li Jiang. Red Kite, Blue Kite. Picture Book Winner
Marissa Moss. Barbed Wire Baseball, illustrated by Yuko Shimizu. Picture Book Honor
Leza Lowitz and Shogo Oketani. Jet Black and the Ninja Wind. Young Adult Literature
Adult Non-Fiction Winner: Cindy I-Fen Cheng. Citizens of Asian America: Democracy and Race during the Cold War
Following the formal presentation and dinner buffet, authors will be available for book signing.
To register, please click on the link below.
KJ’s Dim Sum & Seafood Restaurant http://www.lasvegas.com/listing/kj-dim-sum–seafood-chinese-
3700 W. Flamingo Rd.
Las Vegas, 89103
Early Bird Registration for Members (ends June 7, 2014) $ 35.00
Early Bird Registration for Non-Members (ends June 7, 2014) $ 40.00
Regular Registration for Members (June 8 – June 26) $ 40.00
Registration for Non-Members (June 8 – June 26) $ 45.00
Onsite/Late Registration (after June 26) $ 50.00
by Ann Matsushima Chiu
Densho was first introduced to me while working on the book project “Speaking Out for Personal Justice: Site Summaries of Testimonies and Witnesses Registry from the U.S. Commission of Wartime Relocation and Internment of Civilians Hearings (CWRIC),1981,” published by the UCLA Asian American Studies Center. It was my introduction to library and archival work, and subsequent involvement with the preservation of Japanese American historical materials. Densho is a wonderful reference in my current digital archives internship at the Oregon Nikkei Legacy Center in Portland, Ore. It is our hope that you explore this rich digital archive of Japanese American wartime incarceration and history.
APALA would like to thank Geoff Froh and Brian Niiya from Densho for their time and willingness to participate in this interview. The following article presents a version of our interview that has been edited for clarity and brevity. Geoff Froh, Deputy Director for Densho, and Brian Niiiya, Content Director for Densho and Editor of the Densho Encyclopedia, both provided answers to my interview questions.
Ann Matsushima Chiu (AMC): How did Densho as a nonprofit organization come about? Where does Densho’s content come from?
Densho began in 1996 with the idea of interviewing Japanese Americans about their World War II concentration camp experience “to educate, preserve, collaborate and inspire action for equity.” Inspired in part by the Survivors of the Shoah Project, a Steven Spielberg-led endeavor to record the testimony of Holocaust survivors on video, Densho’s founders recognized that with the advent of personal computers, digital video, and the Internet, the collection, preservation, and distribution of high quality video life histories could now be accomplished for a fraction of the cost. Densho decided early on that it would make its materials available without charge for anyone using them for educational purposes and that it would house no physical collection that the digital files offered on its website would be its main “product.” In conducting its interviews, Densho found that many interview subjects also had photographs or documents that added to the stories they told. Densho added digital images of these items to the website, and began to seek out additional similar objects from both individuals and families and from institutions to add to its digital archive. In addition, Densho has a good deal of public domain material from various governmental archives. In recent years, Densho has included to its archive full interviews conducted by makers of documentary films about the wartime incarceration. Densho has also actively sought mutually beneficial collaborations with collecting institutions that allow important material that had been buried in archives to reach much larger audience through Densho’s online archives.
AMC: Amongst the many collections, such as the Visual History Collection, Photo/Document Collection, Oral Histories and Incarceration Camp Facilities, one of the archives that caught our eye was the Camp Newspapers Collection created by Japanese Americans in incarceration camps during World War II. It is interesting to have such rare digital objects of this nature available to the public.Could you share any interesting research that has come about through the availability of Densho’s collections? What are the rules for reuse and publication of digital images on Densho.org?
Densho is well established among scholars of the Japanese American World War II experience, and it would not be an exaggeration to say that most recent scholarship on this general topic has made use of Densho’s resources, including such important recent books as Greg Robinson’s “After Camp: Portraits in Midcentury Japanese American Life and Politics” (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2012); Gordon K. Hirabayashi with James A. Hirabayashi and Lane Ryo Hirabayashi’s “A Principled Stand: The Story of Hirabayashi v. United States” (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2013), Eileen Tamura’s “In Defense of Justice: Joseph Kurihara and the Japanese American Struggle for Equality” (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2013), and Ellen Wu’s “The Color of Success: Asian Americans and the Origins of the Model Minority” (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2014). Many graduate theses and students’ assignments make use of Densho resources as well. Densho holds a strong belief that the responsibility of an archival institution begins with preservation; but must extend to the active use of its holdings. Core to Densho’s strategy for encouraging the dissemination of its materials is a simple framework for licensing and reuse. The majority of oral histories conducted by Densho, along with many of the digital photos and objects in its collections are offered under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. This grants the right to freely reuse and remix Densho’s content as long as it is properly cited and for noncommercial purposes (see: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/). For many of the other digital objects in its collections not covered under Creative Commons, Densho has secured the rights to grant license for other educational projects. The most current information about using Densho content and licensing is available at: http://www.densho.org/default.asp?path=/archive/usingcontent.asp and http://ddr.densho.org/using/.
AMC: What are some unique characteristics of Densho that API information professionals would especially be interested in?
One Densho resource that would be of interest is the Densho Encyclopedia. A free, professionally edited, online encyclopedia that includes contributions from many of the leading scholars of the Japanese American experience, the encyclopedia is aimed at nonspecialists looking for concise information on that experience. Encyclopedia articles include citations and references readers may consult for further information as well as links to selected Densho resources relevant to that topic. The encyclopedia would be useful for information professionals in fielding reference requests, writing or updating finding aids for archival collections, or determining which book or videos on the incarceration experience to purchase, among many other uses.
AMC: Are there any education projects or community collaborations that Densho would highlight in particular?
Densho’s education efforts in recent years have centered on a program of workshops that trains high school teachers across the country to use Densho’s digital resources to teach not only about the wartime incarceration, but about larger issues of civil liberties in wartime. The most recent project involved 625 teachers from 22 states. Recognizing that even that number of teachers can reach only a fraction of the students in the country, Densho is currently working on an online version of the teacher workshops.
With regards to collaborations, Densho is involved in formal partnerships with several community organizations including the Heart Mountain Interpretive Center, the Japanese American Museum of San Jose, the Japanese American National Museum, the Japanese Cultural Center of Hawai’i, Oregon Nikkei Endowment, and the Hawai’i Times Photographic Archive Foundation. In each case, Densho is working with the institution to digitize objects in their collections to add to the Densho Digital Repository. Densho collaborates with many other organizations informally.
AMC: What message would you give to librarians/archivists regarding their value to digital collections like Densho? How would Densho like to engage future APA information professionals?
Densho would like to continue to build partnerships with institutions that collect materials about the Japanese American World War II experience and is interested in hearing from information professionals who manage these collections, whether about possible collaboration or about the common issues we face. In an era when so many turn to the Internet for research, Densho is committed to building the best online resource in our topic area, and we’d like to be as inclusive and open as we can.
For more information on “Speaking Out for Personal Justice: Site Summaries of Testimonies and Witnesses Registry from the U.S. Commission of Wartime Relocation and Internment of Civilians Hearings (CWRIC),1981,” visit http://www.speakingoutforpersonaljustice.com.
Editorial assistance provided by Jeremiah Paschke-Wood.
I am a Muslim. I am an American. My father is Indonesian and my birth mother is Okinawan. I grew up in the Monterey Bay area in northern California. Growing up, I was never perceived as Asian. At one time, I chose “Pacific Islander” as my ethnicity, since my peers kept telling me that real Asians looked a certain way. That way didn’t look like me. Before I started wearing a headscarf, people assumed that I was Mexican. It was not an unfair assumption. The majority of the ethnic minorities in my primarily Caucasian town were Mexican or of Mexican descent. But it became rather tiresome to try to defend my inability to speak Spanish or know about my culture, when it really was just what others assumed as my culture. Not that I knew a ton about either of my inherited cultures in the first place. So, to add another layer to what I was supposed to know, a collective history of people over the last 1,400 years from different continents, cultures, languages, races – just because we shared a common religion – was just a little bit daunting.
A 2009 Gallup report found that the American Muslim community is the “most racially diverse religious group surveyed in the United States.” African Americans constitute 35 percent of this demographic and more than a quarter classify themselves as racially white, (yes, Virginia, a lot of Arabs check the white box), 20 percent are Asian, 18 percent identify as other, and 1 percent identify as Hispanic. So many Muslims have talked about our large “imagined community” and what it means here in the United States. In this country, as in others, the Muslim community is a blend of Islamic ideas and identities. What it means to be Muslim is a conscious existential choice rather than a cultural given. It is a microcosm of the larger world and an amalgamation of identities, practices and norms that vie for a place of being authentic, Islamically and morally correct.
Since Islam is more of a blending of my cultural norm and ethnic identity, nationality took precedence in my identity, and I identified as just an American. I went to school, hung out with friends, did my homework and was involved in multiple extracurricular activities. It didn’t even occur to me that I was different from my friends, except that I knew I was Muslim, Indonesian and Japanese. I did have a teacher ask one time if English was my second language and a parent ask if anyone had ever discriminated against me because I wasn’t white. That was when the concept of identity really entered my consciousness. I asked my friends what they thought of me. They just said they saw me as me, and that meant more to me than anything else. It still does. The concept of a colorblind society was an idea that disturbed me, though, and I began to realize the privilege my peers had and what my own privilege had been.
Then 9/11 happened. I can honestly say that before then, I never thought I would wear a scarf. I was deeply interested in my faith, but it was much more in the context of history and spirituality rather than in actual practice. Until I went to college and met other Muslims, I only knew some of the social and religious normatives in the “mainstream” Muslim community. As I grew in my faith, I adopted more of these social mores, and my identity became more complex. When I put on my scarf, I automatically became an Arab. People assumed that I knew Arabic, that I didn’t know English, and that some man in my family was oppressing me, forcing me to veil myself.
Even my own family’s perception of me changed. One of my uncles was worried that I was never going to have fun again. My identity became faith first, then ethnicity and nationality. Yet, I was a minority within a minority, as most of the students in my Muslim Students’ Association were Pakistani and Arab. Strangely, though I was already supposed know everything about my collective Islamic history, my parents resented my adopting more Arab dress. I thought it was fine if I was wearing clothing from everywhere and everyone, but Indonesia wasn’t very well represented in Islamic fashion, at least in the States. And though this has changed in recent years, I found that unless they had been to the archipelago, other Muslims did not know much about Indonesia, other than that it is the most populous Muslim country in the world. It is a strange thing to think, in a community that is so large and diverse, it is almost an accepted norm to know each other by stereotypes.
I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to study abroad in Turkey in 2003. Like most study-abroad experiences, it was enlightening in so many ways, both frustrating and rewarding. What I found amusing, though, was the perception of Muslim Americans by the Turkish students I met. I had a conversation with a slightly inebriated young man who had watched “Malcolm X” and thought all Muslims in America were black. I thought it was funny when one of the Turkish girls on my floor said that they loved the slight chink in my eyes and declared me to be Asian, not questionably Asian. I was also able to travel a bit, visit other countries in the region. My overall takeaway from that experience was realizing just how American I am, despite, or perhaps because of, my multi-layered identity. Upon returning to the U.S., I felt like my identity had fractured even more.
When I was young, my cousin’s cousin came over from Indonesia to visit one summer. Upon meeting me, then a teenager, he declared me to be hancur. Hancur is an Indonesia word and has an array of meanings. In this particular context, it was used to describe something broken. It was not a nice thing to say. People with multiple backgrounds can have a view that might even be described as multi-faceted — layering mixed cultures, American identity, religion outside of the status quo and the perception of others. Such a viewpoint can lead to confusion, despair and the idea that one is never enough. I felt this way particularly during graduate school, despite my attending a program that had a cohort that was substantially diverse and in a very multicultural city. Graduate school can be an isolating experience for everyone, but I felt almost unwelcome, though I received my MLIS at my undergraduate alma mater. Little incidents, like hearing someone say there was too much of a focus on diversity in our program, having books knocked out of my hands as someone brushed past me, or facing glares in class from those that perceived me to be strongly prejudiced against the LGBT community, were flooring. The latter particularly disturbed me, as a relative had just come out to our family and I was helping my friend, a trans-man, acclimate to the area and to his physically expressed, postoperative identity.
Added to that was my attendance at a professional librarian panel program, in which a known critic of Islam was invited to speak. This panel was intended for an audience of ethnic and multicultural librarians as a representation of my community. By extension, it was meant to represent me. I felt even more unwelcome in the library field.
Graduate school allows a student to develop skills and explore professional opportunities, but I found myself paralyzed into inaction. I entered the library field because of my interest and belief in the power of libraries. I wanted to provide information and dispel misinformation, not only in general, but specifically false impressions about any of my communities. I thought that it would be empowering for the public to see a person who looks like me working at the local level and to see that I was a normal person. I do regret not being more active, or more willing to advocate for myself during my graduate school years, but I was unwilling to share so much of myself with people whom I thought would not accept me even if I tried. It was much later though, with the help and support of a few good friends, and the recommendation of a professor to join APALA, that I was able to find my feet and my voice again.
There are problems that I face everyday, or at least on a regular basis. I have had patrons leave me proselytizing material, had a child ask if I was going to blow up the building, and have even received an anonymous death threat while on the job. I have been called “that Korean lady,” “that White lady” and, my favorite, “the lady with the rag on her head.” Like all of us in the public eye, I have had my share of negative experiences and I am sure there will be more over the course of my career. Working as a children’s librarian has also given me some of the most rewarding experiences of my life.
Finding support from other professionals in the field who have had similar experiences helped me to move beyond those negative experiences. Now more than ever, I am determined to stay true to my initial career goals, develop professionally and share my experiences with others. I hope that people will see me for who I am beyond my appearances and beyond stereotyping in the field and out of it.
Ariana Sani Hussain
Children’s Librarian at District of Columbia Public Library
Editing assistance provided by Melissa Cardenas-Dow and Jeremiah Paschke-Wood.
Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism by Benedict Anderson
The New Imagined Community by Uriya Shavit
Pew Research Center:
Muslim Americans: Middle Class and Mostly Mainstream
How Muslims Compare With Other Religious Americans: http://www.pewresearch.org/2007/07/06/how-muslims-compare-with-other-religious-americans/
Encyclopedia of Muslim-American History by Edward E. Curtis IV
Muslim American Youth: Understanding Hyphenated Identities through Multiple Methods by Selcuk R. Sirin and Michelle Fine
Living Islam Out Loud: American Muslim Women Speak edited Saleemah Abdul-Ghafur
I Speak for Myself: American Women on Being Muslim edited Maria M Ebrahimji & Zahra T Suratwala
Muslim Women in America: The Challenge of Islamic Identity Today by Yvonne Yazbeck Haddad, Jane I. Smith and Kathleen M. Moore
Love in a Headscarf by Shelina Janmohamed
Does My Head Look Big In This? by Randa Abdel-fattah (YA)
The Butterfly Mosque: A Young American Woman’s Journey to Love and Islam by G. Willow Wilson