21 Apr No Exceptions: A Personal Reflection from Erich Nakano
No Exceptions
by Erich Nakano, LTSC Executive Director
As Little Tokyo Service Center (LTSC) celebrates its 45th anniversary this year, and as I near the end of my tenure as Executive Director, I’ve been reflecting on my career and my hope for LTSC’s future. At the center of it all is the fight for social justice and equity–pillars that are currently under attack by the Trump Administration.
I’m shocked and outraged at what is happening in our country today, seeing Executive Orders and federal budget cuts and wholesale firings on a daily basis. But one act in particular struck a personal chord.
A few weeks ago, the Supreme Court allowed the Trump Administration to use the Alien Enemies Act of 1798 to deport over 200 Venezuelan immigrants and incarcerate them in a notorious El Salvadorian prison, claiming they were criminals but with no evidence nor due process. The Alien Enemies Act is a “wartime” law that has only been used 3 times in American history. The most recent use was in 1941, when the US government detained and incarcerated Japanese Americans (as well as Italian and German Americans) following the attack on Pearl Harbor by Japan.
Under that Act, both of my grandfathers were arrested by FBI agents–also without due process or evidence of criminal activity. One grandfather was detained in a federal detention center on Sand Island, Hawaii, and the other in Crystal City, Texas. They were held for months. Their families (including my parents and their siblings) had no idea where they were, why they were being held, and what was going to happen.
The Alien Enemies Act led to one of the most infamous Executive Orders in American history: Executive Order 9066. EO9066 authorized the incarceration of 125,000 Japanese Americans (mostly American citizens) into America’s concentration camps. Families were broken up, forced to leave their homes, dispossessed of their property and belongings, and stripped of civil rights and freedoms. The Japanese American community (including my parents, who were teenagers then) was shaped by the trauma of this experience and its aftermath. To this day, there has never been evidence of Japanese American security threats to the United States.
Japanese Americans had few allies in 1942. Some non-Japanese Asian Americans wore signs saying “I am not Japanese”. The fear and intimidation generated by authoritarian federal action silenced many, even though they felt what was happening was wrong. That intimidation carried over after the camps, with many Japanese Americans feeling they needed to lay low and not “stand out” for fear of being singled out again.
With today’s invocation of the Alien Enemies Act, and brazen targeting and retaliation against those who dare to speak out, it’s chilling to see history repeat itself almost 85 years after my family was wrongly incarcerated.
But there is another chapter to this story. 40 years after the American concentration camps, my parents turned their pain and bitterness into action and redemption. They became activists and leaders in an extraordinary movement for redress and reparations (monetary compensation for Japanese Americans unjustly incarcerated and a formal apology from the U.S. government). Because of the work of activists like my parents (and many allies), the movement for redress and reparations was successful with the passage of the Civil Liberties Act of 1988.
I am so proud of my mother and father. They did not let their trauma break their spirit or self-respect. They taught me that even though racism is as American as apple pie, I can and should be proud of being Japanese American. I can and should stand up and demand that this country fulfill the values of equality and justice it espouses.
My parents’ example inspired me to dedicate my life to LTSC, and to stand in the tradition of those who refused to stay silent in the face of injustice. The work we do—like so many nonprofits across the country—is rooted in the belief that the government should serve the people, not punish them.
Today’s threats—from revoking nonprofit status to bypassing due process, discrediting trusted institutions, and slashing federal funding—are not just policy decisions. They are calculated efforts to suppress accountability and silence dissent. This is not about public interest. It is about abusing power. And we know—from my own family history—where that leads.
I’m proud to be my parents’ son, and proud to be part of LTSC’s enduring legacy of commitment to community. As we enter a new chapter under Takao Suzuki and Peter Gee’s leadership, LTSC will remain unwavering in its mission. We will continue to speak out, stand firm, and do what’s right—just as we always have. No exceptions.
This is a personal reflection by Erich Nakano, shared as he closes his tenure as Executive Director of Little Tokyo Service Center. It is grounded in his family’s lived experiences and the enduring values that have long guided LTSC’s mission. Pictured in header: Public Hearing held by the Commission on Wartime Relocation and Internment of Civilians held in Los Angeles, Roy Nakano, 1981.




No Comments