Sometimes I think we forget what a tapestry or quilt our country is made from. Different people, different cultures, just different. And yet, all human beings. All looking for a piece of the American dream.
In a lot of what I’ve been reading, I’ve been gravitating toward injustices. Perhaps it is because of the political climate at this time. Or, perhaps, my sensibilities have shifted. Either way, here are a few parts of the novel that stood out to me.
“...prominent members of Congress, were looking at the number of Japanese immigrants in Hawai’i - and other parts of the western United States - with mounting alarm about something they called ‘Oriental colonization.’ It was not a matter of race, they claimed, but of culture…America’s culture and values had to be preserved against this invasion from outside its borders.” (304)
“Hawai’i was ruled by a privileged elite who felt themselves above the law, and those of us with darker skin or a different cast to our eyes were merely second-class citizens. We had been brought here to do the hard manual labor that haoles would not stoop to perform, and that was what we always would be in their eyes: common laborers, who were simply not to be accorded the same rights as they.” (377)
Sounds rather familiar doesn’t it? The American dream. But for who?
