She said she had nothing to forswear. She’d been in American for almost twenty years now. But she did not want to cause any trouble— “The nail that sticks up gets hammered down”—or to be labeled disloyal. She did not want to be sent back to Japan. “There’s no future for us there. We’re here. (Otsuka 99).
In a Stranger’s Backyard chapter, Otsuka explores the idea of loyalty and dissent among Japanese Americans. For the mother, the act of proving her loyalty to her country became as hollow as Jefferson’s words penned in the Declaration. This country exploits your labor in internment camps, yet discards your basic civil rights like a rind of fruit.
The novel concludes with an honest, yet telling event of internal reconciliation for the Japanese-American family. How does the family—mother, father, son, and daughter—reconcile their warring identities? How can they reconcile the three years and five months of unjust internment? How will their past have a bearing on their future—their relationships with their hostile white American neighbors, their attempts at total assimilation, and their painful recollections of their experiences in Tanforan, Utah, and Santa Fe? (Otsuka 134). In their own words, “the war had been an interruption, nothing more. We would pick up our lives where we had left off and go on. We would never be mistaken for the enemy again!” (Otsuka114). They knew it was better to “bend than to break”—to accept the past, but remained resolved to improve their life circumstances (Otsuka