No-no Boy: An Asian American Classic
Hi everyone! It’s been a while since my last post, and I apologize for that. To make up for that time difference, I’ll write about one of my favorite recent Asian American reads: No-no Boy by John Okada.
Before I start the post, I just wanted to give some context to this book. To start, this novel is an Asian American classic that I think everyone should read. It dives into the lives of Japanese Americans post-WW2, especially under the lens of “no-no boys,” or men who refused to join the American army during the war. These men faced racism from white Americans but also were confronted with discrimination from other fellow Japanese Americans for “betraying” their American roots. There are some relatively dark topics discussed in this book (e.g. war), but it is truly a wonderful read, and I 100% recommend it.
While it was hard to find relatable themes in a war-centric book, a theme in this book that I found really interesting was the generational gap between older, first-gen immigrants and their children. Okada starts this book by emphasizing the difference between Ichiro Yamada, the protagonist and known no-no boy in his neighborhood, and his parents. While the older generation only speak Japanese, using a few English phrases here and there, the younger gen stick strictly to English. This language difference might not seem like much and only a matter of upbringing, but in the circumstances of this novel (1950’s West Coast), the language preference is also tied directly to patriotism. For example, most of the older gen, though not all, stay more loyal to their Japanese roots even in the midst of war. On the other hand, the younger generation is very loyal to America, with almost all of them opting to serve the country as some sort of reparation on the behalf of their cousins over-seas. And the no-no boys who seem to be more loyal to their ethnic roots over national ones are usually influenced by the older generation.
Have you ever witnessed similar generational gaps? And how did you respond/adapt/react to them over time?
While I cannot relate to war and patriotism during times of crisis, I can definitely see how generational differences play large roles in many Asian American households. Both my parents are completely fluent in Chinese and English, but many other families do have Yamada’s language differences stem from these age gaps. From what I’ve understood from friends and from online, this can be a hurdle to overcome by Asian Americans across the country, but it sometimes can bring families closer together as well! Like bonding over learning each language or finding uniques ways to exist as a bilingual family.
Another important part of this novel was the idea of belonging. Certain characters in this novel, especially the no-no boys who face discrimination from all sorts of people, struggle with finding a community to belong to. Okada uses the terms “Japanese-American,” “American-Japanese,” and “Japanese-Japanese” to categorize people in his novel. While slightly problematic due to how it turns a collective group against each other, it is, unfortunately, a reality during the divided times post-WW2 and even today. A quote pulled from one of Yamada’s monologues goes like this: “I wish with all my heart that I were Japanese or that I were American. I am neither and I blame you and I blame myself and I blame the world which is made up of many countries which fight with each other and kill and hate and destroy but not enough, so that they must kill and hate and destroy again and again and again.” Once again, the factor of war is not as prevalent in many people’s lives today, but that feeling of not belonging to either “Asian” or “American” is a familiar feeling to many.
Have you ever struggled with belonging? Or has it always been more straightforward? What was it like to be in either situation?
I’ve luckily, for the most part, have been rather secure in my identity and sense of belonging, but there are definitely moments where it kinda loosens. For example, it’s both hilarious and sad when I go out to eat with my parents, and I get to meet a kid, maybe 10-12 years younger than me, who speaks Chinese at a far more fluent rate than I can. It’s definitely an understandable experience since I spent a lot of my childhood stubbornly refusing to learn Mandarin, but even small experiences like that are frustrating to go through. However, I have also come to terms with being Asian American rather than strictly Asian or American, and thus learning to accept that balance has helped me no longer struggle with not feeling like I belong anywhere.