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I lived in San Pedro, California, which is, you know, on the west side of California, and it's where many, many Japanese lived.

I was fortunate to live for 3 years in another country, and although we lived in an American compound, still as a young adolescent I did venture into the world of the Japanese with great interest and enjoyment. But many Americans never left that safe and familiar life among their own people.

As an American, you appreciate the importance of our security alliance, the importance of the economic ties between our two countries, and while I knew of the two bonds between our two people, until I came here, I didn't really appreciate how deep the people-to-people connections are between the American people and the Japanese people.

After college, I wanted to learned about myself as an American, so I left the United States and went to Japan.

My life was very Japanese.

The Japanese seem to be a loyal audience.

I'm Japanese, but restaurants in my hometown served the most sanitized versions of California rolls. I grew up eating a lot of Japanese food at home that my parents or grandparents made.

But when we came out of camp, that's when I first realized that being in camp, that being Japanese-American, was something shameful.