How we cite our quotes: (Part.Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #1
Kiyo and I were too young to run around, but often we would eat in gangs with other kids, while the grownups sat at another table…. A couple of years after the camps opened, sociologists studying the life noticed what had happened to the families. They made some recommendations, and edicts when out that families must start eating together again. Most people resented this; they griped and grumbled. They were in the habit of eating with their friends. And until the mess hall system itself could be changed, not much could really be done. It was too late. My own family, after three years of mess hall living, collapsed as an integrated unit. (1.5.6-7)
Weird how your eating habits can determine how strong your family is, right? The dinner table can be so central to family unity, bringing everyone together over meals. No wonder Jeanne's obsessed with the big dinner table they used to own at the Ocean Park house.
Quote #2
Soon after we were released I wrote a paper for a seventh-grade journalism class, describing how we used to hunt grunion before the war. The whole family would go down to Ocean Park Beach after dark, when the grunion were running, and build a big fire on the sand. I would watch Papa and my older brothers splash through the moonlit surf to scoop out the fish, then we'd rush back to the house where Mama would fry them up and set the sizzling pan on the table, with soy sauce and horseradish, for a midnight meal. I ended the paper with this sentence: "The reason I want to remember this is because I know we'll never be able to do it again." (1.5.9)
There's not much more we can add to this story. Obviously it tugs at the heartstrings because it's not something that should happen, and yet, it does. Families do fall apart. It doesn't help, of course, when the U.S. government steps in and forces families to split.
Quote #3
You might say it would have happened sooner or later anyway, this sliding apart of such a large family, in postwar California. People get married; their interests shift. But there is no escaping the fact that our internment accelerated the process, made it happen so suddenly it was almost tangible. Not only did we stop eating at home, there was no longer a home to eat in. The cubicles we had were too small for anything you might call "living." Mama couldn't cook meals there. It was impossible to find any privacy there. We slept there and spent most of our waking hours elsewhere. (1.5.10-11)
Here's an irony for you: in order for a family to remain close, family members actually need a lot of living space apart from each other. Why is that? (We'll leave that one for you to ponder.)