A Monument to Take Note Of: Manzanar National Historical Site

Driving north on the highway 395, it’s easy to let your mind wander at the abundance of open land. But just when you think the only thing you are going to find is quaint farms or scenic views, the guard tower comes into view.  

Manzanar is not just a monument to a historical moment in time, it’s a monument of failure. Specifically the failure of political leadership, war hysteria, and racial prejudice.

“Congress established Manzanar National Historic Site on March 3, 1922. This one square mile of land is layered with several distinct eras of human history. It is a tangible place to explore intangible concepts such as power and subjugation, love and hate, loyalty and disloyalty, justice and injustice.” Manzanar National Historic Site exhibit marker

After the attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941, the United States was gripped by a fear that was entangled with long-standing racism. On February 19, 1942, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066. It was a deceptively written document that, although didn't specify that “Japanese Americans must be rounded up,” it gave the military the power to create "exclusion zones,” (designated military areas, from which any or all persons may be excluded.) It just so happened to cover every area where Japanese American families lived. The intent was to target the very demographic of Japanese Americans not in a voluntary relocation, but rather a large-scale state-sponsored kidnapping.

Within weeks, from the Pacific Northwest to southern Arizona, 120,000 men, women and children of Japanese ancestry (two-thirds of whom were American citizens) were forced to abandon their homes, schooling, farms and businesses and were taken against their will to Manzanar and nine other similar camps under armed guard. They were given days to sell their life’s work for pennies on the dollar and were told they could only bring what they could carry.

“Whirlwinds of dust welcomed Japanese Americans to Manzanar in early spring 1942. They arrived to rows of unfinished barracks, open sewer lines, and military police armed with rifles and bayonets.” Manzanar National Historic Site exhibit marker

For decades, the term "internment camp" was the standard euphemism used to describe Manzanar, portraying it to almost sound like a summer camp or a temporary stay. But survivors and the National Park Service fought to return to a more accurate term: Concentration Camp. Sure, it may not have been the Nazi death camps that the term typically conjures to mind, but by the literal definition of the word, this was indeed a concentration camp. It was a place where people were imprisoned not because they committed a crime, but because of who they were. In 1944, even President Roosevelt called them concentration camps. 

None of the 11,000+ people at Manzanar were ever charged with a crime. There were no trials, no lawyers and no expiration dates on their "sentences." The mass incarceration was done so through a suspension of the Constitution based on a claim that it was a necessity for national security.

Open for roughly 3.5 years (from March 1942 to November 1945) Manzanar transformed a desolate stretch of the Owens Valley into a high-density prison city. "Residents" were forced into cramped 20x25-foot barracks offering zero privacy and little protection from the extreme climate. Life was a constant struggle against the elements and the indignity of communal living. People stood in long lines for mess hall meals, used open-latrine bathrooms that stripped away any chance for personal privacy. 

"In each block, two latrines - one for women and one for men - served about 300 people. Women's latrines had ten toilets, men's had eight and a urinal." Manzanar National Historic Site exhibit marker

Even amongst the barbed wire and the searchlights that swept the camp at night, those incarcerated did their best to build any semblance of community that they could. They established schools, churches and even lush Japanese gardens, all while living under the constant watch of armed guards that perched in eight towers that surrounded the camp.

In 1945, Manzanar didn't close due to a change of heart by the government. It closed because it was forced to by the law and the ending of the war.

In late 1944, a case called Ex parte Endo reached the Supreme Court, in which, the court ruled that the government could not detain "concededly loyal" citizens against their will. And with the ending of WWII the “military necessity” excuse became impossible to maintain.

Manzanar officially closed on November 21, 1945. Each person was given $25 and a one-way train or bus ticket to wherever they wanted to go, but most had no homes or businesses left to return to and were forced to start from scratch where they could.

The original Manzanar High School auditorium now serves as a visitor center, and the grounds hold replicas of the original mess hall, barracks and latrines. It’s walking through the replica buildings, reading the history and listening the personal accounts from survivors that the weight of the injustice settles in.

I visited Manzanar for the first time during my first year away at college and I remember walking the site and exploring the museum thinking…damn I can’t imagine a world that was so rooted in fear and a need for control that they would allow this kind of unjust racism to take root for so long. I remember walking through the former pathways that thousands of people were forced to call “home” and feeling a sense of distant melancholy. Fast forward to present day. The dust kicking up at the faintest breeze, the brutal sun heating the air and ground below me, and the haunting juxtaposition of concentration camp and surrounding view of Mt. Williamson and the Sierra Nevada mountains. I walk the same path as before, but this time in an age where history is repeating itself and I am filled a deep gnawing sense of disgust and urge to scream into the void of the desert air for our country to wake the fuck up and hold the vile leaders accountable for fueling racism!

"Despite public misconceptions, Japanese Americans in Manzanar were as diverse as any group of 10,000 people. They were from cities and farms, young and old, rich and poor, extended families and single people. Most had never been to Japan, yet others only spoke Japanese. Fishermen from Terminal Island, doctors from Los Angeles, Buddhist priests and Catholic nuns were all forced from their pre-war homes to live in crowded apartments in identical barracks in Manzanar” Manzanar National Historic Site exhibit marker

And now for the social and political commentary you never asked for but are going to get anyway…

Why Manzanar Matters in the Age of "Alcatraz Island"

While I recall my visit to Manzanar and re-read the history of the camp thinking how this can never happen again, the current administration is reviving the very architecture of mass detention centers and concentration camps through projects like the "Alligator Alcatraz" and military efforts of ICE raids and patrols and they are not just repeating history, but industrializing it.

The legal battles surrounding these modern sites read like a dark echo to those that took place during Manzanar’s use. While advocates challenge that these “detention centers” force inhumane conditions, provide a lack of legal access, and have negative environmental impacts, defenders utilize the same blueprint of "national security" and "operational necessity" that was used to justify Manzanar, and rules that exempt these facilities from the oversight and environmental regulations that protect American citizens, effectively create "legal black holes.” Just as in 1942, utilizing key terminology and semantics allows for these type of actions to bypass the Fourth Amendment (protection against unreasonable search and seizure) and the Sixth Amendment (right to a speedy trial) as well as the National Environmental Policy Act, Clean Water Act, Endangered Species Act and the National Historic Preservation Act.

World War II Era Concentration Camps (1942–1945):	Modern Detention Camps (2025-2026):
Manzanar (CA): Peak population reached 10,046 (NPS Manzanar Historic Site Records).	Alligator Alcatraz (FL): Announced with a capacity of 3,000, with DHS officials citing expansion capabilities up to 5,000 detainees (ACLU/DHS reports, Aug 2025).
Tule Lake (CA): Peak population reached 18,789 after it was converted to a high-security segregation center (NPS Tule Lake Unit).	Deportation Depot (FL): Located at the Baker Correctional Institution, authorized for 1,300 beds with a $6 million setup cost (Florida Governor’s Office announcement, Aug 2025).
Poston (AZ): Peak population of 17,814 (Poston Community Alliance / HistoriCorps 2026).	Speedway Slammer (IN): Situated at the Miami Correctional Facility, authorized for 1,000 beds (DHS/Indiana State Govt. agreement, Aug 2025).
Gila River (AZ): Peak population of 13,348 (Densho Encyclopedia).	Cornhusker Clink (NE): Conversion of a prison labor camp in McCook, Nebraska, with a capacity of 300 beds (Nebraska Dept. of Correctional Services / Wikipedia, Nov 2025).
Heart Mountain (WY): Peak population of 10,767 (NPS Heart Mountain Interpretive Center).	Mega-Warehouse Sites: Part of the $170 billion "One Big Beautiful Act" (a.k.a. the $45 billion detention surge), which prioritizes the conversion of industrial warehouses into detention hubs in PA, AZ, and MD (Brennan Center for Justice / American Immigration Council, Jan 2026).
Total WWII Incarcerated: Approximately 120,000 individuals of Japanese ancestry (Executive Order 9066 official tally).	Total ICE Detention (2026): Reached 70,766 in January 2026 (TRAC at Work, Feb 5, 2026) • Many of those in current facilities were already living in the U.S. with legal work permits or under programs that allow them to comply with immigration proceedings while living in communities. These individuals were complying with check-ins until the 2025 policy shift made them subject to immediate detention.

This isn’t an isolated incident. Like Manzanar, “Alligator Alcatraz” is one of many camps that are expanding their reach. "Deportation Depot" in North Florida and the "Speedway Slammer" in Indiana, each house thousands under the guise of "immigration control." In Nebraska, the "Cornhusker Clink" is a testament to federal-state partnerships for mass incarceration, while in Louisiana, the reopening of "The Dungeon" at Angola brings back solitary confinement as a tool of terror. And “the recent “Mega-Warehouse" initiative, is aiming to gut and refit e-commerce hubs in Maryland, Pennsylvania, and Arizona to confine people who have been profiled and deemed a threat, placing them in isolation where the public can't see them, dehumanizing them through terminology, violating their human rights and using fear and the blanket excuse of national security to bypass laws. 

According to independent monitor TRAC (Syracuse University) and leaked ICE datasets, as of late January 2026, 74.2% of people in ICE detention have no criminal conviction. Of the roughly 25% who do have a record, the majority are for non-violent, "quality of life" offenses (most commonly traffic violations or previous immigration-related paperwork issues).

This is not just anger being blasted across strokes of a keyboard, it’s a plea and call to action of the importance to educate and re-educate ourselves about places like Manzanar, for it’s in their histories that they provide us with the knowledge and ability to recognize when these atrocities reemerge. 

History doesn't stay in the past; it waits for us to stop paying attention. Then, it simply rebrands itself, replaces the tar paper barracks with corrugated steel and repeats the cycle.

How You Can Act Today

Support the Keepers of Memory: 

Donate to or volunteer with the Manzanar Committee or Tsuru for Solidarity. These organizations bridge the gap between Japanese American survivors and modern immigrant communities, proving that the struggle for civil rights is a single, continuous thread.

Contact Your Representatives & Demand Transparency:

The current administration has moved to limit Congressional oversight of the "Alligator Alcatraz" and warehouse facilities. Write to your representatives to demand that these sites be open to independent human rights inspections with open access for media and legal counsel.

Audit Your Language:

Refuse to use the dehumanizing labels of the 1942 or 2026 rhetoric. When the news speaks of "ruthless offenders" in mass detention, demand for the human story behind the labels. These terminology tactics only work when we stop acknowledging the person behind them.

"Relocation Center" (1942 term) vs. "National Security Warehouse" (2026 term)

• The Subtext: These terms frame a prison or detention site as a logistical necessity. By using "warehouse," the language suggests the storage of objects rather than the incarceration of human beings.

"Non-alien"  (1942 term) vs. "Ruthless Offender" (2026 term)

• The Subtext: This terminology strips individuals of their humanity or citizenship status. It replaces personal identity with a label of inherent danger or "otherness" to justify harsh treatment.

"Evacuation" (1942 term) vs. "Massive Removals" (2026 term)

• The Subtext: This phrasing implies that the forced movement of people is either for their own protection or for the benefit of a "cleaner" society, masking the trauma of displacement.

"Assembly Center" (1942 term) vs. "Processing Hub" (2026 term)

• The Subtext: This clinical, industrial language is designed to obscure the grim reality of the living conditions—such as families being forced to stay in horse stalls, tents, or repurposed industrial spaces.

Visit the Site:

If you can, go to Manzanar. Walk the perimeter. Feel the wind. It is much harder to ignore the expansion of modern camps once you have stood in the footprint of the old ones.

** Signage and exhibits at Manzanar National Historic Site have been subjected to review and potential removal under a 2025 federal directive targeting content deemed to disparage U.S. history. In an effort to do my part in preserving history, below are the exhibit signs from the Manzanar National Historic Site taken during my visit in July, 2024, in no particular order.

(click images to expand for easier reading)