By Lorene Oikawa, Past President
The month of May is a special month for Japanese Canadians to celebrate our mothers, grandmothers, aunts, and everyone in a mother-like role. In May, we celebrate Asian Heritage Month and Mother’s Day. We also remember our mothers who are no longer with us and our ancestors. Their courage and determination set up what we enjoy today and for future generations.
For the early settlers, the women took on a tremendous workload.
In Phantom Immigrants, Jiro Nitta wrote about Jinzaburo Oikawa’s wife Uino who he brought to Canada in 1898 when he was building his business and community. “Sometimes, in moments of melancholy, Uino thought that the only reason Jinsaburo [Jinzaburo] brought her to Canada was to cook for these thirty men. She was a proud woman, however, and her husband was”boss” and “master” to everyone ein the colony so it was her responsibility to uphold his reputation; she silently accepted her fate. Besides she could not imagine the men cooking for themselves while there were women around. Uino and Yaeno were responsible for meals from the first day they arrived.”
I met Audrey Clark at a NAJC regional conference in April 2026 and discovered we had an Oikawa connection. She is a descendant of Kimpei Goto who was one of passengers on the 196 ton sailing ship, Suian Maru in 1906, when Jinzaburo Oikawa brought 82 more settlers from Japan to the colony on Oikawa and Sato Islands near Annacis Island in the Fraser River.
Audrey shared memories of her mother, Yoneko May Goto. “When older brothers and I started driving, our mother would always say “Drive safe and call when you get there”. My thought was “how else would I drive” which of course I never voiced aloud. Now that I have adult children, I find myself saying the same thing as my mother. Miss her!”
I also had a chance to connect with Karen Koyanagi Geiger. She shared her memories of her grandmother. “My Grandma Tsuneko (Ann) Koyanagi was a guiding influence in my life. She tended a large garden that helped feed her eight children and many grandchildren. She canned, froze, and pickled, always making sure there was enough for everyone.
She was an incredible cook and baker—we were often greeted with fresh blueberry muffins straight from the oven, and she never let us leave without extras to take home.
Grandma showed her love in simple, lasting ways—through her hands, her care, and her quiet generosity. That kind of love stays with you, and I carry it with me every day.”
I’ve written previous articles about my Obaachan and my mom, Mae (née Doi) Oikawa, and food memories of inari sushi (seasoned rice in tofu pockets), and udon and chow mein made with noodles made by my grandmother. It was obaachan’s chow mein, but many refer to it as Cumberland chow mein.
My friend John Ota has explored famous dining rooms around the world and written about them in his book, The Dining Room. He also shares a memory about his mother and family where they not only ate meals and had conversations in the dining room, but also did homework. “We did not have a lot of money, but food was plentiful and dinners in ths room were always lively when, every evening at 6 p.m., my mom called out in her sergeant-major voice, “Dinner! Come to the table! Now!” Those were the magic words that my dad, two brothers, grandmother, and I-and the occasional boarder-had been waiting for all day. …we followed the aroma of soy sauce, honey, and green onion from salmon teriyaki and the pure essence of steamed white rice to the dining room.”
Food was not always plentiful for our mothers and grandmothers. They were sometimes in survival mode, doing the best they could for their children.
My mom’s cousin, Katsukuni Tanaka, was a 20 month-old baby at home in Hiroshima with his mother on August 6, 1945 at 8:15 a.m. The atomic bomb fell and destroyed the city. Their home, near Hiroshima Station, about 1.8 kilometres from ground zero, was flattened. His mom, Kimie, held on to Katsukuni, and walked 20 kilometres, east through the rubble to Kaita to get him to a safer location.
In 1942, Japanese Canadian women and their families were forcibly uprooted, dispossessed, incarcerated and exiled until 1949. This was a racist act by their own Canadian government who knew there wasn’t any evidence of wrongdoing, confirmed by the RCMP and Canadian military.
Japanese Canadians, mostly from outside of Metro Vancouver were first placed in Hastings Park before being shipped out to incarceration sites in the interior of BC or to slave at sugar beet farms in the prairies.
Mary Ohara was forced into taking a mother-like role at Hastings Park. “While we were at Hastings Park, I got the mumps so was quarantined with the other children who also had the mumps. We were put underground, under the barn where everyone was living. It was the place where the animal feed and coal was usually kept. It was like a dungeon – no windows, just the opening above us. They just pushed the coal and animal feed to one side and put beds in there for us. We had to stay there for 90 days. People would bring us meals. I was 12 years old, the older one, so I had to take care of the others. Some were only three or four years old and they would cry and scream. There were no lights down there. I remember pushing the coal and animal feed aside so I could see outside.” Honouring Our People: Breaking the Silence, Edited by Randy Enomoto.
Tami Hirasawa’s mother was also incarcerated at Hastings Park. “I am so fortunate that I am able to talk to my mother, Joyce Yukiko Hirasawa (née Fujimagari). In 2024, my 5 siblings and I sat down with my 99 year old mother and a box of old photos. She was able to recall so many memories. We asked about her experiences during the war as a Japanese Canadian woman. She remembers stuffing her mattress with straw when she and her siblings walked to Hastings Park in May 1942. “Jean and Annie slept on the bottom bunk and Maggie and I slept on the top bunk in the livestock building section U. My brothers Yosh & Tak who were 12 and 14 ) had to sleep in the boys building”…. In New Denver she says. ”It was so cold…and they weren’t ready for us…we had to sleep in tents until our shack was built”
And in the Sugar Beet Fields of Southern Alberta she recalls “it was back-breaking work… I remember when we arrived at the train station…our family had to stand on the platform while all the farmers looked us over. They wanted a family with strong men to work their fields..” How awful that must have felt. Despite these experiences, as long as I can remember, my mom has had a positive outlook on life.
I realize that being able to talk to my mom is really special. Happy Mother’s Day to all mothers in my family.”
Happy Mother’s Day and Happy Asian Heritage Month!
