Even Fake Diary Entries Are Good For You

[imood mood at time of entry: fine]

I started to write about my brother’s essay earlier at school and got down to the part where I was going to transcribe it. The computer blinked and went back a page. I was pissed since I had typed up about three paragraphs explaining the whole deal and praising his work. Since I was in my school’s library I only said “Fuck!” three times. I did wonderful! Yah! *lol*

Anyway, I have been wanting to post these fake entries that I wrote for my U.S. History class in here forever, but couldn’t. At first, it was because my teacher didn’t give them back, and then the last couple of days I have been too busy reading to type it all up. Well, I got it done tonight though. I also transcribed my brother’s essay. I will post that tomorrow (Friday, February 20, 2004).

We were dealing with World War II (We are about to move into the Cold War.) and were focusing on the internment of the Japanese-Americans that day. We had to write three diary entries about four or five sentences in length for each entry telling what it was like to be an American-born Japanese teenager. I think I did a fairly good job. I tingle and get hot and feel proud when I read the entries. At least I get that weird feeling do to the content and the wording. I worked sort of hard on it since I wanted to make a good impression on my teacher and to demonstrate my diary writing skills.

As for today at school, it was OK. Not very bad at all. I saw my friends and talked a bit. My favorite sub got replaced as she simply couldn’t take the crap anymore. My regular Chemistry teacher is out on maternity leave and she (the sub) was there to watch/teach the classes. They ran this poor woman into the ground. It wasn’t just the students either, the other permanent teachers had a hand in it also, as well as the rest of the staff. Anyway, now I am going to have to find a new place to go during second lunch since she used to let me hang out there and surf the Internet. Darn!

We saw a movie in Speech today and we have a paper due next week. We only got to see part of it though, and will see the rest next week. We have to talk about how the movie made us feel. It is called The Lynching of 1921: A Hidden Story. It’s all about the Tulsa Race Riot in the early 1900s.

I also got my new beta fish and I named it Spike 2 in honor of its predecessor, Spike. It helps that my new beta looks exactly like Spike the First and was quite spunky at the store. I just hope that he makes it.

I would to go on, but this entry is getting long. Below are the diary entries. Enjoy.

Danielle

Dear Diary,

I’m scared and don’t quite know what to do. Orders came down from Washington telling us all to leave our homes. All people of Japanese ancestry are to be relocated because the too-big-trouser-wearing men don’t trust us anymore. None of the “true” Americans do. But I am an American. By their own law, I am an American. Never have written word been so meaningless.

I can only take one suitcase. I will be sure to take you Diary, for I will need you most in the darkness that is to come.

February 23, 1942

Dear Diary,

I am on the train now. It pulled out of the station to the mournful and silent sorrow of those leaving and the proud cheers of those who came to bid us a most unloving farewell.

I saw this one girl on the way to the station standing on the sidewalk hand-in-hand with her daddy. She was all pig tails and Mary Janes and the American princess with her shining gold hair. As beautiful as some would say she was, she looked more like an abandoned puppy as tears streamed down her ivory face. She looked as though she’d lost her best friend. I looked a little past her, and indeed she had. She watched a sullen Japanese girl, her proud mother and father and two brothers pile into their car. The worse part about it was that the girl’s father smiled to see them go.

February 25, 1942

Dear Diary,

I’ve been here a day now and I don’t know if I can do it. Our assigned area couldn’t comfortably house a fly, let lone me, my mom and dad, and my three sisters. The whole deal would be easier to endure if Mindy were here. Or even Linda. At least Kioka and her brothers are here to keep me company. But I fear that though they are here, this will a long and lonely time for me. I can only hope that someone above is merciful and gives me and my family strength, for we will need it in great abundance here.