My Only Crime Is My Face

LangeI used to tell myself in the camp that my only crime was my face. But now, when I look in the mirror, I remember what a friend once said: “When I first met you, Mary, I just couldn’t get over the novelty of your Japanese face. Strange that an American like you should look like that. First it was ninety percent strangeness and novelty and maybe ten percent friendly interest. About the second time I saw you, it was fifty percent novelty and fifty percent friendliness. Now I being to notice less what you look like and to know more what you really are. Pretty soon I’ll forget what you look like altogether. I’ll know you only as another fellow American.” (Mary Oyama)

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