AliceHendersonFirstPaper 3 - 23 Apr 2012 - Main.AliceHenderson
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< < | | | | | On February 19, 1942, President Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, sending over 100,000 Japanese-American U.S. citizens to internment camps to wait out the end of World War II. This is a historical fact with which any law student is familiar, but “all concepts that cannot be defined in terms of the elements of actual experience are meaningless.” Felix S. Cohen, “Transcendental Nonsense and the Functional Approach”, 35 Columbia L. Rev. 37 (1935). Here is an element of actual experience: when that legal decision was made, my grandmother was 18 years old, just a few months shy of her high school graduation. The daughter of immigrants but born and raised in Los Angeles, she was escorted with her family by American troops to a camp in Arkansas. They spent the next three years in army barracks, sleeping on mattresses stuffed with hay, and surrounded by armed guards and barbed wire. Allowed only what belongings they could fit into one suitcase, they lost their home and material possessions. What they lost of their dignity took much longer to recover.
Legal Definitions, Social Definitions | |
< < | If, according to Cohen, the meaning of a legal decision is what it does in context, at the intersection of social forces, what is the real meaning of Executive Order 9066, and of Korematsu v. United States 323 U.S. 214 (1944), the challenge to internment that made it to the Supreme Court? The Supreme Court held that the exclusion and confinement of a racial group was subject to strict scrutiny, that “nothing short of apprehension by the proper military authorities of the gravest imminent danger to the public safety can constitutionally justify either” and that the U.S. government had met that high threshold. The military had acted “in accordance with Congressional authority.” Korematsu, 323 U.S. at 218. The Court said, “not my job to question their judgment during a war” and put the constitution in the back of a drawer until safer times. The terms of the reasoning- strict scrutiny, apprehension, gravest imminent danger- are artificial. The decision was circular and political; the law was just a pawn of social forces.
Actually, to be precise,
Korematsu upheld the exclusion order that brought about the removal
of Isei and Nisei citizens from the Pacific Coast. In the companion
case, Ex parte Mitsuye Endo, the Court held that citizens whose
loyalty was conceded or unchallenged by the Government were not
detainable, and were entitled to release. Despite the apparent
constitutional importance of this ruling, however, most detainees
didn't seek release because, having lost their property and
livelihoods as a result of General Witt's exclusion order, they had
nowhere to go.
Aside from the slight misstatement of law, this paragraph seems
unnecessary clotted to me. You don't need to involve yourself with
the interpretation of Felix Cohen's article here. Your point is
simple realism: the Court's cases from Hirabayashi to Korematsu
represented complete deference in fact, but not in theory, to the
militarily-sanctioned removal of Japanese-Americans from the Pacific
Coast, which when done by the other side was to be treated in later
law as a crime against humanity.
| > > | The Supreme Court held in Korematsu that the exclusion and confinement of a racial group, as prescribed under Executive Order 9066, was subject to strict scrutiny, that “nothing short of apprehension by the proper military authorities of the gravest imminent danger to the public safety can constitutionally justify either” and that the U.S. government had met that high threshold. The military had acted “in accordance with Congressional authority.” Korematsu v. United States, 323 U.S. 214, 218 (1944). The Court said, “not my job to question their judgment during a war” and put the constitution in the back of a drawer until safer times. The terms of the reasoning- "rigid scrutiny," "apprehension," "gravest imminent danger"- are artificial. The decision was circular and political; the law was just a pawn of the same social forces that allowed my grandmother's family to return to their home three years later and find another family living in it. | | Function, Or What The Law Has Done | |
< < | The consequences of the legal actions taken by the U.S. government related to Japanese-American internment during World War II are not limited to the protection of the American people against war-time espionage. The consequences are, of course, infinite, but over the span of three generations, one of those consequences is clear. I am here at Columbia Law School because the president put his signature on a piece of paper on that day in 1942. I’m here because the psychological ruin of my grandmother caused by the internment contributed to my mother leaving home, moving to New York, marrying a non-Japanese political activist, and instilling in her daughter an intense sense of civic duty. The privilege I have experienced in my life can be credited to the social safety net that I was born on the right side of- the laws that allowed me to safely go to school, leave the country to study abroad, work in a field of my choosing, interact with people of different backgrounds, and any number of things that serve as stepping stones to the next rung in life. I am grateful, but I don’t take for granted that I will always be a beneficiary of the law. Knowing that my grandmother experienced one of the many times in which, even with honorable intentions, the law was used to strip a people of their rights, I feel compelled to attempt, at least, to make it my responsibility to uphold and protect the laws that protect me. | > > | Legally sanctioned racism casts a long, dark shadow. From the immediate effect of a particular law (internment, as through Executive Order 9066 and Korematsu) to the resultant inequity over the course of time (white supremacy as through the unamended Constitution, Dred Scott, and countless others), the negative consequences can be traced with ease. The positive outcomes of a bad legal decision are more difficult to observe but no less meaningful. The most cynical evaluation of strict scrutiny for race-based classifications established by Korematsu would find the test utterly valueless given that the internment of 110,000 U.S. citizens of a certain racial descent passed muster. However, since the Court’s first articulation (and miscarriage) of this principle of equal protection jurisprudence, strict scrutiny has been wielded effectively to strike down racially discriminatory laws and decisions, including for example a Florida court’s decision to award custody of a child in a divorce case based on the race of the families in Palmore v. Sidoti, and race-based legal restrictions of marriage in Loving v. Virginia. Thanks to our nation’s history of racial discrimination, the Court will now assume racial prejudice unless the State can prove a compelling public interest motive. Palmore v. Sidoti, 466 U.S. 429, 432 (1984). Which came first, the racist human or the racist law? While our history is somewhat of a chicken-or-egg conundrum, we are moving incrementally forward from the tragedies of our past. | | | |
< < | Infinity
In 1988, President Reagan awarded redress payments to Japanese-Americans who had been interned during World War II. It was a nominal sum, but last year, my grandmother gave it to me to put toward law school tuition. She didn’t articulate her intention, and she didn’t need to. She endowed me not with a gift, but with a reminder of her trauma to carry with me in my studies and in my work. In doing so, that government check is more than just the inadequate reparation for a time when this country fell short of its founding ideals of justice and equality; it is an investment in the struggle toward those ideals– in my struggle. I came to Columbia with the belief that the opportunity to study law here would be the opportunity to accrue the experiences and knowledge to prevent current and future miscarriages of justice evident in my grandmother’s story, but I wonder if my affect will be a drop in the ocean. Korematsu was never overturned; it sits on the books along with many other laws constructed of transcendental nonsense. My little arrow on the continued evaluation of consequences could take any number of directions to bring Korematsu to a positive result. | > > | Function Part II, Or I Am a Consequence
I am here at Columbia Law School because of one of those tragedies. I'm here because the psychological ruin of my grandmother caused by the internment contributed to my mother leaving home, moving to New York, marrying a non-Japanese political activist, and instilling in her daughter an intense sense of civic duty. The privilege I have experienced in my life can be credited to the social safety net that I was born on the right side of- the laws that allowed me to safely go to school, leave the country to study abroad, work in a field of my choosing, interact with people of different backgrounds, and any number of things that serve as stepping stones to the next rung in life. I am grateful, but I don't take for granted that I will always be a beneficiary of the law. Knowing that my grandmother experienced one of the many times in which, even with honorable intentions, the law was used to strip a people of their rights, I feel compelled to attempt, at least, to make it my responsibility to uphold and protect the laws that protect me. | | | |
< < | It might be worth a
little consideration that the principle of strict scrutiny that
Korematsu announced has taken root at the center of equal
protection jurisprudence as a form of review "strict in theory and
fatal in fact," which has done much work on the side of racial and
social justice in the subsequent seventy years. It might also be
worth considering that this happened largely under the judicial
supervision of a Chief Justice whose sterling record of public
service was severely blotted by his political alliances with white
supremacy in California, including his support, as California's
wartime governor, of the forced relocation of Japanese-Americans.
"Consequences" come in many forms.
This is a very strong draft. The revisions I think must be made are
at least indicated in my comments. Beyond those, I do not think that
there are fundamental problems to address. But with more concise
presentation, room could be made to consider further the social
consequences of this disastrous surrender to racism, including
developments in the US after 2001.
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> > | Infinity
In 1988, President Reagan awarded redress payments to Japanese-Americans who had been interned during World War II. It was a nominal sum, but last year, my grandmother gave it to me to put toward law school tuition. She didn’t articulate her intention, and she didn’t need to. She endowed me not with a gift, but with a reminder of her trauma to carry with me in my studies and in my work. In doing so, that government check is more than just the inadequate reparation for a time when this country fell short of its founding ideals of justice and equality; it is an investment in the struggle toward those ideals– in my struggle. I came to Columbia with the belief that the opportunity to study law here would be the opportunity to accrue the experiences and knowledge to prevent current and future miscarriages of justice evident in my grandmother’s story, but I wonder if my affect will be a drop in the ocean. Korematsu was never overturned; it sits on the books along with many other laws constructed of transcendental nonsense. My little arrow on the continued evaluation of consequences could take any number of directions to bring Korematsu to another positive result. |
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AliceHendersonFirstPaper 2 - 11 Apr 2012 - Main.IanSullivan
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META TOPICPARENT | name="FirstPaper" |
| | Legal Definitions, Social Definitions
If, according to Cohen, the meaning of a legal decision is what it does in context, at the intersection of social forces, what is the real meaning of Executive Order 9066, and of Korematsu v. United States 323 U.S. 214 (1944), the challenge to internment that made it to the Supreme Court? The Supreme Court held that the exclusion and confinement of a racial group was subject to strict scrutiny, that “nothing short of apprehension by the proper military authorities of the gravest imminent danger to the public safety can constitutionally justify either” and that the U.S. government had met that high threshold. The military had acted “in accordance with Congressional authority.” Korematsu, 323 U.S. at 218. The Court said, “not my job to question their judgment during a war” and put the constitution in the back of a drawer until safer times. The terms of the reasoning- strict scrutiny, apprehension, gravest imminent danger- are artificial. The decision was circular and political; the law was just a pawn of social forces. | |
> > | Actually, to be precise,
Korematsu upheld the exclusion order that brought about the removal
of Isei and Nisei citizens from the Pacific Coast. In the companion
case, Ex parte Mitsuye Endo, the Court held that citizens whose
loyalty was conceded or unchallenged by the Government were not
detainable, and were entitled to release. Despite the apparent
constitutional importance of this ruling, however, most detainees
didn't seek release because, having lost their property and
livelihoods as a result of General Witt's exclusion order, they had
nowhere to go.
Aside from the slight misstatement of law, this paragraph seems
unnecessary clotted to me. You don't need to involve yourself with
the interpretation of Felix Cohen's article here. Your point is
simple realism: the Court's cases from Hirabayashi to Korematsu
represented complete deference in fact, but not in theory, to the
militarily-sanctioned removal of Japanese-Americans from the Pacific
Coast, which when done by the other side was to be treated in later
law as a crime against humanity.
| | Function, Or What The Law Has Done
The consequences of the legal actions taken by the U.S. government related to Japanese-American internment during World War II are not limited to the protection of the American people against war-time espionage. The consequences are, of course, infinite, but over the span of three generations, one of those consequences is clear. I am here at Columbia Law School because the president put his signature on a piece of paper on that day in 1942. I’m here because the psychological ruin of my grandmother caused by the internment contributed to my mother leaving home, moving to New York, marrying a non-Japanese political activist, and instilling in her daughter an intense sense of civic duty. The privilege I have experienced in my life can be credited to the social safety net that I was born on the right side of- the laws that allowed me to safely go to school, leave the country to study abroad, work in a field of my choosing, interact with people of different backgrounds, and any number of things that serve as stepping stones to the next rung in life. I am grateful, but I don’t take for granted that I will always be a beneficiary of the law. Knowing that my grandmother experienced one of the many times in which, even with honorable intentions, the law was used to strip a people of their rights, I feel compelled to attempt, at least, to make it my responsibility to uphold and protect the laws that protect me.
Infinity
In 1988, President Reagan awarded redress payments to Japanese-Americans who had been interned during World War II. It was a nominal sum, but last year, my grandmother gave it to me to put toward law school tuition. She didn’t articulate her intention, and she didn’t need to. She endowed me not with a gift, but with a reminder of her trauma to carry with me in my studies and in my work. In doing so, that government check is more than just the inadequate reparation for a time when this country fell short of its founding ideals of justice and equality; it is an investment in the struggle toward those ideals– in my struggle. I came to Columbia with the belief that the opportunity to study law here would be the opportunity to accrue the experiences and knowledge to prevent current and future miscarriages of justice evident in my grandmother’s story, but I wonder if my affect will be a drop in the ocean. Korematsu was never overturned; it sits on the books along with many other laws constructed of transcendental nonsense. My little arrow on the continued evaluation of consequences could take any number of directions to bring Korematsu to a positive result. | |
< < |
You are entitled to restrict access to your paper if you want to. But we all derive immense benefit from reading one another's work, and I hope you won't feel the need unless the subject matter is personal and its disclosure would be harmful or undesirable.
To restrict access to your paper simply delete the "#" character on the next two lines:
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> > | It might be worth a
little consideration that the principle of strict scrutiny that
Korematsu announced has taken root at the center of equal
protection jurisprudence as a form of review "strict in theory and
fatal in fact," which has done much work on the side of racial and
social justice in the subsequent seventy years. It might also be
worth considering that this happened largely under the judicial
supervision of a Chief Justice whose sterling record of public
service was severely blotted by his political alliances with white
supremacy in California, including his support, as California's
wartime governor, of the forced relocation of Japanese-Americans.
"Consequences" come in many forms.
This is a very strong draft. The revisions I think must be made are
at least indicated in my comments. Beyond those, I do not think that
there are fundamental problems to address. But with more concise
presentation, room could be made to consider further the social
consequences of this disastrous surrender to racism, including
developments in the US after 2001.
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AliceHendersonFirstPaper 1 - 16 Feb 2012 - Main.AliceHenderson
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META TOPICPARENT | name="FirstPaper" |
Transcendental Nonsense and the Functional Approach: What the Law Did to Japanese-Americans During WWII
-- By AliceHenderson - 16 Feb 2012
A Personal History
On February 19, 1942, President Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, sending over 100,000 Japanese-American U.S. citizens to internment camps to wait out the end of World War II. This is a historical fact with which any law student is familiar, but “all concepts that cannot be defined in terms of the elements of actual experience are meaningless.” Felix S. Cohen, “Transcendental Nonsense and the Functional Approach”, 35 Columbia L. Rev. 37 (1935). Here is an element of actual experience: when that legal decision was made, my grandmother was 18 years old, just a few months shy of her high school graduation. The daughter of immigrants but born and raised in Los Angeles, she was escorted with her family by American troops to a camp in Arkansas. They spent the next three years in army barracks, sleeping on mattresses stuffed with hay, and surrounded by armed guards and barbed wire. Allowed only what belongings they could fit into one suitcase, they lost their home and material possessions. What they lost of their dignity took much longer to recover.
Legal Definitions, Social Definitions
If, according to Cohen, the meaning of a legal decision is what it does in context, at the intersection of social forces, what is the real meaning of Executive Order 9066, and of Korematsu v. United States 323 U.S. 214 (1944), the challenge to internment that made it to the Supreme Court? The Supreme Court held that the exclusion and confinement of a racial group was subject to strict scrutiny, that “nothing short of apprehension by the proper military authorities of the gravest imminent danger to the public safety can constitutionally justify either” and that the U.S. government had met that high threshold. The military had acted “in accordance with Congressional authority.” Korematsu, 323 U.S. at 218. The Court said, “not my job to question their judgment during a war” and put the constitution in the back of a drawer until safer times. The terms of the reasoning- strict scrutiny, apprehension, gravest imminent danger- are artificial. The decision was circular and political; the law was just a pawn of social forces.
Function, Or What The Law Has Done
The consequences of the legal actions taken by the U.S. government related to Japanese-American internment during World War II are not limited to the protection of the American people against war-time espionage. The consequences are, of course, infinite, but over the span of three generations, one of those consequences is clear. I am here at Columbia Law School because the president put his signature on a piece of paper on that day in 1942. I’m here because the psychological ruin of my grandmother caused by the internment contributed to my mother leaving home, moving to New York, marrying a non-Japanese political activist, and instilling in her daughter an intense sense of civic duty. The privilege I have experienced in my life can be credited to the social safety net that I was born on the right side of- the laws that allowed me to safely go to school, leave the country to study abroad, work in a field of my choosing, interact with people of different backgrounds, and any number of things that serve as stepping stones to the next rung in life. I am grateful, but I don’t take for granted that I will always be a beneficiary of the law. Knowing that my grandmother experienced one of the many times in which, even with honorable intentions, the law was used to strip a people of their rights, I feel compelled to attempt, at least, to make it my responsibility to uphold and protect the laws that protect me.
Infinity
In 1988, President Reagan awarded redress payments to Japanese-Americans who had been interned during World War II. It was a nominal sum, but last year, my grandmother gave it to me to put toward law school tuition. She didn’t articulate her intention, and she didn’t need to. She endowed me not with a gift, but with a reminder of her trauma to carry with me in my studies and in my work. In doing so, that government check is more than just the inadequate reparation for a time when this country fell short of its founding ideals of justice and equality; it is an investment in the struggle toward those ideals– in my struggle. I came to Columbia with the belief that the opportunity to study law here would be the opportunity to accrue the experiences and knowledge to prevent current and future miscarriages of justice evident in my grandmother’s story, but I wonder if my affect will be a drop in the ocean. Korematsu was never overturned; it sits on the books along with many other laws constructed of transcendental nonsense. My little arrow on the continued evaluation of consequences could take any number of directions to bring Korematsu to a positive result.
You are entitled to restrict access to your paper if you want to. But we all derive immense benefit from reading one another's work, and I hope you won't feel the need unless the subject matter is personal and its disclosure would be harmful or undesirable.
To restrict access to your paper simply delete the "#" character on the next two lines:
Note: TWiki has strict formatting rules for preference declarations. Make sure you preserve the three spaces, asterisk, and extra space at the beginning of these lines. If you wish to give access to any other users simply add them to the comma separated ALLOWTOPICVIEW list. |
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