Charting Revival Through Basketball
by David Chen

photo from New York Times

New York Times
November 5, 2001

The bathhouses and historic houses are distant memories, swallowed by parking lots and city buildings. The Far East Cafe has yet to disappear, but only because no one else has moved into an empty storefront with its forlorn red neon sign.

Little Tokyo was once the crown jewel of an archipelago of Japantowns on the West Coast, covering perhaps one square mile and home to 30,000 inhabitants. But since the internment of Japanese-Americans in World War II, the district has declined to become just a miniature collection of tourist-dependent restaurants and gift shops.

Now, in what may be the area's last hope for revival, community leaders are banking on a popular local pastime that is far more American than Japanese: basketball. For decades, organized basketball has been wildly popular among Japanese-Americans in Southern California, where perhaps 14,000 adults and children play on hundreds of teams in weekend leagues.

But almost all of them do so not in downtown Los Angeles, but in suburbs like Gardena, Torrance or Cerritos. So this summer, after years of pleas from Japanese-American leaders, the City Council endorsed a $9 million, six-court recreation center to bring an urban sport back to the urban core. Last month, community leaders submitted design and financing plans to the Council, and now await approval to get started.

"We need a place for all generations of people," said Bill Watanabe, executive director of the Little Tokyo Service Center, a nonprofit group that has been a vocal supporter of the gym. "If we miss that, and we miss a whole generation of people who don't connect to Little Tokyo, then we will lose them forever, and Little Tokyo will just become a facade or a shell of what it used to be."

Critics of the gym say the area would be better served by something that is more culturally substantial. Still, supporters say the gym could become an economic and recreational anchor, as well as symbolically contribute to the preservation of all the Japantowns in America. Once, there were more than 40 Japantowns in American cities, predominantly on the West Coast. But most were decimated first by the internment camps, then by the rapid suburbanization of the Japanese- American population.

Today, there are only three historic Japantowns remaining, in Los Angeles, San Francisco and San Jose. To help preserve them, Gov. Gray Davis signed legislation this fall committing $150,000 to preserve culturally historic neighborhoods. But some community leaders worry that those plans may translate into little tangible gain.

Enter basketball. Even though the Japanese-American leagues began decades ago because of discrimination, they endured because of the tradition, the friendships and, several parents said, the fact that their children are not as tall as their peers. But gym space is hard to find, particularly in the winter, when schools have first dibs. In Little Tokyo, which these days has only 1,500 residents, most of whom are senior citizens, it is easy to find hearty support for the gym. More people means more business, and more people eating at more restaurants.

The same sentiment prevails in the suburban basketball leagues. On a recent weekend at some games in Gardena, Scott and Jan Kajiya, from Manhattan Beach, were watching their 7-year-old son, Enzo, play with his Quiksilver team. Mr. Kajiya grew up playing in a Japanese-American league, and now he sometimes runs into people that he played ball with as a teenager. Because basketball is so family- centered, he believes that a gym in Little Tokyo could serve as a bond.

"Once we became involved, I saw how it was such a great vehicle that is bringing the Japanese-American community together," said Mr. Kajiya, 48. "So I support any gym or any place for people to gather."

Others, though, say they doubt the local government can get it done, or get it done right. They say the gym would be too little, too late. "I understand what they're trying to do," said George Wada, an aerospace engineer. "But I can't see that that is going to be the savior."

The enthusiasm has been tempered, too, by the lukewarm response from several local institutions. Mr. Watanabe, for example, has occasionally been disappointed with places like the Japanese American National Museum and the Museum of Contemporary Art.

At one point, he and other gym supporters scolded the museums for suggesting that the area would be better served by a quiet park and not a noisy group of sweaty basketball players.But since the plans for the gym were unveiled, Mr. Watanabe has heard generally positive responses, and only generic complaints about traffic, noise and security.

"I don't know if it promotes the continuation of Japanese-American culture or Japanese-American values," said Chris Aihara, director of community relations for the Japanese American Cultural and Community Center. "But if we can bring them in for basketball, we may be able to sell them on all the other parts."