We Are Not Strangers Review: On Josh Tuininga’s Graphic Novel of the Japanese American Incarceration and Reflections From an Angeleno on the 2025 Los Angeles Protests

I was in Little Tokyo the Wednesday before the protests. Grabbing a hat at Weller Court, getting a beer at Highland Park Brewery, watching the Dodgers fall to the Mets 6-1 in one of the most lifeless performances I’ve seen by my team in person, everything felt incredibly normal. Days later, the same streets were patrolled by the national guard. In a highly escalatory, un-democratic, and insecure move, President Trump had sent troops into Los Angeles under the pretense of protecting ICE agents who were detaining immigrants. The contrast jarred me. In that surreal week, Josh Tuininga’s graphic novel We Are Not Strangers hit me harder than expected. His comic is both ever relevant and so timely on allyship and the perils of prejudice and in times of fear mongering.

Plot & Story

The location is Seattle, 1987. The narrator prepares for his grandfather’s funeral when he notices some unfamiliar mourners; an old Japanese family has come to pay their respects. Our narrator has never met these folks before, but he’ll come to know that his late grandfather had a tremendous impact on their lives. We flash back to the 1930’s where we see his papoo (Ladino for “grandfather”) Marco Calvo (and the narrator’s namesake), a first-generation Jewish immigrant from the Ottoman Empire, making his way to Seattle, starting a family, and building a life for himself. All the while, he anxiously reads newspaper articles about the discrimination of the Jewish people in Germany and all over Europe.

Marco befriends Sam Akiyama, a Japanese American fisherman and the owner of the Akiyama Fish market over their shared experience as immigrants. When the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, the Japanese Americans of Seattle became targets of scapegoating, discrimination, and ultimately mob escalation and systemic injustice. Throughout the panels, Marco digests the information from newspaper headlines and radio announcements. Josh Tuininga shows how sometimes we’re all captive to news media that seems so much greater than we are. He captures a passive, static processing of information that feels a lot like doom-scrolling through the headlines or videos on our own phones. There’s a scene where Marco and his family first hear of executive order 9066: ordering all Americans born of Japanese ancestry into concentration camps. “Those poor families. They will lose everything,” Marco’s wife says. “They are coming for them. Eez the same with Hitler and the Jews,” Marco’s mother replies.  Marco’s wife urges him to speak to the synagogue or act somehow, yet Marco is split between his conscience and his pragmatic reality of being a good citizen with little power. That year’s Great Sabbath sermon has a particular impact on Marco, as he connects the discrimination of the Israelites, the Jews in Europe, and the Japanese in his own neighborhood.

Between 1942 and 1946, over 120,000 Americans were incarcerated, jailed without trial or due process, simply for being of Japanese ancestry. The Akiyama family is rounded up by US troops and sent to a concentration camp for five years. When they return, Marco greets Sam and the Akiyamas at the family home. Prior to the incarceration, Marco and Sam planned to protect the family property and assets. In Sam’s absence, Marco helped manage the family business and lease out the home to renters. Many other Japanese Americans returned home to nothing and had to start all over again. Marco led a humble quiet life, and the gift of this story and actions is one that he imparts to his own grandson and to all of us. 

Art Style

The art style is reminiscent of print comics with both angular and rounded lines that would be familiar to any reader of comics like Calvin and Hobbes, Family Circus, and Heathcliff. There is an accessibility for all ages in these visuals. I found his artistic style in conversation with the more difficult topics of racism, prejudice, and a shameful chapter in this nation’s history; it seemed like a good intro to young readers into other social justice graphic novels like George Takei’s They Call Us Enemy or John Lewis’s March and Run series. 

Unlike Art Spiegleman’s Maus, which is geared towards more mature high school readers, We Are Not Strangers is a good place to start for young readers learning more about the realities of the world around them as well as readers who want to drill deeper into the history of the Japanese American incarceration and World War II.

Themes and Review

Josh Tuininga’s We Are Not Strangers is a story of intersectionality; of truly seeing our fellow neighbors and reflecting on the shared humanity we have. It’s also a great memoir and tribute to a beloved uncle. Based on a true story, Josh speaks of his uncle - Marco the narrator - whose grandfather had helped a Japanese American family during World War II. It’s the kind of family lore that makes you stand tall with pride. Tuininga draws compelling parallels between the persecution of the Jewish people in Europe and the Japanese Americans in Seattle. He speaks to shared history and experience. One of the greatest strengths of We Are Not Strangers is his attention to historical detail. From the languages - both Japanese and Ladino, to the family life, to the geography of Seattle, we are invited to a textured world that feels extremely lived in. There’s plenty of easter eggs for Seattleite and history buff alike. 

However, most powerful is the inherent message of allyship and questioning systems versus humanity. Marco goes out of his way to protect his friend’s property and material value, because even though it’s difficult, it’s the right thing to do. Just as Marco puts immense labor on himself for his friend’s behalf, make no mistake; there were many who saw great material gain at the expense of mob mentality and fear. In most cases, the Japanese Americans only had a week to sell, lease, or store their property and businesses, pack essentials and possessions. We like to imagine no one took advantage of this — but the historical record shows otherwise. There were clear winners that built their fortunes off this cruelty. 

While Marco goes about things the legal way, he knows that there are times when morality means bending the letter of the law. He sees his countrymen in Europe being swallowed up by their government; it’s hinted that Marco’s own mother was not exactly documented and some of his past business practices (boot-legging) were not legal for the time. I’m reminded of Hank Willis Thomas’ pop art “Love Over Rules”, where often generosity, kindness and compassion runs in direct opposition to the system and “the way things are.”

One area where I wish the story could have been improved was to see greater character development and motivation across the board with Marco and Sam; the story tends to lean on the weight of history which can keep the reader one step removed from the interior lives of the characters. Personal details like Marco’s wife’s name or how he got clever enough to know how to gain power of attorney and act fast on Sam’s behalf would have given us a deeper appreciation for his knowledge and process. I would have liked to see more of Sam’s life in the concentration camp. Details like the name of the camp Sam was incarcerated in and how the Akiyamas’ survived would have enhanced our journey with the characters even more. I could imagine the contrast from the Seattle coast where Sam loved to fish to the dry desert camps. 

My Favorite Scene

In his chapter titled,  “April 20, 1942 - Linc’s Tackle Shop”, Josh utilizes a gloomy Pacific Northwest sky in panel after panel as Marco walks through the Japantown neighborhood which has become a ghost town. The sky weighs heavily on Marco as he ponders the reality and consequences of the anti-immigrant / anti-Japanese hysteria. But suddenly, in one gorgeous splash page, the sky is covered in the pink of the cherry blossom trees overhead - a break in the gray. Even with the people gone, the reminders of their existence remain. Marco goes to the pier where he fished with Sam many times before, only to really feel his friend’s absence.  

Josh Tuininga is an educator and archivist just as much as he is a storyteller. One fact that floored me was the panel that stated only 35% of Americans supported releasing the Japanese Americans AFTER the war was over, even though not a single person was guilty of a crime. It’s heartbreaking to know that there is a small, but strong minority that can easily ignore others humanity or empathy and simply go by their own justifications of pragmatism, lack of nuance, and a surrender to a single-minded myopic thinking on only their own circumstances. 

Target Audience

This is a great graphic novel for lovers of American history and social justice. I would also recommend this to academics who have an interest in the intersection of the Pacific Northwest (Seattle specifically), and the history of immigrants, particularly the Japanese and the Jewish diaspora. It’s extremely informative and features much of Seattle’s geography and many of the headlines and events referenced in the book are cited as true newspaper headlines or recognizable events. 

It’s an accessible book that teaches a message of community, allyship and tolerance, but there may be some racial slurs to be cognizant of for younger readers - even though the dehumanization and pain is true to its time. There’s a scene in the book where a woman (a Karen of her time), points grimly at a blown up sign “Japs Keep Moving, This Is A White Man’s Neighborhood.” That comic panel is based off a real image that had always been seared into my memory. Racists throughout history seemed to have always announced their ignorance on lawn signs with big all- caps.

A Personal Reflection:  Los Angeles, June 2025

I’m a son of Los Angeles, born to immigrants between Beverly Hills and Mid-City. I grew up going to Little Tokyo with my dad and brother. Union Station, Chinatown, Dodger Stadium and Griffith Park are places that feel like home; immigrants are my community. I’ve always seen Barbara Krueger’s mural, (Untitled / Questions), looming on the side of the Geffen MoMA in red, white, and blue, asking: “Who is Beyond The Law?” Alex Greenberger’s article in ArtNews on the piece, put words to a very visceral feeling of violation in having unmarked, ICE agents kidnapping people and then deploying the military to occupy its own people. 

Let’s be clear: the “migrant crisis” is a manufactured emergency, meant to distract from an unqualified and insecure President’s cruel and cynical bill that was passed through Congress. President Trump has violated one American tenet after another (freedom of assembly, protection against unreasonable search and seizure, due process, right to public trial, cruel and unusual punishment, principles of posse comitatus) and is scapegoating undocumented immigrants and exercising extreme cruelty because that is what fearmongers do for personal gain. It’s a time of reflection for me, and deep consideration of what each one of us can do for our community and in support of our persecuted neighbors and friends in our own capacity, whether it’s writing, running, donating, or protesting. 

We Are Not Strangers meant a lot to me for two deep reasons; Josh is a comic book artist, like my brother, Ben Matsuya. With his work, Josh is following the tradition of Ansel Adams, Dorothea Lange, and Toyo Miyatake, as photographers and artists who depicted the Japanese American incarceration for the injustice that it was. One day, perhaps, my brother and I will contribute our own story to the canon of this legacy and my deepest gratitude to artists and storytellers like Josh who serve as inspirations.

Secondly, Josh honors his uncle Marco Calvo, Marco’s Papoo, and his family. In the same way, I want to honor my own dad. I watched him study and become an American citizen. He took his citizenship oath at the Pomona Fairplex, the same grounds that was a temporary assembly center for Japanese Americans on their way to relocation. He invested in raising his sons to understand American history and the history of Japanese immigrants and our adopted American and Nisei legacy. He took us to the Japanese American National Museum off Alameda and First, and we spent many happy days in Little Tokyo. He instilled in us the values of allyship and the story of Chiune Sugihara, the Japanese diplomat who hand-wrote hundreds of visas to help the Jewish people escape Nazi-occupied Europe. We should all be so lucky to have a family legacy expanding freedom, equal rights, and goodness for our friends and neighbors against systemic injustice and the cruelty of a scarcity mindset and mob mentality.
We Are Not Strangers focuses on honoring our communities and families, fighting injustice, and being on the right side of history. You may feel like events are overwhelming and hard to process, but action is doing one thing within your control and reaching out in your own community to do what’s within your power to help a stranger in need. It doesn’t have to be as big as saving someone’s house and property, as long as you do something to allow you to sleep at night and make your family proud of you.

We Are Not Strangers FAQ

• What is We Are Not Strangers About?

The friendship between a Jewish immigrant and a Japanese American during WWII in Seattle, and the impact of discrimination and U.S. incarceration policy.

• Is We Are Not Strangers Appropriate For Young Readers?

Yes. The visual style and educational content is a good introduction to more sensitive topics in American history for young readers. There are some racial slurs in context to their time, but can be used more as a teachable moment.

• How is We Are Not Strangers relevant to current events?

Immigration, political persecution, discrimination, othering and allyship are all aspects that are still relevant to 2025. 

• What other graphic novels are similar to We Are Not Strangers?

They Called Us Enemy written by George Takei, Justin Eisinger, and Steven Scott. Illustrated by Harmony Becker.

We Hereby Refuse: Japanese American Resistence to Wartime Incarceration written by Frank Abe and Tamiko Nimura. Illustrated by Ross Ishikawa and Matt Sasaki.

Maus: A Survivor's Tale written and illustrated by Art Spiegelman.

March Trilogy and Run written by John Lewis with Andrew Aydlin. Art and illustration by Nate Powell and L. Fury.

• Who is Josh Tuininga and what inspired this book?

Josh Tuininga is an author and illustrator who wrote this book inspired by the experience of his own uncle’s grandfather helping a Japanese American family during their relocation and incarceration in Seattle.