It’s the time of year when people throughout the city can start anticipating the gift of beautiful, sunny days and warmer temperatures that remind them they’ve survived another Seattle Freeze. Spring also means folks spending time — sometimes a whole weekend — traveling to Seattle for a chance to see the cherry blossom trees bloom in all glorious shades of pink amongst the evergreen scenery the Emerald City is hailed for. Although these trees offer a reminder that spring is finally here, they also have a deeper and more complicated connection to our city.
The early 20th century marked the first cherry blossoms’ appearance in Washington state when in 1909, Seattle served as the midpoint in the passage for 2,000 cherry blossom trees that were donated by the Japanese government and set for Washington, D.C. While the first batch of trees ended up plagued by insect infection, forcing them to be burned, it didn’t deter the U.S’s desire to plant more of the trees throughout the country. The trees signified the growing connection between Seattle and Japan, which grew when, in 1923, Seattle residents and the Japanese-American Society of Seattle provided aid to those affected by a catastrophic earthquake in Japan. Later, 3,020 cherry blossom trees were planted in Washington D.C., and in 1929, Seattle was gifted 3,500 trees.
Soon after, cherry blossom trees started to grace both the streets of Seattle and the greater region. Residents of many neighborhoods are gifted with the sight of these trees right outside their homes. They vary in size, from ones that seem to be experiencing their first bloom to others that reach the roofs of houses. Paul Maybee, a Capitol Hill resident of 25 years, describes the trees as beautiful despite not having a deep connection with the four blossoming ones that stand in front of his door.
For others who don’t have a cherry tree settled next to their house, the opportunity to walk beneath them is enough. Stan Friedlander, born and raised in Seattle, lived in Japan for two years, and his time there built his understanding of why these trees are so important.
“Almost all holidays in Japan are tied to nature in some way, which is a little different from how we are. [For] many gardens that exist in Japan, the cost to enter is free. It’s not to say that Americans don’t care about their national parks and nature, but it is a little different when you notice that this means everything to that culture,” Friedlander said. “I appreciate them more so that [I] somewhat took them for granted. It became much more about walking through gardens and paying attention to things along the way even if I’m not a gardener myself. [The trees] are giving back to the community and culture.”
The city also views them as a symbol of international friendship with Japan. Over the years, many festivities Seattleites still look forward to today were established, like the Seattle Cherry Blossom Tree and Japanese Cultural Festival, which in 2024 celebrates its 49th year, and the U-District Cherry Blossom Festival that focuses on the trees at the University of Washington (UW).
The large and arching cherry blossom trees scattered across UW have become a staple on campus. Daniel McAvoy, a UW freshman, says while all the visitors the cherry blossoms bring can make the campus quite busy, he enjoys the chaos. For others, like Jasmine Rojero, the blossoms were part of the appeal of wanting to attend UW, as they bring her back to the childhood memory of her family coming to the campus every year to take in the flowering trees. Rojero remembers commuting all the way from Federal Way to take photos with the cherry blossom trees to commemorate her quinceañera.
“The cherry blossoms are really pretty, the university itself is really pretty and it goes with my dress,” Rojero said, pointing to her dress. “We’ve been coming here to take photos since I was really little even though I’m allergic to the blossoms, but they’re so pretty.”
Rojero fights through her allergies as she leans against the trees and poses for photos. But UW gardener Chris Holmer says people climbing, sitting or leaning on trees can severely damage their delicate branches. In fact, just across from where Rojero stands is a sign asking people not to climb the trees. Caring for the university’s cherry blossom trees is an all-season job for Holmer. He explains it takes a whole year to remove the dead wood through multiple rounds of pruning to ensure the trees successfully bloom in spring.
The trees are delicate. There have been recent reports of cherry blossoms suffering from the effects of climate change, causing the trees to be more susceptible to cold snaps and rising heat temperatures. However, in the 24 years he’s been a gardener for UW, Holmer says he’s only seen three of the campus’ trees removed due to brown rot, a fungus that can be quite destructive. Instead, Holmer attributes most of the damage to the rise in spectators.
“You have thousands more people coming in here, and you have thousands more people walking around the base of these trees than you did 15 or 20 years ago,” Holmer said. “If you walk around the base of these trees, you’ll see that it’s really hard and compacted soil, because thousands of people walk on it. That’s a big problem, [maybe] as big as climate change, [because] these trees are getting too much love and people are getting too close to them.”
Holmer doesn’t believe people should be barred from seeing and interacting with the trees, but he said there needs to be more public awareness about how to respectfully interact with these 85-year-old trees.
Seattle’s cherry blossom trees have been revered as a symbol of the city’s friendly relations with Japan, but the flower-filled branches cast a shadow upon Seattle’s complicated history with its Japanese American residents. Discriminatory federal laws, commonly referenced as Alien Land Laws, were quickly adopted in the late 19th and early 20th century by Western states, barring Japanese immigrants from becoming naturalized citizens, prohibiting them from owning or leasing properties, and ultimately resulted in the expulsion and incarceration of Japanese Americans. By the 1940s, 12,892 Japanese Americans lived in Washington, with King County accounting for 9,600 people. In 1942, President Franklin Roosevelt signed into law Executive Order 9066, which was responsible for forcing all people of Japanese descent into concentration camps; the primary camp in Washington was located in Puyallup, on and around what is now the Washington State Fairgrounds.
It wasn’t until 1946 that Japanese Americans were granted permission from the federal government to return to their neighborhoods, which they has been brutally removed from. Denshō is an organization that documents the stories and lived experiences of Japanese Americans who were incarcerated during the war as a reminder that what took place during that time is still very recent. Nina Wallace, media and outreach manager for Denshō, says community festivities that incorporate the cultural connection of the cherry blossom trees allow Seattleites the opportunity to reflect on and reconcile with our history.
“For Japanese people, culturally, cherry blossom trees are a big deal. If you go to Japan, they will have a whole blossom tree forecast for when it’s about to peak. They definitely hold a very special place for people with Japanese heritage, and the fact that they’re still here is a nice symbol. But we’re also still here,” Wallace said.
Wallace pointed out the importance of revisiting these conversations is to understand and not repeat our mistakes.
“We should still be talking about this today because it’s not fully in the past. Japanese Americans aren’t necessarily being targeted today, but we see a lot of the same pattern of targeting communities of color and immigrants.”
As the last petals of the Emerald City cherry blossoms wilt away, signifying changing of seasons, the trees also serve as a reminder to look into our roots and recognize our complicity in the trauma this city inflicted — and perhaps a chance for new beginnings to bud.
Marian Mohamed is the associate editor of Real Change. She oversees our weekly features. Contact her at [email protected].
Read more of the April 10–16, 2024 issue.