Professor Phil Tajitsu Nash, AAST Lecturer

I have over four decades of memories of Franklin, going back to my earliest days as a teacher of Asian American History and using Roots, a book that he co-edited in 1971, as one of my textbooks. Looking back on those days, I realize even more how visionary he was to create teaching materials and syllabi and other tools that the rest of us could use as we built Asian American Studies at schools all over the country.

Going beyond materials, however, Franklin had the charisma and infectious smile and generosity of spirit that drew everyone to him as he became the Johnny Appleseed of Asian American Studies. He had the credentials to make a career for himself at a prestigious private school, but he chose to work at many public and private universities with the children of all classes so that Ethnic Studies and cultural competence would be available to everyone, not just a few elites.

As I worked with Franklin over the decades on big and small projects at the Smithsonian, at the University of Maryland Asian American Studies Program (AAST), and in conferences and Day of Remembrance ceremonies and so much else, I realized that he was still the kid from Hawai’I who had taken the best of the “aloha” spirit and used it as a shield against the hazing and credentialism and elitism that was (and is) prevalent in universities and other settings where privilege rules the day. He had internalized the lessons of the 1960s civil rights movement and lived its idealism every day, despite the contradictions he confronted as he sought to break down barriers and build new institutions based on compassion and fairness. 

Here at AAST, Franklin was not only a popular professor for his own classes, but he made sure to reach out and enrich the lives of his students and colleagues. His suggestions of books, his offers to make personal connections, and his advice about careers and strategies were made to all who needed them, elevating our program and every one of us in it.

At the Smithsonian, I was privileged to work with Franklin on many programs and exhibitions. Whether it was the heartbreaking photographs of Filipino American workers, the controversial “A More Perfect Union” exhibition on the Japanese American internment, or the rich tapestry of Hawai’ian life in the homage to the “Mixed Plate” lunch tradition, Franklin brought a sense of history, a sense of humor, and the ability to push back against entrenched interests just enough to let the rest of us express our creativity and share our perspectives.

Franklin also used his power and privilege to elevate the rest of us in important ways, as he did when he had me appointed as a Curator at the Smithsonian for the Asian Pacific American Program at the 2010 Smithsonian Folklife Festival. I had been teaching Asian American History for 26 years by that time, but I had no idea how to curate a program on that scale: ten days of programs on the National Mall and online. Luckily, Franklin knew all of the people to talk to, the arcane processes to follow, and the bridges to build to make the program successful.

I was deeply moved by the irony that Franklin ended his career as a John J. McCloy Visiting Professor at Amherst College, because McCloy was one of the architects of the Japanese American incarceration during World War II and Amherst is one of the most elite private universities in America. Franklin had not only brought Asian American Studies into this bastion of privilege, but he had used the legacy endowment of one of the most rabid anti-Japanese American voices in FDR’s administration to fund it. And on top of that, as the recent Facebook post of one grieving Chinese American Amherst student made clear, the arc of history will continue to bend toward justice long after he is gone, because his message of hope, empowerment and social concern continued to resonate with his students right up to the end.

RIP, Franklin, and thanks for all you shared with us all these years.

Professor Rossina Zamora Liu, AAST Affiliate Faculty

I remember Franklin's kindness and his wisdom and his badass activism. I remember him teaching me about Affirmative Action and Black-Asian solidarity and coalition, and why Asian American and ethnic studies mattered. I remember him telling us stories about him and the Black Panthers. I remember thinking, when I grow up, I want to be just like him.

I remember Franklin with all my love and gratitude. He was my mentor at the Smithsonian, and one of the first Asian American teacher-mentors I truly looked up to. He instilled in me a love for archives and the Library of Congress. In those spaces, I held letters and photos of early Asian American immigrants, of farm workers, and shop owners; of mothers and fathers and children---of families. In those spaces, I held the embodiment of time.

Thank you Franklin for giving me a chance when few others would. Thank you for trusting me, for giving me the opportunity to learn from, and be inspired by you. Thank you.

Professor Janelle Wong, AAST Director

Franklin Odo was a warrior for Ethnic Studies and Asian American Studies. He was a model of passion and compassion, integrity, and inspiration.  In our AAST program, he captivated students and the campus community with his work on public history and his research on music, song, and Japanese immigrant workers in Hawai’i.  In the broader field, he was a source of wisdom, laughter, and justice.  Thank you, Franklin, for your life and for your fight for good in this world.