Bald eagles hatched in Piedmont. It turned into a neighborhood reckoning with patriotism

San Francisco Chronicle​

3 days ago

Lo Bloustein was looking through the viewfinder of her camera to a bald eagle nest in the distance when she noticed tears rolling down the face of the woman next to her. Bloustein pulled the stranger into her arms, Bloustein's own eyes now shimmering with tears. The two women had never met before that moment but were brought together by the arrival of two bald eagle fledglings in a massive nest visible from Moraga Avenue in Piedmont.
Tomiko Eya, a resident of the neighborhood, wasn't crying because she was moved by the birds nested in a eucalyptus tree, but because she was concerned about the state of the country.
American iconography like the American flag and the bald eagle have long been fraught symbols for some. And as President Donald Trump continues to dismantle the rights of marginalized communities like transgender people and immigrants, long-held symbols of the federal government and freedom feel especially loaded for some Americans.
'I can't believe we're going backwards,' Eya said, looking out toward the baby birds that will grow to resemble the iconic visage of the national bird.
Put on the endangered species list in 1967, bald eagles have made a modest comeback in the Bay Area. But, observers say, this is the first time in recent memory that a bald eagle pair in the area has successfully hatched their eggs. In 2023, a mating pair attempted to nest in Alameda but never produced offspring.
On a sunny day in late July, there were almost 30 people standing on the sidewalk next to Eya and Bloustein. Cars slowed in front of the crowd, their drivers befuddled by the streetside gathering. Bloustein beckoned for them to pull over and come take a look through her cameras, which had been focused toward the nest in a eucalyptus tree for hours. Since early April, when a neighbor spotted the twin silhouettes of the hatchlings, the neighborhood has been captivated by the family of four. Now, a fledgling covered in brown feathers — their renowned white feathers won't come in for a few years — stood at the edge of the nest, stretching its wings.
For some onlookers like Eya and Bloustein, the birds — and their place in American iconography — bring up difficult feelings as a political divide deepens between citizens. The last few years have seen a flood of protests for racial justice, immigrant rights and trans rights. And while some protesters want to reclaim the American flag for the left, white supremacists and conservatives have also raised the American flag as a symbol of nationalism.
'It's the same with the flag — how do you feel looking at the flag right now?' Bloustein said to herself. 'Rage and fear. I have such a hard time right now with America in general.'
The bald eagle has been a symbol of America since 1782, when it was first featured on the Great Seal of the United States. Over the years, the eagle has come to adorn federal and state buildings, money and military uniforms. But it didn't become the national bird until 2024, when former President Joe Biden gave it that official designation.
As a youth, Eya attended schools in Chicago and Los Angeles, where she said the bald eagle seemed exclusively symbolic of the federal government. But her family history has complicated her view of American iconography.
Eya's father was incarcerated alongside other Japanese and Japanese Americans during World War II at Rohwer War Relocation Center in Arkansas — another state where bald eagles are known to hatch and raise their young. Her father's incarceration and the racial discrimination he faced after the war made him lean into patriotism, she said.
'It was such a horrible experience for him,' she said. 'And it made him more conservative, if you can believe it. He wanted to be as American as he could be.'
That trauma trickled down to Eya, too, but transformed her into a self-identified radical from a young age.
'My parents wanted me to be as white as I could be, to shut my mouth, which was very hard for me,' she said. 'I've never been that quiet.'
Before her father passed, Eya gave him an American flag for his birthday. But she'd never have one at her own home because she associates it with Japanese incarceration, slavery and other acts of state-sanctioned violence.
Still, she doesn't want to put blame on a wild animal for something humans have projected onto it. Her eyes shimmered with tears as she looked out at the tree, where one of the fledglings was spreading its wings.
'I sort of separate it out because I don't want to put any negativity on the eagles,' Eya said.
Bloustein, who lives in San Francisco, agreed.
'When Trump was elected, I started going out to Holly Park at dawn because I needed to see the sunrise and the birds — things that the government couldn't f— up,' she said.