Students and faculty alike pass through it on a daily basis, most unaware of what the space around them represents. It is an unpretentious area of quiet reflection, a welcome break from the bustle of an urban university. It is a shadowy, green meadow, with rocks seemingly scattered at random and a couple of pathways concluding at a rock-laden waterfall.

It is also the unique vision of an individual that has been labeled as “San Francisco’s best-loved artist.”

Ruth Asawa’s Garden of Remembrance is a subtle, natural tribute to 19 SF State students who were forced to withdraw from the university during the Japanese American internment of World War II.

Asawa, whose additional art is featured on the SF State campus, was the primary creative force behind what is arguably the most overlooked public gem on the school grounds. And despite its placement near the geographic center, and one of the most-traveled spots, its significance remains unknown by most who pass by.

“It’s nice, I was lying down and reading my book here,” said Kevin Ninkovich, a 21-year-old English major who was previously unaware of the garden‘s meaning. “It’s very nice and very tranquil.”

While it is a meticulously manicured grassy area wedged between Burk Hall and the Fine Arts building, it is simultaneously an inauspicious center of commemoration for one of most painful American experiences of the 20th century.

The garden features 10 strategically placed boulders that represent permanent internment camps as they were located across the U.S. continent. When one stands at the western end of the garden, that which lies farthest from the waterfall, the nearest two rocks represent the War Relocation Authority’s camps at Tule Lake and Manzanar in California.

“Ruth Asawa said that every stone has a place,” said Carole Hayashino, who played a vital role in the garden’s creation. “They were placed in a way that were friendly to students, so that they could sit on them.”

Hayashino was the associate vice president for development at SF State when she discovered a memo documenting the withdrawal of the 19 students, and helped garner the financial support needed for the memorial. The largest grant was given by the California Civil Liberties Public Education Program, which was initiated to spread education of the internment experience. The garden was dedicated on April 19, 2002, with the mayor of Osaka and university president, Robert Corrigan, among those that attended the ceremony.

Asawa, who lives in San Francisco and received an honorary degree from SF State in 1998, is renowned for her artistic wire sculptures and fountains. Together with Isao Ogura and Shigeru Namba from the Professional Gardeners Association of Northern California, she helped turn an ordinary campus thoroughfare into a Zen-like green retreat from demanding student life.

“She wanted to tell the story without hitting people on the head with it,” said Hayashino. “People have to ask questions about it, it’s very subtle.”

Just past the eastern edge of the grass is a sandy clearing in front of a seven-foot bronze plaque, the lone marker explaining the garden’s meaning. It was also designed by Asawa, and contains inscribed copies of original documents critical to the understanding of the memorial, including the memo with the students’ names. It is largely unread, as students zip through with headphones blaring or cell phones hanging on their ear, not privy to the garden’s purpose.

“You just walk right by it,” said Cesar Granados, a 23-year-old accounting major who was also passing through. “The plaque is way over there, but it’s interesting to know about.”

When asked about the subtlety of the garden, Granados cited the use of rocks to commemorate the camps instead of the students.

“It’s bizarre with the 10 rocks for the internment camps,” said Granados. “It seems like there should be 19 rocks for the students.”

While many students and faculty have yet to take notice of the garden’s special meaning, one man who appreciates its quiet aura is Fine Arts Gallery Director Mark Johnson.

“The bronze scroll is very subtle…in general, people just don’t take the time to stop and look at it,” said Johnson, who worked with Asawa during the garden‘s creation. “That it is so subtle, it is just what she intended, and it ended up just sort of perfect.”

Johnson said that Asawa was very specific in all aspects of the garden’s formation, from the specific placement of the rocks in the grass to the cherry blossoms surrounding the waterfall. The symbolism flows from the desolation of the camps, as represented by the rocks, to the refreshing renewal of the waterfall.

“The whole thing, it creates a sense of ‘here‘ on our campus, and I always take visitors. It is a world-class spot on our campus,” said Johnson. “Ruth Asawa’s vision was that we are all connected, we are all human beings.”