The fight to end colonization in the island-territory of Guahan

Perspectives on Social Justice: The fight to end colonization in the island-territory of Guahan

3.28.10 Blog Post written for the Therapeutic Justice Project blog at http://therapeuticjustice.blogspot.com/

By Dr. Hope Cristobal

I was 18 in the fall of 1996— “Rock the vote!” was in the air. MTV touted, “Choose or Lose!” Unfortunately that year, I was about to be labeled the “loser,” not by my choice, however, but by the choice made for me by the United States Department of the Interior.

I am an indigenous Chamoru from the island of Guam (the pronunciation given to the island by foreigners). Guahan, is the actual name given by the indigenous people—it means, “We have.”

“Do you guys wear grass skirts?…Do you even have stop lights there?…What do you call your tribe?…Wow, you speak such good English!” These were common questions I encountered when I moved to Washington State at the age of 17. You see, for the first 17 years of my life, I grew up in a United States colony in the Pacific, and many Americans knew nothing of Guahan, so I did a lot to educate my college friends that year. Yes, Guahan is a colony—or politically termed, an Unincorporated Territory of the United States. This is a fancy name for a place where the people are “part of the United States,” and have American citizenship, but do not fall under the United States Constitution, and thus, do not share in the inherent rights afforded most citizens of this country. As a colony, the people of Guahan have no vote in Congress and are governed and “cared for” by the Dept of the Interior—the same federal department that cares for all the national parks and endangered species.

It was the year of my 18th birthday that I encountered the question, “Who are you going to vote for? Clinton or Dole?” It took me a second. It was in this fraction of time that I witnessed my prior 18 years of oppression come splashing onto me, like a bucket of contaminated water that I had been told was fresh from a spring. I realized my “citizenship” was a lie. You see, as an American citizen who still claimed residency in Guahan, I was not allowed to vote for the president of the United States. But my roommate, who was a resident of the US and who shared equally in our household, could vote. She had a voice, a say for who she wanted to govern her life. I did not. She could “choose,” so did that mean I was left the “loser?”

Growing up in a colony you are governed by an outside force you never see. All decisions are made by an outside invisible entity, and the only thing you can do is follow what you’re told. You do not even determine your own destiny. You become the ignored, the silent—you become a void. On some maps, Guahan doesn’t even exist!

I was taught through my US textbooks, through my school instruction, and through the media in Guam that America is one of the bravest, strongest, most powerful, most benevolent, most generous countries in the world. “America the beautiful!” It is such an honor to be a citizen of such a great country! I learned all about American values: “life, liberty, the pursuit the happiness,” and “equality and justice for all.” I learned how to be a good American. As a matter of fact I was such a good American, I perfected the American education system and graduated with my doctorate degree in 2006!

Growing up in a colony, the US education system never taught me about how to be a successful Chamoru or a great Chamoru. I never learned my own identity, my culture, my language, my values, my ancestors, my saina (my great Chamoru leaders), my Chamoru history, history of the Pacific, the plants, the land, the ocean, the sky, the animals, how to grow food and hunt for fish, how to sail the ocean, how to kiss the back of my grandparents’ hand to show honor and respect, how to ask the ancestors of the jungle permission to enter their sacred place.

As a child, my mom tells the story of how she was hit for speaking Chamoru on school grounds. I tell the story of how I “hit” myself for sounding too Chamoru. Back then, I was degraded and in turn, I degraded others for being too Chamoru—I used a bad word called “chaud.” Before I was de-colonized in my mind, I owned the racism and void taught to me through my education, taught to me through television, read in the news, heard through the radio. I wanted to erase myself in order to fit in with the pressure to be a good American.

After that fateful day in 1996—the day I realized I was covered in contamination fed to me by colonial pressure and American idolization, I no longer wanted to be a part of that self-disgust. This was the day I began to lift the veil of colonialism away from my eyes and re-own my greatness as an indigenous Chamoru.

I went to school to become a psychologist because I wanted to empower my people; I wanted to find a way to re-awaken the power inside of them. I wanted to learn how to take away the pain of colonialism and replace it with a renewed sense of self—a powerful self that has a voice, no matter how small. Today, I am a psychologist living and practicing in California. All my training and research has been based on multicultural psychology, social justice and empowerment practices. I remain active in my Chamoru community and work with an organization called Famoksaiyan (means “to nurture, to grow”), speaking out and educating the American public about the injustice done to the Chamoru people because of their political placement within the American family. In 2007, I took my story to the United Nations’ Committee on Decolonization and urged them to continue their moral and ethical responsibility to eradicate colonies around the world. I am going again this year to remind the Committee that Guahan still needs their help.

My people experience a wide array of health, mental health, and legal problems. Chamorus are over-represented in correctional facilities and within the mental health system. We suffer high rates of teen suicide, school dropouts, depression, family violence, incarceration, poverty, substance abuse and social problems typical to subjugated native peoples. We have the highest rates of cancer, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, and parkinsonism-dementia on US soil because of the military’s contamination of our land and water. We have high rates of cardiovascular disease, diabetes, hypertension, and obesity because of the change in our diet from indigenous food sources to packaged, processed foods imported from the US.

Today, we face the threat of further loss. In November 2009, the US military released a Draft Environmental Impact Statement (DEIS). In this statement to the Chamoru people, they say they plan to take an additional 40% of our 212 square mile island, in addition to the 1/3 they already own. They propose plans to relocate armed personnel from Okinawa to Guahan, which will increase our population by 45% over the next 4 years. As part of this project, they also plan to rip out 71 acres of our fragile reef to make way for a transient nuclear aircraft carrier. The DoD has rattled our cage and many Chamorus are saying “No!” to the military buildup and its proposed projects.

Even though we are unable to use the US Constitution to fight for our rights, we are gathering together in large numbers to save what we can of Guahan—what “we have”—our language, our culture, and our livelihoods. We are speaking about our experiences, our struggles, and our hopes for our people. We publish and speak out at weareguahan.com. And, we are gaining national and international attention. You can read the March 23rd Washington Post article here: http://weareguahan.com/2010/03/23/washington-post-runs-article-on-buildup/

The story of the US-colonized Chamorus in Guahan is one wrought with political, social, psychological, cultural, and economic subjugation, death, suffering, sacrifice, and alienation. Our struggle: my mother’s struggle and my struggle, has been perpetually memorialized in a very educational new PBS documentary called, The Insular Empire: America in the Mariana Islands, a film by Vanessa Warheit, a fierce Chamoru ally and activist. It will air on KCTS Seattle, March 28, at 7pm. It will replay on April 2 at 4am. Here is a schedule of upcoming national PBS air dates: http://www.mynewsletterbuilder.com/email/newsletter/1410236557 You can also read the blog here: http://theinsularempire.blogspot.com/. Vanessa Warheit and Famoksaiyan are working together to try to bring the film to the Seattle area for a screening with the producer and myself.

The end of colonialism begins on the shores of the United States. I am asking you now, my fellow American social activist, to help end colonialism for all indigenous people!

How can you be helpful to us?

• Educate yourself. If you are reading this right now, you already know so much more than the average American!

• In 5 minutes you can tell 5 more fellow Americans about what you’ve learned about Guahan. Encourage them to tell 5 more people, and so on.

• Sign up on the We are Guahan website and the Insular Empire blog to stay informed.

• You can donate to our California organization, Famoksaiyan. Our Paypal email is supportfamoksaiyan@gmail.com. We operate solely from money donated to us by angel funders such as you, and out of our own pockets. Your money can help conduct educational outreach in the schools and colleges; provide the opportunity for a Chamoru person to speak out at the local, national, and international levels about our injustice; further educate and empower our fellow Chamorus about their rights; and allow the bridging of our fight in Guahan to the fight here in the states.

• Call your local Congressperson and tell them about what you know. Tell them not to support the military buildup in Guahan.

On behalf of the Chamoru people, si yu’us ma’ase, yan saina ma’ase. Thank you for your support, and we also recognize and thank the leaders and guides that have gone before us. Manggaisuette siha ni’ manggaibosa! Blessed are those with voice!

Bio for Dr. Hope A. Cristobal

As an indigenous Chamoru living in the Diaspora, Dr. Hope Cristobal was born and raised on the island-territory of Guahan. She is a psychologist who specializes in the treatment and assessment of indigenous and marginalized populations, focusing on the unique situation for colonized Chamorus from Guahan. Dr. Cristobal believes that the long-term sustainability of the Chamorus is rooted in the resolution of colonization and marginalization, and the installation of community empowerment through the establishment of indigenous-lead, culturally sensitive solutions and programs. In 2007, she testified at the United Nations regarding the psychosocial problems currently facing the Chamoru people and urged the Committee on Decolonization to move forward with their commitment to eradicate colonies around the world. She is an active member of Famoksaiyan and is dedicated to raising awareness among the American public, and Chamorus from the Diaspora, about the social ills facing the colonized Chamoru communities in Guahan. You can contact Dr. Cristobal at hope.cristobal@gmail.com.

2 Comments

Christina

Hi Jake,

I like this post a lot and I can really relate to it. I find myself currently going through some of the things the author describes. That part about the internalized racism is something I’ve avoided thinking about but I know is there.

Would you be able to include who wrote the original essay? I know it couldn’t have been Hope because with the time line mentioned the author is around my brother’s age. I was thinking it was from the Drowning Mermaid blog but the time line is off.

I’m just curious and think the essay might have more power if it was followed there was a sentence or two about the narrator.

anyway, I love the site. Thanks for supporting Guahan!

Christina

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