Of near shattered dreams
After the dust of World War II settled down in these isles 54 years ago this month, our parents and grandparents were encamped in Susupe to ensure their safety as the US Armed Forces clear the island of bombs, dead bodies, snipers and tons of debris. The once green isle literally turned into smoky island, brownish from Obyan in the southern end to Marpi up north.
Our parents and grandparents eventually were released from Camp Susupe only to return to familiar places they call home reduced to rubbles by heavy bombardment at the height of the war. But this setback didn’t discourage them from starting all over. It’s the period of reconstruction in every sense of the word. Once again, it’s back to basics of toiling the soil and traditional fishing in the lagoon to provide sustenance to surviving family members.
My mom, her brothers and sisters (in weekend family gatherings) would tell of how the indigenous people were dealt with by the former colonial power. “We were never sold meat, but bones scraped of every iota of meat on them”, she recalled. “We ate meat from farm animals we raised ourselves”. “Meat isn’t sold in Japanese grocery stores. But there’s lots of bones for soup”. She regretted the treatment that her people received from the Japanese Imperial Army. She recanted this and other stories as she explained to me why I must vote favorably for the Covenant Agreement.
In her eyes, I could see her vision of better and brighter days under the proposed arrangement for her children. She and her generation saw the impending relationship as the very holy grail of hope for the generations of Chamorros and Carolinians who would be given greater opportunities to reach for the so-called “American Dream”. Like most who opted for the new relationship, she had placed her trust and faith in all that our country stands for. She said it was “worth it” as memories of her imprisoned father and sister re-entered her mind.
“If my dad came close to being beheaded because he was considered by the Japanese intelligence as an American spy, then it’s all worth the vote of confidence”. It was an emotional moment for both of us and I could see through her lenses what she meant by the very essence of freedom that has descended upon these isles. Perhaps my indifference is founded on the very fact that I was never a pre-war generation, thus spared the discrimination that was leveled against our people by the former colonial power. For mom, the Covenant Agreement is the stepping stone for better and brighter tomorrows.
I took a trip to the pre-war days in these isles when most young kids wake-up at dawn for the long jog to Garapan to attend class that was limited to the fifth grade. Very few locals were given educational opportunities beyond this level. After school, I’d jog back home with the rest of my peers passing by sugar cane fields where our old folks were employed hauling sugar cane bunch from dawn to dusk. It must be a backbreaking job, not to mention hauling cement and rice when Japanese ships berth in Tanapag.
I then fast forwarded this experience to my younger days as a student in the old Trust Territory Government days. There was a stark difference in opportunities which abound and opened to every indigenous student. It’s all up to you to make a go for it. Through time, we were able to matriculate to colleges and universities on Guam, Hawaii and the US mainland. We pursued our dreams in education, never mind that the “American Dream” may be false altogether, but a worthy dream that encouraged us to move on with strong sense of optimism of what lies ahead.
How sad though that the “we few” bunch or social democrats have now seen fit to shatter our dreams in our rights to attain–on equal footing–the same dreams and aspirations of most small communities across the country: Prosperity! My prayers to mom for her encouragement though we both disagreed. But then it didn’t end here mom and I’m ever determined to state my case to ensure that your dreams of “America the Beautiful” descends upon your siblings, extended family, relatives and everybody! It’s what American Democracy is all about after all.
