

In Memory of Toni “Malia” Ramirez
CHamoru oral historian & Geneologist


In Guam and all across the Pacific, tradition lives not only in the past- but in motion. It dances in our gatherings, sings through our chants, and speaks in words passed quietly between generations. It’s woven in the clothes we wear, seasoned in the food we eat, and rooted in the lands we walk on. It lingers in memory, and yet still breathes in the present- reshaped by every step we take forward.
This issue is a reflection of that movement. It asks how we honor where we come from while navigating where we’re going. How do we hold on to what grounds us, while still making space for change? What does it mean to live in culture, not just beside it?
The stories held here trace the threads of identity woven through everyday life. They hint at moments of resistance, acts of celebration, and the quiet strength of continuity. Whether through art, language, craft, sound, or space, each piece contributes to a conversation much larger than any single voice.
Tradition is not a fixed point. It’s a current flowing through us, shaped by our hands, our choices, and the stories we choose to tell.
By Elianna Cuevas
The Annual Research Conference’s “Tapestries of Resilience: Woven Through Diversity” exhibit on March 7 was filled with different artists from the UOG Fine Arts program whose work is connected by threads that hold the community together through diverse experiences of what it meanstoliveinGuam.
UOG Adjunct Professor and Artist Jerrold Dwayne Castro shared that histakeawayontheexhibit’stheme is inspired by his understanding of theCHamoruculture.
“I think of the way that CHamorus used to make fabric here on this island, where they made woven mats. I started thinking about the idea of weaving something is just individual strands strengthening together,” Castro explained. “We’re together to create this community that becomes something beautiful andresilient.”
Castro emphasized that every strand represents the different microcultures that make up the island’slargerculturalidentity.
Inafa’måolek: To Make Good
In his work, Castro always involves CHamoru culture and identity–whether it’s in the context, title, subject,oreventheprocessitself.
His “Inafa’måolek” series helped him realize the resiliency of the CHamoru culture and how it has enduredforthousandsofyears.
On his website, Castro says each painting consists of symbolic poses that bring awareness to the CHamoru people’s desires for selfdetermination, the reclamation of lost practices and willingness to redefinetheirculture.
Castro said, off-island, not many peopleknowaboutthecultureand relationship Guam has with the United States. During Castro’s military career, he recalled
experiencing challenges when educating the Americans about Guam and our precarious position withtheUnitedStates.
Many assumed that Castro was not a U.S. citizen or had immigrated, which prompted him to explain Guam and its fraught history and ongoingtroublescountlesstimes.
However, his experiences would eventually inspire his “Inafa’måolek” series, or “To Make Good.” While the series was initially influenced by the history behind colonial influences on the CHamoru culture, Castro said “Inafa’måolek” is based on a more personallevel.
“It’s a message to the rest of America, and the rest of the world, that I’m going through this personal journey of understanding myculturalidentity,”hesaid.
He believes that the colonial influences the CHamoru people have been subjected to for years are what make Guam unique and strong.
Migrations: Hinanao Mo’na Castro felt inspired to explore the CHamoru culture as a whole and the ways it is always evolving–not just across locations, but across time.
To represent the act of reclaiming something that was lost, Castro incorporated the sakman into his work.
“We have CHamorus that are building canoes, outrigger canoes, sailing and learning them. We lost thataspectofourcultureandwe’ve finally reclaimed it,” Castro explained.
The sakman was the largest and most impressive canoe among the six types the ancient CHamorus built. It was reportedly able to carry around one-hundred men, making
the sakman ideal for long voyages anddeep-seafishing.
Despite the series’ completion, Castro continues to work on pieces from “Inafa’måolek” and “Hinanao Mo’na.”
Although “Hinanao Mo’na” was meant to be a solo exhibition, Castro was unable to gather the collection in it's entirety. However, he recently showcased a three-part artwork from the series at the ARC exhibit.
I Kaiha Tåtte: The Long Way Back After exploring his cultural identity and personal journey in
"Brown people, brown spaces." 33-year-old Jasmine
Stole Weiss left the newsroom to reclaim Micronesian representation through The Husk, a newsletter that celebrates Micronesians at home and in the diaspora bytellingstoriesleftoutofthemainstreammedia.
BornandraisedontheislandofGuam,Weissmadeit her mission to captivate the stories of the people in her community in a positive light. As a Micronesian herself with roots in Palau and Pohnpei, Weiss’s work highlights the importance of meaningful representationinthemedia.
In 2021, Weiss made a dramatic career shift to launch herveryownTheHusk,anonlinenewsletterthataims to showcase the accolades of the Micronesian community to the world. This new career path became her way of reclaiming the narrative around the Micronesian community, who Weiss felt were oftenportrayednegativelyinlocalmedia.
The Husk is Weiss’s love letter to the Micronesian people, both at home and in the diaspora. Her newsletter has become a hub for celebrating Micronesian success, showcasing the diverse accomplishments of her community in a place dedicatedtocelebratingthem.
ForWeiss,thesestoriesserveasacountertotheoften one-dimensionalportrayalofherpeopleinlocalnews.
“I write about their small business and their creative outlets,andthingsthatarereallycool.Iliketheideaof writingabouttheminspaceswherewemaynotreally see them before, especially in our local media” Weiss shared.
The Husk gets its name from the symbolic coconut, a lifeline for many islands. Weiss was drawn to the concept of naming her newsletter something meaningful both to her and the community she serves.
“Thecoconutissuchanimportantpartofourculture. It’s a nod to something that has zsustained us for generations. I also think about the way ‘coconut’ was used as a derogatory term to describe people who weren’t ‘fully’ Micronesian like me, calling someone brown on the outside but white on the inside. I wanted to reclaim that word in a way that celebrates usinstead,”shesaid.
A Journey Through Journalism Weissdidnotalwayssetouttobecomeavoiceforthe Micronesian community, though. Her passion for storytellingandprintmediashapedherfromayoung age.
After earning a B.A. in Communication and Media, Weiss jumped into her career as a reporter for the Guam Daily Post, formerly known as Marianas Variety Guam. After a few years, she joined the Pacific Daily Newsteamasacrimereporterforanotherfiveyears.
But chasing deadlines and her next scoop for local newsoutletslikethePacificDailyNewsandtheGuam DailyPost,Weissrealizedsomethingwasmissing.
Weiss felt that her work as a crime reporter was no longer aligned with her personal values. Leaving the newsroom behind was a difficult decision, but it felt necessaryforher.
“I don't think I could ever really be so callous to not sympathize with someone going through something really tough. The work I do now is more aligned with my personal constitution and the things I want to existintheworld,”shenoted.
Still, Weiss’s work as a reporter for local news outlets was a fruitful experience. She attributes many of her skills as a journalist to her time spent in the newsroom.
Through her service as a reporter, Weiss realized the manybenefitsoftheworkshewasdoing.Shelearned importantskillslikemeetingdeadlinesandgathering information daily while also honing existing skills like writing.
“Being on the job taught me how to tell a story out of somethingthatImightnotfindinterestingbutIknow isimportant,andreallyconveythatinthestoriesItell,” sheexpressed.
Fromcoveringthelegislaturetocommunityeventsto crime, Weiss claims it all played a vital role in where sheisnowinhercareer.
“Every day was different. One day, I’d be at a budget hearing, and the next, I might be covering something bizarre, like a dead whale in Agat. You learn so much about the community, and no two days are alike” Stole-Weissrecalled.
Though The Husk is still young, it is Weiss’s hope that itsimpactwillonlygrowintime.
“I don’t have any concrete evidence of how it’s resonating yet, but my hope is that someone out there, now or in the future, will see someone who looks like them in a space they didn’t think they belonged,andthey’llrealizethattheycandothattoo,” shesaid.
For Weiss, the goal is simple: to uplift her community andshowthatMicronesiansaremorethanthelimited portrayals seen in mainstream media and inspire otherstodothesame.
“My greatest aspiration is that one person, just one, sees what we’re able to do and thinks, ‘I can do that too, or maybe I can do something even better.’ That wouldbeenoughforme.”
You can read more about Weiss’s mission and other related works celebrating Micronesia at https:// thehusk.substack.com/.
A journey into the world of art and activismisdeeplyintertwinedwith RoquinSiongco’sculturalheritage, personal identity and lifelong passion for creation. What started aschildhoodcuriositytransformed into a powerful form of artistic expression, combining past with thepresent.
A Thread from the Past Siongco’sartisticrootstracedback totheirgrandmother,theeldestof 16 siblings, who learned to sew to help provide for the family. Growing up under her guidance, Siongco often found inspiration surrounded by sewing machines and fabric, learning the craft from anearlyage.
Their artistic journey began in a CHamoru class in third grade when Señora Flores taught the art of weaving by demonstrating how to make a grasshopper out of coconutleaves.
“I remember thinking, ‘What…these are just made out of leaves?’ It blew my mind,” Siongco recalled.
They moved to Washington at 12, which made coconut leaves inaccessible. This led to an explorationofotherartformssuch as origami, different weaving techniques and fashion, which eventually became integral to theircreativepath.
Identity and Activism
As a queer CHamoru artist, an exploration of their identity became a constant part of Siongco’s experience living in the states.
“InGuam,IcouldbeCHamoru,but I had to kind of hide this part of me.IntheStates,Icouldbemyself but always had to explain, ‘What’s a Guam?’” This experience taught them the importance of being true to yourself and expressing it openly.
Their work embodies the concept of “Artivism,” which is using art as atoolforactivism.
By Matt Mercado
“Before I ever used the term [artivism], it was already around. It describes artists whose work is embedded in a political worldview,” Siongco explained. Each piece addresses cultural identity, colonial history and environmental concerns, encouraging reflection and deep conversation.
“A lot of our history has been affected by colonialism, so I make it a point to consider what is truly from Guåhan or the Marianas,” Siongcosaid.
By blending traditional CHamoru techniques with modern materials, their goal was to challenge rigid definitions of authenticity.
“I hate the word ‘authenticity’ becauseI’mCHamoru—whateverI create, is that not CHamoru? As longasourpeoplesee,appreciate, and value it, and see a little bit of themselvesinit,Ithinkwe’recool,” Siongcoaddedwithalaugh.
Many of Siongco’s works are responses to learning more about CHamoru culture and history. One piece that holds particular significance is “Tai Ulu,” which explored the connection between thelivingandthedead.
They referred to an ancient traditional ceremony practiced in the past. “Today, that practice has faded. It made me reflect on how weaving, my primary medium, eventually returns to the earth,” Siongco explains. “Tradition doesn’t lie in the object but in the practiceofmakingit.”
Siongco’sworkhasbeendisplayed at institutions like the Tacoma Art Museum, the Seattle Washington MuseumandtheGuamMuseum.
In 2018, Siongco co-founded Guma’ Gela, which translates to
“house of difference.” Initially formed by a group of CHamoru queer artists in Washington state, their collective has since created spaces for artistic expression and cultural dialogue.
“We reclaimed the word ‘difference’ as something positive, reflecting both our CHamoru and queeridentities,”Siongcoshares.
For Siongco, the biggest challenge in the creative process is mindset. “I like to planthingsout,but that doesn’t always work. I always say, ‘If you can dream it, we can weave it,’” Siongco says.
Siongco reflects,“I never imagined that playing with leaves as a kid would lead to international exhibits. But every step along the way, I kept an openndandheart.”
Siongco’s advice to aspiring artists is to embrace imperfection. “It’s hard to not be a perfectionist. When you put your work out there, you don’t always hear the reactionsyouwant.But what we did hear was that our work brought people joy. So remember the joy,” theysaid.
ForSiongco,artisnot just about creation–it’s about connection, history and carving a space where identity and tradition are celebrated. “Part land, part sea, all ancestry,” Siongco said
For Anderson, modernizing cultural expression also meantmakingpersonalchoicesaboutwhatelements to highlight. While spondylus shells have deep historical significance in CHamoru jewelry, she intentionallydecidednottousetheminherbrand.
“That's one of the reasons why I started Dudus Girl, because I didn't want to wear spondylus or seashells on my ears all the time to represent my culture. I wanted something more modern and sophisticated to wear every day, “ she expressed. “ While my products are not exactly traditional CHamoru jewelry made of spondylus, shells and other materials used back in ancient times, a lot of my styles are still reflectionsoftheculture.”
AsforKakas,authenticityisnotaboutfollowingarigid set of traditions, but rather about sharing her own cultural experiences: “For me, how I still practice my cultural authenticity within my business is just simply sharing what is raw, what my raw cultural experience is in life and in my childhood while I was growing up withinaCHamoruhousehold.”
Through Tingz by T, Kakas brings these personal experiencesintoherbrand,tyingthenostalgicfeeling of home into her products in ways that feel both familiar and fresh. She draws inspiration from the jewelry her Nana and grandmother wore–gold-round bracelets, layered hoop earrings, and Guam seal necklaces–pieces that once felt like everyday accessories but now serve as symbols of tradition and identity.
Understanding that culture is subjective and deeply personal, Kakas emphasizes that there is no single way to define CHamoru authenticity in the jewelry industryandingeneral
Take Kaka’s red rice for example. “Some people put onions and some people put bacon, but it’s still red rice. For each individual, that's authentic to them. That's what they were taught in their culture. That's whattheirparentstaughtthem,orwhattheiraunties andunclestaughtthem,sothat'sauthentictothem.”
To further blend authenticity with modern business trends,hersocialmediacontentreflectsthelanguage andtoneofhergenerationbyincorporatingCHamoru phrases,engagingincasualandrelatableinteractions, andinfusingherpersonalstyleintothebrand’svoice
As they continue to grow their businesses, both entrepreneurs hope to inspire other young CHamoru women to pursue their passions and embrace their identities.
Kakas believes the key to success is staying authentic and knowing how to maintain peace in all spaces. Beingtruetooneselfattractswhatismeantforthem.
For Anderson, it is about taking that leap of faith. Under the advisement of her late professor, Dr. Karri Perez at the University of Guam during her college years,Andersonencouragesaspiringentrepreneursto takerisksandnotfearfailure.
Their journeys demonstrate that entrepreneurship in Guam is not solely about profit, but about purpose. Through inafa’maolek and famalao’an, Kakas and Anderson, along with many others like them, are shaping businesses that reflect their personal stories. Their efforts inspire a future where CHamoru culture continues to thrive in innovative and meaningful ways.
mean blacksmithing itself is disappearing? Or is it simply evolving? We still forge by hand when we can, buttechnologyallowsustostreamlinecertainpartsof theprocess.Thequestionis:Atwhatpointdoesitstop beingblacksmithingandbecomesomethingelse?
Lizama supports, "The industrial revolution fundamentally changed blacksmithing's role in society worldwide. Mass manufacturing flooded the market with cheap, quickly produced tools, dramatically reducing the need for traditional blacksmithing. What was once a critical skill and profession became marginalized, forcing the craft to transition from a utilitarian practice to a form of cultural preservation. Collectors, cultural enthusiasts, andtradition-keepersbecametheprimarysupporters ofthiscraft,ensuringitssurvivalthroughappreciation ratherthanpureeconomicdemand."
Unlike his father, Sean does not blacksmith full-time. His career in education and videography reflects the reality many modern craftsmen face, balancing passion with practicality. Younger generation’s relationship with blacksmithing is also changing. While few pursue it as a living, others are drawn to it for its craftsmanship, artistry, and connection to heritage.
Someaspectsofthecrafthavealreadyadapted.While traditional forging methods remain important, blacksmiths today incorporate modern tools like belt grinders,powerhammers,andindustrialforges.
"Maintaining traditional crafts like blacksmithing in today’s society requires a ton of effort and commitment. I, like many other traditional practitioners, focus on preserving our craft through education, cultural demonstrations, and artistic expression. Holding workshops, participating in cultural festivals, and getting educational grants have become crucial platforms for keeping the cultural practicesalive,"Lizamashared.
What Defines Tradition?At the heart of the discussion is the question: Does modernization change the essence of a tradition? If a machete is still used in farming, but it’s made in a factory rather than a forge, isitstillaCHamorutool?
The same could be said for blacksmithing today. As techniques shift, the essence of the craft – problemsolving, creation, and identity– remains. The key is intention.
"The survival of cultural practices depends on their ability to adapt while maintaining core principles. CHamoru blacksmithing exemplifies this by allowing each generation to add its unique perspective and creative interpretation. The craft's essence remains intact not through rigid preservation, but through a continuous thread of skill transmission and cultural pride. By embracing change while honoring fundamental techniques and cultural significance, blacksmithing remains a dynamic expression of CHamoru identity, proving that tradition can evolve withoutlosingitsfundamentalspirit."
While fewer people practice blacksmithing today, its legacy is far from lost. Sean and others like him continue to keep the fire burning, whether through forging, education, or storytelling. The craft may look different in the modern world, but its significance endures.
So, can a cultural practice change without losing its soul? If the tools remain but the hands that shape them change, is the craft still considered traditional? These are the questions that many navigate when traditionmeetsinnovation.
Theanswerliesinthehandsofthosewhocontinueit. As long as the tools stay and the stories are passed down, the tradition, however it may evolve, will never trulydisappear.
Inside Guam Memorial Hospital, a vibrant mural now adorns a wall of the pediatric ward’s playroom, offering a visual journey through Guam’svillages,culture,andisland life. The artist behind it, Maria Sol Marques,tookontheprojectasan artistic challenge and an opportunity to represent the island’s identity in a way that felt authenticandpersonal.
For Marques, a sophomore studyingintegrativebiologywitha minor in art and CHamoru studies at the University of Guam, the mural was an opportunity to tell the story of Guam through imagery that is meaningful to her andtheisland’speople.
Though born in Michigan, Marques’ CHamoru roots run deep, and she credits her formative years on the island as shaping her worldview and art, a time when she began developing hercraft.
As she matured as an artist, her work naturally started to reflect the world she grew up inparticularly from the perspective of young girls moving through familiarislandspaces.
Aesthetically, her art started to include lots of plant life and architectural elements from Guam. The way the buildings’ structure and the abundance of tropical plants left a strong impression on her. She tries to recreate that same warm, natural,
nostalgic atmosphere in her work -onethatmirrorstheenvironment she grew up in. She captures this feeling through lush plants, warm tonesandyouthfulperspectives.
Marques emphasizes the importance of lived experience in portraying Guam. As a CHamoru artist, she feels a responsibility to reflect not just the island’s beauty, but also its environmental and political struggles, especially the impactofmilitarization.Hergoalis to create imagery that feels authentic to those who share that livedreality.
That sense of place is evident in every detail of her mural. With each village she paints, she embeds distinct references to its people,stories,andsymbols.
Commissioned by Bringing Color to Healing and funded through a grant from the Guam Council on the Arts and Humanities Agency, the project offered Marques a choice between creating a map of Guamoranoceanscavengerhunt.
Originally, Marques planned to do the ocean scavenger hunt because it seemed easier. However, she felt a strong pull toward creating the Guam map, even though it intimidated her. Since Guam is such a small island, every decision - like which places to include or which plants to paint - carried more weight. The limited space meant she had to be intentional and selective with
By Riyo Anne Reyes
whatshehighlighted.
“As a CHamoru person and someone who has so much family here, I know that there’s a lot of things that people would feel very deeply about that kind of mural,” shesaid.
“I was ready to take on something moredifficultlikethat,”sheadded. “I decided last minute to take that one, just because I felt like I would learn a lot. It would help me grow alotasanartist.”
Marques approached the mural project with a strong sense of community involvement. To decide what to paint in each village,shereachedouttoothers–posting on Instagram, talking to friends from specific villages, and consulting with her parents, elders,andotherfamilymembers. She wanted the mural to reflect hermemories,sharedexperiences, and elements that were meaningful across generations. Her goal was to highlight parts of Guam with lasting significance, especiallythingsthatchildrenand elders alike would recognize. While she painted the mural herself, the ideas and inspiration camefrommanyvoiceswithinthe community.
With every landmark, she paints the very soul of CHamoru culture captured by traditional tools like the kamyu, a coconut grater representing ancestral knowledge and the CHamoru’s way of using nature. The Sakman, a traditional
By Kiara Mel Aguon
Cultural dance or chants are powerful expressions in the Pacific Islander community. Chanting has been used to tell stories and pass down our histories from one generation to the next. It is a tradition that continues in spite of centuries of colonization and occupation. Traditional chants are more than performances,theyarelivinghistories.
Early documentation of cultural chant dates back to 1602 when missionary Fray Juan Pobre described the types of chants he observed during his stay in Rota. Womenwouldchantpriortoburials–askingthespirit why they left family, fishing spear, canoe and more behind.
In Daughters of the Island, Laura Marie Torres Souder and Dr. Bernadita Camacho Dungca suggest that women carried on chanting during the Spanish colonial period. The nobenas heard today are greatly influencedbytheancientCHamoruchanting.
Jesse “Tåno” Rivera was one of the first contemporary chanters in the 1990s and helped revive the practice. He would proudly proclaim, “Guahu Taotao Tåno!” before beginning his chants, later becoming the officialchanterforopeningceremonies.
The Festival of Pacific Arts and Culture, held in June 2024 after a hiatus due to the COVID-19 pandemic, is the world’s largest celebration of Indigenous Pacific Islandercultureandlanguage.Caleb“Hinasso”Cruzis one cultural performer who had the honor of representing Guam through transformative performancesattheevent.
His interest in chant and dance began at the 2016 FESTPACclosingceremony.
“Often looking back to my time as a spectator in that audience, bright-eyed and wishing nothing more than to be on that stage to share in the experience of perpetuating the culture that raised me to the world withmybrothersandsisters,”Cruzsaid.
Being a part of the Guam Performing Arts delegation for the 2024 FESTPAC was an extraordinary experienceforhim.
“When Guam was introduced during the opening ceremony, I was overtaken by a sense of bliss as the delegation marched out onto the center stage. That
moment was the first time I truly felt I was part of a much bigger mission on a grander scale than I could haveeverimaginedittobe.”
ForCruz,chantingismorethananartisticexpression. Itisapersonalconnectiontohisheritageandidentity. Cruz reflects, “CHamoru performing arts has given me an outlet to express my love and passion for the culture that raised me since youth, as well as an avenue to both learn more about the story of my people, and finally to teach others about our history andwayoflife.”
Other than FESTPAC, one performance felt transformative to his identity as a cultural dancer, which occurred during a cultural exchange program in 2018 in Japan as a small delegation group to 3 JuniorHighInstitutions.
“At this point, I had not understood the reach that CHamoru cultural arts had throughout the world, let alone to be invited by a Japanese high school as the showcase piece of CHamoru culture during their culturecelebration,”Cruzsaid.
During his time co-teaching middle schoolers, he believes that he has a sense of responsibility in teachingandpreservingthesignificanceofchants.
“I realize that the arts serve as the gateway to the culture for the younger ones interested in learning more about CHamoru holistically. The future generationswillbetheoneswelooktowardwhenwe and previous generations are ready to pass on the proverbialtorch.”
For fellow cultural dancer, Cameron San Agustin, what began as an after-school activity with her friendsgrewintoalifelongpassion.
“Although most of them have moved on, I stayed becauseit'sbecomesomuchmorethanjustanafterschoolactivity.Chanthasbecomeawayformetostay connected to my CHamoru culture, while also giving me an outlet to express and celebrate who we are. Being surrounded by people who are so knowledgeable and passionate about our traditions and history only deepens my love for it. It pushes me to keep learning, growing, and sharing our culture withothers.”
Representing Guam during the 2024 FestPAC was a great honor for San Agustin. “Being able to share a piece of my home with so many people from across the Pacific and beyond was an unforgettable experience. There was something so special about standing with my fellow dancers and showcasing our culture through dance and chant. I felt such a deep sense of pride and connection. It reminded me why I do this—to keep our traditions alive and tosharethebeautyofourculturewith theworld.”
There was one FestPAC performance that gaveSanAgustinchills.
“During that performance, we incorporated dancersfromtheotherMarianaIslands,andinthat moment, I realized that being a dancer is about morethanjusttechnique—it'saboutconnection, purpose, and responsibility. Seeing us move together as one, despite the distance between ourislands,reinforcedthatdanceisapowerful way to preserve and share our culture. That experience transformed how I see myself as a dancer-not just as a performer, but as someone with a role in keeping our traditions alive.
One of her takeaways from performing at FESTPAC was that what they do now will shapethefutureofourculture.
“Chantanddancearen'tjustforus,they're forthegenerationsthatwillcomeafter.Ifeel a deep responsibility to keep learning, growing, and sharing these traditions so that they don't fade away. It's not just about preserving the past, but making sure our culturecontinuestoevolveandthrive.
By Aidan Cacapit
Music is Everywhere! Musicisalwayspresentinourdaily lives, whether on television, the radio or social media–you name it! It is everywhere and each selection of music is placed to createameaningorapurpose.For CHamorus, that meaning and purpose lies in how music creates unityandbringstogetherfamilies, friends, and entire communities onGuam.
Music in the CHamoru culture plays an influential role to entertain, express culture and preservetraditions.ForCHamorus, music is most commonly used to tell stories and create an uplifting, empatheticandsoulfulfeeling.
The Role Music Plays In Our Community
Music also serves as a base of diversity and unity that brings people, families and communities together. To kick off an island-wide celebration of Mes CHamoru, Mayor Johnny A. Quinata’s festival grounds showcased CHamoru culture, heritage and traditions open to the public. The celebration featured music, games, food, and demonstrations that highlighted Humåtak’s beauty to not only residents,buttotouristsaswell.
The concert scene on Guam also plays a vital role in bringing together music lovers and strengthening the local community. In October 2024, many people attended the concert hosted by Håfaloha Concert Series, headlined by Hawaiian reggae musical group Kolohe Kai. Fans enjoyed the overall vibe and expressed their positive experience through YouTube and TikTok.
Guam is home to many talented musiciansandiconicartistswhoplaya vitalroleintheisland’smusicindustry. Among these artists are J.D. Crutch and Johnny Sablan, both CHamoru musicians whose music reflects themes of love, family and the unique islandlifeofGuam.
In 1977, J.D. Crutch collaborated with Tugboat, Chuck McJohn, Frank Reyes, and Joe Cunningham on the “Marianas Homegrown” album. The groupperformedinfrontof8,000fans, successfully impressing and exciting theaudiencewiththeirmusic.
Johnny Sablan, another key figure in the CHamoru music industry, has also been fundamental in shaping Guam’s music community. His 1986 album “Dalai Nene” became the first commercially recorded CHamoru album.
Sablan received many accolades over the span of five decades, including “IslandIconof2011.”
1. Let’s Do It Again by J Boog
Releasedin2010,thissongisfromthealbum“BackyardBoogie.” JerryFealofaniAfemata,professionallyknownasJBoog,isan American-Samoansingerandsongwriterwhosemaingenreis reggaehip-hop/rap.
ThesongwassoinfluentialthatitinspiredlocalsingerPiaMiato incorporateandsampleJBoog’s“Let’sDoItAgain.”PiaMia’s versionfeaturespopularartistsChrisBrownandTygaandwas releasedinMay2015.
AccordingtoPiaMia,sheencounteredthesongwhenJBoog performeditonGuamin2011.PiaMiaandherteamdecidedto piecetogetherthenewsongin2014,furtherempoweringother localartistslikeCLAWWWD,TheJohnDankShow, STRAIGHTUPJEDandmanyotherstosingandexpresstheirlove fortheislandanditsculture.
2. Cool Down by Kolohe Kai Releasedin2010,thissongisfromthealbum“ThisIsTheLife”by KoloheKai.Imagineyouareonthebeach,enjoyingthesandon yourtoesandthewaterswayingbackandforthasthesun gleamsdownonyou.
Ontopofthat,thinkofthesmellofBBQroastingonagrillasthe fireintensifies.ThisiswhatIimaginewhenIthinkofthissong:A beachy,funvibe.
IheardthissongforthefirsttimewhenIwas13,atthebeach havinganold-fashionedBBQcookoutwithmyfamilyandmy cousins.Irememberthissongplaying,notwantingtoskipitsoI couldlistenandappreciatetherhythmandlyrics.
Evennow,Icannothelpbutbopmyheadtothedrumsandthe ukuleleastheyaccompanyeachotherverywell.Thissonggives offpuresoulandcapturesthatuniqueislandvibe!
3. Sweet Darlin by Fiji
Releasedin1996,thissongisfromthealbum“Born&Raised”by Fiji.ThesongiscomposedbyEdwardStruzickandperformedby GeorgeBrooksVeikoso,AKAFiji,withhismaingenrebeing reggaehip-hop/rap.
Ifirstheardthissonginmiddleschoolwhenitwasplayedfor GupotCHamoru.Irememberhearingitandinstantlybecoming hookedbyitseasy-to-rememberlyricsandcatchymelody.Irecall manyotherstudentssingingalonganddancingtothesong.
Withoutadoubt,thisisasongthatIcansinganydayand anytime!
By Alayna Alonz
Palauan taro patches serve not only to feed usbutasasourceofnostalgia,community, andasymboloffoodsovereignty.
Saturday afternoons for my 14 year old self usually meant time to relax, chat online with the friends I made at the high school I just entered a few months earlier, or to catch up with the new academic standards. However, in between the homework and the new environment, Saturday afternoonsoccasionallymeantatriptothemesei.
My family’s mesei, or taro patch, was located in Ngemelachel,aquietislandthathousestheport,one oftheisland’spowerplants,andisoftenthoughtofas Koror’s “industrial area.” It was up a hill far away from the rush and bustle of downtown Koror. Other than the occasional crows of chickens or hum of the bugs, therewasaspectacularsunsetatthetopofthishill.
Afterweavingthroughthelonggrassandthepatches that belonged to other families, my cousins and I often played in these fields or helped the adults pull diokang, or tapioca, out of the dirt. Their roots grow deep in the ground, and I often fall on my back in the dirtifIletgotooearly.
There were also activities by my own high school where all girls had to learn to cook the taro and tapiocafromstarttofinish.
Afulldayofcookingreallymeantawholedaytositin a circle with my friends and to tell stories and even gossipoverpeelingtaro,washingthedirtoff,andtosit in front of a fire and throw wood in so it does not die out.
Ifmyparentsdidnothavethetimetoharvestorcook the taro, which can often take a full day, we would all go to the local markets, or makit to get ready-to-peel taro and to catch up with the old ladies, who were oftenrelatedtousanyway.
With all these experiences, I have come to realize not only the practical knowledge of harvesting and preparation but the power that food has itself. Food representsmuchmorethanameansofsurvival,buta way to connect with others through a tradition as old astime.
Foodhasalwaysservedasafoundationofsociety,and the activity of hunting and foraging not only ensured a meal to be sustained with but an opportunity to fosteradeeperconnectionwithothersandultimately defineourownculture.
Cultivating taro is physically labor intensive, and preparing taro to be edible is a time-consuming and delicate process that is based on several factors such asthesizeoftheplantharvestedaswellasknowledge ofhowlongthatplanthassatunderground.
The discipline, attention to detail, and concern for others is not just a characteristic that defines the women who maintain these farms, but also values of thePalauanculture.
Even with these traditions once being passed down orally and are now able to be documented with moderntechnology,theseprecioustraditionsfacethe threatofextinction.
Oneofthebiggestissuesthattaropatchesfaceisthe threatofclimatechange.
Asglobaltemperaturesrise,plants become more stressed and water becomes more difficult to gather, the result is a higher chance of crop failure. Moving away from where water to come by may not be of so much help, as unusual weather patterns can erode coastal areas deeming them unfit toplanttaro.
In addition to taro harvesting becoming difficult due to global warming, the automation of food production sparks a larger conversation of the role of these traditions if there are “better” or moreconvenientoptionsavailable.
Inaworldwherefoodcanbemass produced in metric tons in the blink of an eye and sold for cheap at the nearest grocery store, the most convenient option seems likethemostenticing.
The introduction of Western food has brought over American ideals to our islands. Canned dishes, instant food that can be served right after a few minutes in the microwave, and food that prioritizes flavor and marketing appeal over nutritional value exemplified the convenience and flashiness that conflicts with the island’ssimplicityandmodesty.
With American influence even seeping into something as crucial as our diets, the usage of traditional methods in spite of industrialized food production can be seen as a resistance to Western values and a testament to our righttofoodsovereignty.
Food sovereignty refers to our right to access healthy and culturally appropriate food producedsustainably.
The ability to establish our own food systems, even with something as simple as taro, grants incredible power to us Micronesians and allows us to not onlytoreclaimpartsofourculture we may have lost to colonization but to practically practice our cultureinasustainableway.
For example, traditional food production in Palau is not selfish, Palauans harvest what is needed and even with a surplus, is often shared with extended family or sold. A major tenet of the Palauan culture is respect, not only for other people but for the land that sustainsus.
In the age of automation and efficiency, food can be mass produced by machines in excess,
not only generating massive amounts of waste, but severing a tiebetweenhumansandfood.
Food holds the power to bring people together, pass along not onlyskillsneededtocurateagood harvest but to unite people, whether in survival or to bond as friends and family but now for the sakeofresistanceandsovereignty.
Food is not only a form of sustenance, but a reflection of cultural experiences, fond memories, and one of the most important social experiences one could encounter. Uniting in the labor of harvesting, of preparing, cooking, and the joy of eating together is arguably one of life’s mostcrucialexperiences.