Be honest, you probably never heard of Guam before until I told you about it. If you have, you either spent time there because a parent was stationed on one of the bases that occupy 1/4 of our land, you know a friend who lived there or passed by for a vacation, or you spent a lot of time looking up things until you ended up finding Guam. Naturally, since almost no one knows who, what, where, why, and how Guam is they have a plethora of questions and comments about it. For the most part, they’re innocent, but oftentimes the questions and comments can be a little ignorant and hurtful. So I made a list of a few of them.

1. "You speak English? You speak really good English!"

No, I speak Japanese and apparently you do too because you can understand what I’m saying. Yes, we speak English. I mean if you didn’t know we’ve only been a U.S. territory for over a century, which means you kind of need to know how to speak to the people who colonize you, ya feel?

If you said this to me at any time, don’t feel bad, because then I’ll feel bad. But yes, I do speak English well. Like I said, we’re a U.S. territory, which means we should have some knowledge of English. Although Guam has their indigenous language called Chamorro and it’s one of the official languages of the island, it isn’t spoken commonly amongst the youth. I speak English 99.9% of the time with the other .1% being spoken in Chamorro. Even then, that might be an exaggeration on my ability to speak my people’s language.

2. "Do you use cars on Guam? / Do you even need them?"

No, silly! We use wooden carts and water buffalo. If you’re lucky you might have a horse or two!

It is true that Guam is a very small island. But it is also true that it’s big enough that you need an automobile to get around to certain places. Guam is slightly bigger than Milwaukee, I believe. It takes 30 minutes more or less to get from one part of the island to another. I always have to stress this point, because other questions that needn’t be asked are asked because someone didn’t catch it the first few times: we are a U.S. territory. We live in the concrete house, most of the time, we have running water, we have WiFi, Ross, Macy’s, K-Mart, and other wonderful things that you get when you’re associated with the U.S. (except the right to vote for President).

3. "You don't have an accent..."

Well, I can do a pretty darn good southern impression. Unfortunately, we don’t have accents (unless you’re from “down souf”). I really didn’t know that I needed to have one. I’ll work on making one before going back to school.

4. “The language is Chamorroan.”

No, just no. Let me use another ethnicity. For example people from Japan are called Japanese; the language is called Japanese. So, it makes sense that the people are Chamorro and the language can also be called Chamorro.

5. "So, you’re like Hawaiian?"

Si Yu'os Mahalo, but no thanks.

Both people are Pacific Islanders, our respective islands were colonized and are colonized by the U.S., and we have similar values. Besides those things, amongst others, no, I am not “like Hawaiian”. I am Chamorro. If you hadn’t noticed, there’s a slight difference in the spelling of Hawaiian and Chamorro.

(Håfaloha is a combination of håfa adai and aloha, both meaning "hello" in Chamorro and Hawaiian, respectively. The term was made as the name of a store, shown in the picture. They sell shave ice that is to die for.)

6. “____ is happening in America now.”

Again, friends, do not feel upset, but I do find this to be upsetting. Guam celebrates things a day earlier than the U.S. When I would mention it, sometimes people would respond with “____ is/isn’ happening in America now.” I find that hurtful, because Guam is a part of America…sounds like something I said once or twice before. For the love of what ever higher power there is, one of our slogans is “Where America’s Day Begins.” I can go on and on about how Guam is like America at this point, but that would take as long as it took for Guam to establish U.S. citizenship!

7. "Oh, so you can cook!"

This can be stated, asked, or exclaimed with surprise.

I find it distressing, because cannot fathom how someone can cook. Furthermore, some people cannot follow the sacred rule of not touching food until it's finished and ready to be revealed. If you live on Guam, and I'm sure it's true for all Pacific Islands, you will cook. Whether it's smoking the meat from the pig, kadu-ing the chicken that you trapped yesterday, or kelaguen-ing the deer your uncle shot a few hours ago, you will learn to make some bomb food.

(Call me if you want food; I make it for a fee.)

8. "Hey, Guam!"

At the first floor meeting I had, I informed my floor mates that I was from Guam. A couple days later, people started calling me Guam. And if any of the guys on my floor are reading this, don't feel bad, but I'm about to explain why I thought that was one of the most messed-up, ignorant, douche-like things to do. I have a name (which was placed on the door if you didn't notice). I also felt singled out and different from most people since I hadn’t grown up in any of the fifty states.

Because of this, I'd rarely want to interact with many of the guys on my floor. Contact with them was unacceptable, unless absolutely necessary. But, of course, I powered through it and danced my way around my new name. Eventually, I discovered that they did know my name and that most of them were decent guys. So, you're all cool with me. I hold no grudges, unless you did something that makes me want to hold one.

9. "We just need a valid form of identification that shows you're a legal resident of the U.S."

When I got my first paycheck, I decided to cash, because I had not created a bank account with any banks in the U.S. The bank teller informed me that there would be a fee if I don't have an account, so I did the smart thing and decided to open one up. In the process of filling out the paperwork, the teller asked for a valid ID, which resulted in my handing over of my Guam Driver's License. The teller looked at it, told me they'd have to verify it, and proceeded to scan a book of ID's from what I assumed was other States. The teller then returned and said I couldn't use my ID, because it wasn't in their big book of everything; instead, I'd need some other form of identification.

The teller's words were something like: "If you have an American passport, you can use it."

To which I responded: "I have one."

Then she just had to say: "Yeah, sorry about that. We just need a valid form of identification that shows you're a legal resident of the U.S."

I was livid, and kept my anger under control. With a face plastered with irritation and disbelief, I replied: "Oh yes, I have one. I am a citizen of the United States and I have an American passport. Thank you for your time and help."

Following that debacle, I refused to return to the bank for a week or so just because I was so furious at how nonchalantly she said it.

Granted not many people are knowledgeable about Guam and our relationship to America, but I felt insulted. It's not like we're one, if not the only one, of the United State's outposts here in the Pacific. We've been threatened to be bombed by North Korea, to my knowledge, more than once.

Sometimes I wonder why no one knows about Guam or our brothers and sisters, the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands. Everyone knows Hawaii and Puerto Rico and it's always exotic and everything, but it sucks to be from Guam. In fact, I've heard stories where people think Guam is made up and refuse service to Chamorros/Guamanians.

I'm happy that despite all these comments and questions, I have found people who are aware of the impact their words have. They acknowledge the struggles that certain people go through and they support their movements. For example, a vast amount of my friends encouraged me to start a Guam Club at Marquette once I had mentioned it. Although I missed the deadline, they still continue to push me to pursue this idea, because they love hearing about things they don't know. Just like how I urge the people of Guam to open their minds, I do the same for the people I know and will know back at school.