Writing has been a healing space for Alaina, and a way to connect with her ancestors. Through her poetry, she has been able to translate her internal thoughts into the external with the help of those who guide her. Through her poetry, she is able to share the complexities of what it means to be an Indigenous woman of Oceania, Chicana, and a proud Boricua. She hopes to continue honoring the legacies of those who came before her through her writing, to ensure the sustainability of generational ancestral knowings.
PÅGAT
Beautiful right?
Excuse me for a second while I express myself in the ways that my rage wants to lead the way in this piece of writing and how I feel about hiking in a sacred space and making our way to the roaring waves where our ancestors’ spirits lay ~ yes ~ best believe that on our way to the roaring waves we see hella haoles ~ even haoles disrespecting the caves ~ yes ~ best believe we smelt cigarette in the fresh water caves where we wanted to pay our respects on our way to the coast where the waters express their rage ~ and yes it feels we are the only CHamorus in this moment today, outsiders luring each other to see who dares to take a swim today, so I told them straight
up I don’t know if you wanna do that today, look down and see the roaring waters today, if you do that I guess you gotta price to pay, for any disrespect you gave the ancestors whose spirits are resting inside the fresh water caves ~ yes ~ best believe it’s me and my uncle chillin, posted up in the fresh water cave, where he lead the way in the pitch black waist deep fresh water cave ~ yes
~ best believe my brother lied to the military who wanted to take a peak inside the fresh water cave because ~ yes ~ best believe we deserve alone time in this sacred space ~ yes ~ best believe you outsiders better respect this space ~ because no, it is not yours, no matter what typa label you placed on our sacred space ~ it’s in the translation of the name of our island ~ yes ~ WE HAVE ~ we have rights to protect this space ad tell you when disrespect has been met in our sacred space ~ don’t forget where you are and who you are in the land that is rightfully ours ~ yes ~ best believe we gon’ selfishly selflessly protect what is ours ~ GUÅHAN.
To Tåsi
How are you so beautiful? You call me in with each wave that touches the shore.
She’s calling you. Closer & closer.
I move forward, I move back. Looking into the distance waiting for a tear to rise within my eye. Only to overflow & dance down my skin.
All of my tears are resting in the sea. Waiting. Waiting for what though? The perfect wave? The perfect time to run towards the abyss? The openness? The freedom?
Åhe. There is no perfect time. So, nen, breathe. You are exactly where you are supposed to be. Sand plants feet.
Billions of grains working in unison. Ten toes down, I ain’t going nowhere.
Ain’t it wild that the ocean reminds us how we too are both the grains & the sea? With all that exists within Brother ~ Mother Earth, How do they carry it all?
With all the joy & pain happening everywhere all at once within Creator, I look at where the sky & sea meet & see the home of the tears of each feeling to exist.
Now we can wade in the sea ~ Liberated so free ~
Feelings of peace ~ Thanks to Tåsi.
Our beloved Teresia Teaiwa once said, “We sweat & cry sea salt, so we know that the ocean is really in our blood”.
It is tah-sea who reminds us to see. It is Tåsi who reminds us to feel. It is Tåsi who reminds us to be patient. It is Tåsi who reminds us to love. It is Tåsi who connects us to each other. It is Tåsi who teaches us respect.
Tåsi is home ~ which calls upon all homes. Where Borikén meets Guåhan meets México & swivels to ~ The Bay to LA Where each day of this heavy weight ~ ISÅT on the sand. ISÅT in Brigida’s whip. ISÅT with TÅSI.
She heals. She teaches. She challenges.
Hånom dances as the body follows. Feet floating above the surface. Pulling and pushing as she reminds us ~ She grounds.
We speak zero words, But words remain spoken.