There are no fees, there is no pressure, but it is simply a space where each week I teach a new grammar lesson, give a list of some new vocabulary words and also help people practice speaking and hearing Chamorro.
I have these classes because although Chamorro is an official language of this island, when first learning to speak it, it can be difficult to find a supportive community to practice with. Each week people share some stories of being helped by family and friends in their efforts, as well as other frustrating stories of cousins who would rather tease then educate or elders who tell them to just stop trying since their Chamorro makes them cringe. A common story is being confronted by someone who doesn’t understand why it might be important to learn or speak Chamorro. English is the dominant tongue on Guam; it is the language which already connects Guam to a prosperous global community of English-speakers, and if there is any language other than English which people should be learning on Guam it should be something like Japanese or Mandarin. In short, don’t learn Chamorro, learn something that could make you some money.
People make a fundamental mistake here in understanding what language represents. Although communication is a primary importance of language, this is not all it serves in our lives. We are not machines that function in simplistic ways, but rather complex beings. As a result, the languages we use and how we use them say just as much about ourselves as what we say to each other. Our languages, even those we claim which we can’t really speak, are foundational components of our identities, both individual and collective. Language is not about reducing things to the simplest ways or the forms which make the most money, but it is a statement of who people are, where they come from, and finally what they value.
The Chamorro language is something unique in this world, and I mean that in more ways than one. I mean it first that it is a unique part of the heritage of this island chain called the Marianas, something that has been here for thousands of years. But it is also unique since it represents the recent history and struggle of the Chamorro people; the ways they have been colonized and adapted to tragic events over the past three centuries. And while many other indigenous and colonized peoples were sadly lost or wiped from the face of the earth, Chamorros have survived and can proudly display their many scars to prove it.
When we ask ourselves questions about the Chamorro language and whether or not we should try to preserve or revitalize it, we are asking ourselves a question about what kind of community we are. This is not solely a question for Chamorros, but something non-Chamorros must also ask themselves. For non-Chamorros who claim Guam as their home, the Chamorro language is part of their heritage as well and is something they have a responsibility to promote and protect. Will we be a place which respects the culture and the heritage of its indigenous people or will we follow the example of places such as the United States, which had almost no respect for its indigenous people? Will we work together to revive and respect the legacy of this island or will we allow it to disappear just because there doesn’t appear to be any short-term financial value to it?
Respect for the Chamorro language and the heritage it represents is a metaphor for a larger respect and care for this precious place in the Pacific. By being a community which honors that heritage and does not throw it away, we are strengthening ourselves. We show to ourselves, to the generations to come and the rest of the world, that we are strong in our understanding of our unique heritage and that we are proud to keep it alive.
MICHAEL LUJAN BEVACQUA
Mangilao, Guam
