NO REST FOR THE AWAKE - MINAGAHET CHAMORRO

I put this together for a Chamoru language curriculum project I was working on a few years ago. It was meant to be an appendix to go along with other cultural components about learning Chamoru. The list started with the work of Malia Ramirez and then I added on a few more here and there. It is by no means meant to be exhaustive or complete. Chamoru family names are still evolving, although perhaps not at the rate they have previously. For every Chamoru, there are a number of names they can claim, but unless they are running for office, tend to only invoke one or two when representing their identity.  I returned to this list recently while discussing the topic in one of my Chamoru language classes. For many Chamorus in the states or who grow up on Guam without much emphasis on their heritage, they assume that their "family name" is their last name. I have had many troubling conversations with young people who assert that their clan name is "Leon Guerrero" or &qu;

This article about my grandfather, the Chamorro Master Blacksmith Joaquin Flores Lujan or "Tun Jack" was first published in the Pacific Daily News on October 14 and October 21, 2016. I have been missing my grandparents like crazy since they passed away in 2013 and 2015, and sometimes only writing about them can help me overcome the sadness I feel.  December is always difficult, as this is the month that grandma, Elizabeth Flores Lujan, passed away three years ago. This is also a difficult month emotionally because of all the family emphasis and for Chamorros, the fact that December 8th represents when our elders, i mamparientes-ta, i manamko'-ta, were swallowed into the beast of a great war.  I keep writing about my grandparents because I find myself remembering things that I struggle with at other times. It don't know why that is the case, perhaps it is because I feel more secure in the fact that as I am writing/typing, I am keeping their stories live. Kee

For those thinking about the future of Guam, especially in the context of decolonization, we should stop looking to the United States, but instead look to Palau/Belau. Many of our ideas about decolonization or independence and therefore political possibility are tied to the way we perceive the United States. We see it as being the model for the way a country should live and exist today. We are conditioned in an endless number of ways each day and over the course of our lives here to see the United States as the pinnacle of possibility. That if we are to live anyway, it should be the images we have of it. We look to other large and powerful countries as distant alternatives, but always we see America as being where its at. The way we see America however is far from objective. Our gaze drips with colonial nonsense. When the first discussions on political status change and decolonization started to emerge in Guam, one constant refrain of resistance was the notion that Guam could never b