Lamentation, ad nauseam
--
This being the fourth anniversary of our arrival in this error, I have endeavored to regain a perspective on the whole. This has not been easy, and is still ongoing, however, I feel slightly more confident than I have felt in a long while - though it is going to be a long struggle and, it seems, one without end.
One would think after such a length of time as four years, acclimatization would have been achieved long ago, but this, it turns out, is not the case. Acculturation requires willingness on both the side of the newcomer as well as the "local".
I remember telling my students in Boston, students who came from all over the globe to live and work and raise families in this country, that they are welcome here. I told them that they are the latest in a long line of new peoples to settle in this place, my home. I told them that they have every right to be here that we have, and that our ancestors had. (Here, I refer to: "your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free; the wretched refuse of your teeming shore." )
I told them that if anyone were to tell them to go back to their country and that they didn't belong here or that they weren't welcome here that they should stand up for themselves and hold in their hearts and minds what I told them.
They DO belong here; and many of my students have said as much to those ignorant fools who are blinded by selfish and ludicrous hatred and fear. My students have stood up for themselves, and this inspired me.
It was with this experience in mind that I came to this place in the Pacific. For the past four years, I have tried to feel at home, tried to feel like I belonged. However, belonging in this place is not possible for me. I am too sensitive to the harshness with which I am regarded. I smile when my eyes meet a local's eyes, and my friendly gesture is met with a frigid stare, or I am ignored entirely. Whenever locals interact with me, they are cold and unsmiling, unless, of course, I am in Waikiki. Very few people here have ever made me feel welcome in any way. Often I can't help but feel their hatred for me in their looks, their actions. I have seen their hatred directly in our interactions with the people in the park across from our house. We have been called "haole" in the same way that a red-neck might say "nigger" to a black person in the South. We have been threatened and told to leave, that we didn't belong here. Every time this happens, I try to look past it, try to reason that this person does not represent the majority of people who live here. But four years of experience with people across this island have shown me that the majority do, indeed, hate me because of the color of my skin and because of where I am from. No matter how local I dress, hold myself and act, I will always be someone who does not fit in. In fact, the more I try to be "local", the more despised I seem to become.
I have stood up for myself many a time. I have done what I told my students to do. I have voiced my opinion, my belief that we all belong here, that we all have every right to be here. But being surrounded all the time with ignorance and hatred is very taxing on the soul. This constant feeling of utter disdain on the part of the "locals" has made this period of time the worst of my life, and each day it is a struggle to carry on. What a shame that such a physically beautiful place is so offset by the ugliness of its inhabitants. Having lived in the Pacific before, on a different set of islands far from here, I know what is possible; I know what "the Pacific Way" can be.
This place has broken my heart.
This being the fourth anniversary of our arrival in this error, I have endeavored to regain a perspective on the whole. This has not been easy, and is still ongoing, however, I feel slightly more confident than I have felt in a long while - though it is going to be a long struggle and, it seems, one without end.
One would think after such a length of time as four years, acclimatization would have been achieved long ago, but this, it turns out, is not the case. Acculturation requires willingness on both the side of the newcomer as well as the "local".
I remember telling my students in Boston, students who came from all over the globe to live and work and raise families in this country, that they are welcome here. I told them that they are the latest in a long line of new peoples to settle in this place, my home. I told them that they have every right to be here that we have, and that our ancestors had. (Here, I refer to: "your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free; the wretched refuse of your teeming shore." )
I told them that if anyone were to tell them to go back to their country and that they didn't belong here or that they weren't welcome here that they should stand up for themselves and hold in their hearts and minds what I told them.
They DO belong here; and many of my students have said as much to those ignorant fools who are blinded by selfish and ludicrous hatred and fear. My students have stood up for themselves, and this inspired me.
It was with this experience in mind that I came to this place in the Pacific. For the past four years, I have tried to feel at home, tried to feel like I belonged. However, belonging in this place is not possible for me. I am too sensitive to the harshness with which I am regarded. I smile when my eyes meet a local's eyes, and my friendly gesture is met with a frigid stare, or I am ignored entirely. Whenever locals interact with me, they are cold and unsmiling, unless, of course, I am in Waikiki. Very few people here have ever made me feel welcome in any way. Often I can't help but feel their hatred for me in their looks, their actions. I have seen their hatred directly in our interactions with the people in the park across from our house. We have been called "haole" in the same way that a red-neck might say "nigger" to a black person in the South. We have been threatened and told to leave, that we didn't belong here. Every time this happens, I try to look past it, try to reason that this person does not represent the majority of people who live here. But four years of experience with people across this island have shown me that the majority do, indeed, hate me because of the color of my skin and because of where I am from. No matter how local I dress, hold myself and act, I will always be someone who does not fit in. In fact, the more I try to be "local", the more despised I seem to become.
I have stood up for myself many a time. I have done what I told my students to do. I have voiced my opinion, my belief that we all belong here, that we all have every right to be here. But being surrounded all the time with ignorance and hatred is very taxing on the soul. This constant feeling of utter disdain on the part of the "locals" has made this period of time the worst of my life, and each day it is a struggle to carry on. What a shame that such a physically beautiful place is so offset by the ugliness of its inhabitants. Having lived in the Pacific before, on a different set of islands far from here, I know what is possible; I know what "the Pacific Way" can be.
This place has broken my heart.
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