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<h1>An Indigenous Poet on SPAM and Colonialism</h1> <p> </p> <p><iframe frameborder="no" height="300" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/428815371&color=%23ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe></p> <p><strong>SPAM’s Carbon Footprint II</strong></p> <p>SPAM WAS BORN on July 5, 1937, in Austin, Minnesota—<br>the home of Hormel headquarters and the SPAM museum<br>#cubistartyoucaneat. Eight pounds of SPAM die in every<br>Chamorro stomach each year, which is more per capita than<br>any other ethno-intestinal tract in the world. Motto: “Guam is<br>Where the Impure Pork Products of America Begin!”</p> <p>OUR GUTTURAL LOVE of SPAM was born in 1944, when<br>cases of the shiny cans were berthed from aircraft carriers.<br>That fateful day when my grandparents first tasted SPAM<br>is commemorated as the Feast Day of the Immaculate<br>Consumption. <em>St. Hormel, pray for [us]. </em>The rest of the story<br>is a gestational genealogy, a delicious cycle. Sadly, military<br>recruiters are now worried that young Chamorros have<br>become too unhealthy and obese to enlist in the armed forces.</p> <p>MY FOOD PHILOSOPHY is simple: I eat therefore I SPAM. How<br>can I prove that I’m an authentic Indigenous person and not a<br>SPAM script? At this year’s Hormel SPAM Cook-Off in Guam, the<br>Polish-inspired “Pika Pierogi” ousted the “Crispy Wanton Spam<br>Ravioli” for first place. I’ve eaten turkey SPAM, smoke-flavored<br>SPAM, hot and spicy SPAM, garlic SPAM, SPAM lite, Portuguese<br>Sausage flavored SPAM, and more! When did our lives become<br>so complicated and post-modern? WSFWJE? What SPAM Flavor<br>Would Jesus Eat?</p> <p>COME CLOSER, CLOSER, and I will whisper to you, in my sexy<br>voice, “Google the SPAM factory’s dirty little secret.” <em>Oooo<br></em><em>baby here I am, come rub up on my belly like SPAM jelly,<br></em><em>Spam-Spam-Jelly, Spam-Spam Jelly! </em> #mandatorymarley. In the<br>morning, we can bring our SPAM labels to the Sorensen Media<br>Group Offices in Hågatña, and redeem 12 labels for a SPAM<br>shirt and 9 for a SPAM hat. Guam is an acronym for “Give Us<br>American Meat.”</p> <p>MY FAVORITE SCENE in John Steinbeck’s <em>The Grapes of Wrath<br></em>(b.1939) is when the tractor driver takes a lunch break near a<br>tenant house and eats his sandwich of white bread, pickle,<br>cheese, and SPAM. The curious, starving children surround the<br>driver, watching his hands carry the SPAM to his mouth.</p> <p>ONCE UPON SPIRAL TIME, a Chamorro brother and<br>sister refused to eat SPAM, so their Authentic Chamorro<br>Grandmother banished them into the diaspora and cursed<br>them to a life without meat. The vegetarian siblings migrated<br>to Minnesota, where they opened the world’s first vegan<br>butcher shop and sold meatless meats at farmers markets<br>and pop-up events. They dedicated their lives to creating the<br>perfect vegan SPAM. They tried vital wheat gluten. They tried<br>garbanzo tapioca flour. They tried peanut butter. “The flavor’s<br>good but the texture’s off,” they say in unison. “SPAM is just a<br>difficult whale to catch.” If they succeed, I will never eat it.</p> <p><span>This poem first appeared in from <em>unincorporated territory [lukao] </em> (Omnidawn Publishing, 2017).</span></p> <p></p> <p><iframe frameborder="no" height="300" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/437920335&color=%23ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe></p> <p><strong>The Pacific Written Tradition</strong></p> <p>In 2010, I read aloud from my new book<br>to an English class at one of Guam’s<br>public high schools. After the reading, I</p> <p>notice a student crying. “Whats wrong?”|<br>I ask. She says, “I’ve never seen our culture<br>in a book before. I just thought we weren’t</p> <p>worthy of literature.” I wonder how many<br>young islanders have dived into the depths<br>of a book, only to find bleached coral and</p> <p>emptiness. <em>They</em> teach us that missionaries<br>were the first readers in the Pacific because<br>they could decipher the strange signs</p> <p>of the Bible. <em>They</em> teach us that missionaries<br>were the first authors in the Pacific because<br>they possessed the authority of written words.</p> <p>Today, studies show that islander students read<br>and write below grade level. “It’s natural,”<br>they claim. “Your ancestors were an illiterate,</p> <p>oral people.” <em>Do not believe their claims</em>.<br>Our ancestors deciphered signs in nature,<br>interpreted star formations and sun positions,</p> <p>cloud and wind patterns, wave currents and<br>fish migrations. Always remember what navigator<br>Papa Mau once said: “if you can read the ocean</p> <p>you will never be lost.” Now let me tell you<br>about the Pacific written tradition, about how<br>our ancestors tattooed their skin with defiant</p> <p>scripts of intricately inked genealogy, stories<br>of plumage and pain. Or how our ancestors carved<br>epics into hard wood with a sharpened point,</p> <p>their hands, and the pressure and responsibility<br>of memory. Or how our ancestors stenciled<br>hieroglyphic poems on cave walls with clay, fire,</p> <p>and smoke. So the next time someone tells you<br>islanders were illiterate, teach them<br>about our visual literacies, about how we</p> <p>still read and write the intertextual sacredness<br>of all things. And always remember: <em>if you<br></em><em>can write the ocean we will never be silenced</em>.</p> <p><span>This poem first appeared in <em>Cream City Review</em> (University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, Spring/Summer 2016).</span></p> <p>This article originally appeared in <a href="https://www.yesmagazine.org">Yes! Magazine</a> at <a href="https://www.yesmagazine.org/issue/decolonize/2018/05/01/an-indigenous-poet-on-spam-and-colonialism">https://www.yesmagazine.org/issue/decolonize/2018/05/01/an-indigenous-poet-on-spam-and-colonialism</a>.</p><link href="https://www.yesmagazine.org/issue/decolonize/2018/05/01/an-indigenous-poet-on-spam-and-colonialism" rel="canonical"/><p>Yes! Magazine is a nonprofit, independent media organization dedicated to telling stories of ... . Learn more at <a href="https://www.yesmagazine.org">Yes! Magazine</a></p><img id="republication-tracker-tool-source" src="https://www.yesmagazine.org/?republication-pixel=true&post=14735&ga4=G-74QJNNY44Z" style="width:1px;height:1px;">
An Indigenous Poet on SPAM and Colonialism SPAM’s Carbon Footprint II SPAM WAS BORN on July 5, 1937, in Austin, Minnesota—the home of Hormel headquarters and the SPAM museum#cubistartyoucaneat. Eight pounds of SPAM die in everyChamorro stomach each year, which is more per capita thanany other ethno-intestinal tract in the world. Motto: “Guam isWhere the Impure Pork Products of America Begin!” OUR GUTTURAL LOVE of SPAM was born in 1944, whencases of the shiny cans were berthed from aircraft carriers.That fateful day when my grandparents first tasted SPAMis commemorated as the Feast Day of the ImmaculateConsumption. St. Hormel, pray for [us]. The rest of the storyis a gestational genealogy, a delicious cycle. Sadly, militaryrecruiters are now worried that young Chamorros havebecome too unhealthy and obese to enlist in the armed forces. MY FOOD PHILOSOPHY is simple: I eat therefore I SPAM. Howcan I prove that I’m an authentic Indigenous person and not aSPAM script? At this year’s Hormel SPAM Cook-Off in Guam, thePolish-inspired “Pika Pierogi” ousted the “Crispy Wanton SpamRavioli” for first place. I’ve eaten turkey SPAM, smoke-flavoredSPAM, hot and spicy SPAM, garlic SPAM, SPAM lite, PortugueseSausage flavored SPAM, and more! When did our lives becomeso complicated and post-modern? WSFWJE? What SPAM FlavorWould Jesus Eat? COME CLOSER, CLOSER, and I will whisper to you, in my sexyvoice, “Google the SPAM factory’s dirty little secret.” Oooobaby here I am, come rub up on my belly like SPAM jelly,Spam-Spam-Jelly, Spam-Spam Jelly! #mandatorymarley. In themorning, we can bring our SPAM labels to the Sorensen MediaGroup Offices in Hågatña, and redeem 12 labels for a SPAMshirt and 9 for a SPAM hat. Guam is an acronym for “Give UsAmerican Meat.” MY FAVORITE SCENE in John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath(b.1939) is when the tractor driver takes a lunch break near atenant house and eats his sandwich of white bread, pickle,cheese, and SPAM. The curious, starving children surround thedriver, watching his hands carry the SPAM to his mouth. ONCE UPON SPIRAL TIME, a Chamorro brother andsister refused to eat SPAM, so their Authentic ChamorroGrandmother banished them into the diaspora and cursedthem to a life without meat. The vegetarian siblings migratedto Minnesota, where they opened the world’s first veganbutcher shop and sold meatless meats at farmers marketsand pop-up events. They dedicated their lives to creating theperfect vegan SPAM. They tried vital wheat gluten. They triedgarbanzo tapioca flour. They tried peanut butter. “The flavor’sgood but the texture’s off,” they say in unison. “SPAM is just adifficult whale to catch.” If they succeed, I will never eat it. This poem first appeared in from unincorporated territory [lukao] (Omnidawn Publishing, 2017). The Pacific Written Tradition In 2010, I read aloud from my new bookto an English class at one of Guam’spublic high schools. After the reading, I notice a student crying. “Whats wrong?”|I ask. She says, “I’ve never seen our culturein a book before. I just thought we weren’t worthy of literature.” I wonder how manyyoung islanders have dived into the depthsof a book, only to find bleached coral and emptiness. They teach us that missionarieswere the first readers in the Pacific becausethey could decipher the strange signs of the Bible. They teach us that missionarieswere the first authors in the Pacific becausethey possessed the authority of written words. Today, studies show that islander students readand write below grade level. “It’s natural,”they claim. “Your ancestors were an illiterate, oral people.” Do not believe their claims.Our ancestors deciphered signs in nature,interpreted star formations and sun positions, cloud and wind patterns, wave currents andfish migrations. Always remember what navigatorPapa Mau once said: “if you can read the ocean you will never be lost.” Now let me tell youabout the Pacific written tradition, about howour ancestors tattooed their skin with defiant scripts of intricately inked genealogy, storiesof plumage and pain. Or how our ancestors carvedepics into hard wood with a sharpened point, their hands, and the pressure and responsibilityof memory. Or how our ancestors stenciledhieroglyphic poems on cave walls with clay, fire, and smoke. So the next time someone tells youislanders were illiterate, teach themabout our visual literacies, about how we still read and write the intertextual sacrednessof all things. And always remember: if youcan write the ocean we will never be silenced. This poem first appeared in Cream City Review (University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, Spring/Summer 2016).
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