Doing Time in Niue
How I escaped CYA to help my family
Commentary, Sonia N. Filimona,
YO! Youth Outlook, May 18, 2006
Back when I was 16, I was on probation for selling dope and doing time for attempted murder at Hillcrest Juvenile Hall. I was sentenced to 18 months in the California Youth Authority but I didn’t feel like I had done anything wrong. Everything in my life was awful but then I was allowed to do my time on the other side of the world and everything changed.
You see, the girl I got into the confrontation with was a senior but I was only in middle school. At the time, I hung around skaters, listened to punk rock music and bleached my hair with different dyes. Everyday after school me and my friends would go to Burger King to eat but this bully named Tasha from East Palo Alto would take my stuff. She took my food, money, jewelry, shoes, walkman and pager. One day, I decided I was going to stand up to this girl. I was scared and already in tears, but I knew I had to do this. We met at the tracks and began to fight but it wasn’t fair because we were surrounded by people who were straight instigating. Before I knew what really happened, I saw blood and stopped swinging my arms. But it wasn't my blood – it was Tasha’s. She just lay there like she was dead. Her friends took off running and my friends were telling me to run because the police were coming. But I didn't want to leave because I was part of the problem and I didn't mean for this to happen. So, I ended up staying with Tasha and riding in the ambulance with her to the hospital. I was arrested for two counts, one was deadly weapon (my hands and feet) and the second one was attempted murder. I felt like I was the victim because all I did was defend myself.
I was sentenced to 18 months in CYA. I was really not looking forward to it. But during that time my grandmother was sick and my family asked if I could come help my grandfather take care of her. They lived on a small island named Niue, near New Zealand. You see, my family’s ethnicity is Samoan and Niuean. When I went back to court, my probation officer made a request for me to spend 18 months in another country with my grandparents. The judge agreed to let me go but on one condition: that I didn’t return back to the United States during the entire 18 months. I wasn’t even released to my mom’s custody until the day I left. I had to be escorted by an officer from Hillcrest to the San Francisco Airport. When we arrived at the airport, the officer unshackled me and released me to the custody of my mom, who was in tears because she was sending her third oldest away for a year and a half. My friends and family had all come to the airport to see me off and we were all crying. This was my first time in my life that I was being separated from my loved ones at such a great distance and my first time on a plane. I remember that the plane was so loud that my ears wouldn’t stop ringing. I felt sad and lonely to be flying away from everything I knew, all alone.
When I arrived in New Zealand, I spent a few weeks with my aunts and uncles before flying to Niue. I was at my Auntie’s house first. Her oldest daughter Pricilla came home from school and told her mom that she was taking me to town. At first, I thought it was a club called “Town” but it was just their downtown. They also had a big arcade and lots of youngsters were chilling at the bus stop. Every time I spoke or said a word they thought I was weird but that’s how I felt about them. They acted nothing like the kids from the States, plus they had better English then we do. But their dress code had to go, cause they were not matching! After that I spent two weeks with my uncle and his family. They took me up North to meet the Maori people of New Zealand. I met some kids with no shoes on. I asked where their shoes were at and they told me that they didn’t wear shoes, unless they were going to town. When you greet a Maori person – instead of shaking their hands – you put your noses together and breathe for 30 seconds.
My Uncle Tavita’s oldest daughter Vanessa took me to a Polynesian Festival to watch my cousin Pricilla dance. Then after the festival, we went to her friend’s house for a bar-b-q, with no parents or adults there. I told my cousin I didn’t want to be there cause I felt like we were sneaking to this party filled with gang bangers and troublemakers. Her boyfriend was one of them. She told me that if I go back to the house, she would have to come with me so. I told her I would stay but not that long. A fight broke out between her boyfriend and another fellow over a stupid color. I remember thinking: “Damn, that’s a shame.” The whole situation took me back down memory lane and reminded me of what was messed up back home. The only thing different was that they were all Polynesian with no respect for themselves. When we got back to the house, my cousin wanted me to lie for her but I told her I don’t tell lies. I just went along with her story about us being at dinner with her friend’s family. It ended up that my flight to Niue was the next day, so after I packed my stuff and thanked my uncle for letting me stay in his home. Secretly, I was glad to be getting away from the drama. I didn’t need anymore trouble.
When the plane landed in Niue, I saw my grandma in a wheel chair, my grandpa holding a cane and my little cousin Michael standing next to a taxi cab. I hugged and kissed my Nana and Papa and I gave my cousin a dap. We than got in a cab heading back to our village called Liku. As we pulled up to the house, there were six men right across the road drinking and making jokes. I asked my Nana who they were and she told me that four of them were my cousins and the other two were friends. She also said that everyone who lived in this village was related to each other. I felt untouchable because I had family surrounding me like back home.
The first thing I did in Liku was go swimming in the Pacific Ocean with my cousin Michael. The water was warm and I could feel the fish swimming next to my legs.
“Have you ever threw a stick an caught a fish?” my cousin asked me. “Nah, we go to the fish market or Safeway to get our fish,” I said. “What is Safeway, a hospital?” he asked. I began to laugh
As we were walking home there was hecka flies on our legs and Michael said, “Don’t worry, it’s natural. They don’t bite.” But I was in shock. I ran back to the house and told my Papa and he started laughing at me. My Nana told me that they were just attracted to the water from the sea. She told me that once I took a shower, they would fly away. I stepped in the shower and asked how to turn on the hot water. My Nana yelled in that there was none. And there really wasn’t any. They shower in cold water unless you boil the water, fill a bucket up with half hot and cold, then you get a cup and a chair to sit on while you wash and rinse your body. My Papa said the life I live in the United States is an easy life, but the life here is hard.
And it really was. My Nana asked me what I wanted to eat and I told her chicken. My cousin showed me how to kill a chicken in the backyard with a stone, pluck its feathers and then cook it in a hole in the backyard with wood and stones. To wash clothes, you have to boil water and use bar soap. On Fridays at 6 a.m., it was mandatory for everyone in the village to go to church. On Saturdays, girls had to stay home to clean and cook for the family while the boys were in the field, killing pigs for Sunday dinner. And on Sundays, it was a must for everyone on the island to attend church and after church you had to go home to prepare the food. When you were done you could go to sleep and read a book. But you couldn’t clean, drink or play any games on this day because Sunday was supposed to be a holy day and not for play.
I learned a lot when I was there. I learned how to make a Samoan mat, a basket, a candy necklace and a broom made from coconut leaves. But the best part about this small island was being in the presence of my grandparents and learning new things everyday. The worst part was the old ladies who gossiped everyday about everyone. The only friend I had was this girl name Melissa who had a baby at the age of 13 and everybody and they momma had something to say bout hanging with her. They said I would turn out the same way as her, but they were wrong. I didn't have time for boys, plus I was scared that they were related to me somehow. In so many ways, me and my grandparents connected so well. They understood me when I was upset and didn't know how to express it. Of course I missed my family and my city, but I experienced a whole new life.
Well, after being on this small island for 16 months, I returned to the United States. I was in shock when I saw all my brothers and sisters. I started to cry because I was happy to see them. My baby sister kept saying I had a funny accent, but I didn’t really, it was just the different words I was using when I spoke. And when I got home, I felt weird, like I didn’t belong there. I called my Nana and Papa to tell them I made it home. When I heard their voice, my eyes were filled with tears and I said wanted to come home. I gave the phone to my mom and said: “Please send me back home.” She looked at me and told me she needed me. I said, “No, you don’t. They need me more.” But then life started up again. I started my freshman year at Down Town High and life went on.
Now its 2006 and I wish I would have gone back because I lost my Papa this year. He was 96 years old and now my Nana is all alone. That’s why I’m going to return back home where I belong and build my grandma a house. My family and I are planning to return back home in February of 2007. I can’t wait.
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You see, the girl I got into the confrontation with was a senior but I was only in middle school. At the time, I hung around skaters, listened to punk rock music and bleached my hair with different dyes. Everyday after school me and my friends would go to Burger King to eat but this bully named Tasha from East Palo Alto would take my stuff. She took my food, money, jewelry, shoes, walkman and pager. One day, I decided I was going to stand up to this girl. I was scared and already in tears, but I knew I had to do this. We met at the tracks and began to fight but it wasn’t fair because we were surrounded by people who were straight instigating. Before I knew what really happened, I saw blood and stopped swinging my arms. But it wasn't my blood – it was Tasha’s. She just lay there like she was dead. Her friends took off running and my friends were telling me to run because the police were coming. But I didn't want to leave because I was part of the problem and I didn't mean for this to happen. So, I ended up staying with Tasha and riding in the ambulance with her to the hospital. I was arrested for two counts, one was deadly weapon (my hands and feet) and the second one was attempted murder. I felt like I was the victim because all I did was defend myself.
I was sentenced to 18 months in CYA. I was really not looking forward to it. But during that time my grandmother was sick and my family asked if I could come help my grandfather take care of her. They lived on a small island named Niue, near New Zealand. You see, my family’s ethnicity is Samoan and Niuean. When I went back to court, my probation officer made a request for me to spend 18 months in another country with my grandparents. The judge agreed to let me go but on one condition: that I didn’t return back to the United States during the entire 18 months. I wasn’t even released to my mom’s custody until the day I left. I had to be escorted by an officer from Hillcrest to the San Francisco Airport. When we arrived at the airport, the officer unshackled me and released me to the custody of my mom, who was in tears because she was sending her third oldest away for a year and a half. My friends and family had all come to the airport to see me off and we were all crying. This was my first time in my life that I was being separated from my loved ones at such a great distance and my first time on a plane. I remember that the plane was so loud that my ears wouldn’t stop ringing. I felt sad and lonely to be flying away from everything I knew, all alone.
When I arrived in New Zealand, I spent a few weeks with my aunts and uncles before flying to Niue. I was at my Auntie’s house first. Her oldest daughter Pricilla came home from school and told her mom that she was taking me to town. At first, I thought it was a club called “Town” but it was just their downtown. They also had a big arcade and lots of youngsters were chilling at the bus stop. Every time I spoke or said a word they thought I was weird but that’s how I felt about them. They acted nothing like the kids from the States, plus they had better English then we do. But their dress code had to go, cause they were not matching! After that I spent two weeks with my uncle and his family. They took me up North to meet the Maori people of New Zealand. I met some kids with no shoes on. I asked where their shoes were at and they told me that they didn’t wear shoes, unless they were going to town. When you greet a Maori person – instead of shaking their hands – you put your noses together and breathe for 30 seconds.
My Uncle Tavita’s oldest daughter Vanessa took me to a Polynesian Festival to watch my cousin Pricilla dance. Then after the festival, we went to her friend’s house for a bar-b-q, with no parents or adults there. I told my cousin I didn’t want to be there cause I felt like we were sneaking to this party filled with gang bangers and troublemakers. Her boyfriend was one of them. She told me that if I go back to the house, she would have to come with me so. I told her I would stay but not that long. A fight broke out between her boyfriend and another fellow over a stupid color. I remember thinking: “Damn, that’s a shame.” The whole situation took me back down memory lane and reminded me of what was messed up back home. The only thing different was that they were all Polynesian with no respect for themselves. When we got back to the house, my cousin wanted me to lie for her but I told her I don’t tell lies. I just went along with her story about us being at dinner with her friend’s family. It ended up that my flight to Niue was the next day, so after I packed my stuff and thanked my uncle for letting me stay in his home. Secretly, I was glad to be getting away from the drama. I didn’t need anymore trouble.
When the plane landed in Niue, I saw my grandma in a wheel chair, my grandpa holding a cane and my little cousin Michael standing next to a taxi cab. I hugged and kissed my Nana and Papa and I gave my cousin a dap. We than got in a cab heading back to our village called Liku. As we pulled up to the house, there were six men right across the road drinking and making jokes. I asked my Nana who they were and she told me that four of them were my cousins and the other two were friends. She also said that everyone who lived in this village was related to each other. I felt untouchable because I had family surrounding me like back home.
The first thing I did in Liku was go swimming in the Pacific Ocean with my cousin Michael. The water was warm and I could feel the fish swimming next to my legs.
“Have you ever threw a stick an caught a fish?” my cousin asked me. “Nah, we go to the fish market or Safeway to get our fish,” I said. “What is Safeway, a hospital?” he asked. I began to laugh
As we were walking home there was hecka flies on our legs and Michael said, “Don’t worry, it’s natural. They don’t bite.” But I was in shock. I ran back to the house and told my Papa and he started laughing at me. My Nana told me that they were just attracted to the water from the sea. She told me that once I took a shower, they would fly away. I stepped in the shower and asked how to turn on the hot water. My Nana yelled in that there was none. And there really wasn’t any. They shower in cold water unless you boil the water, fill a bucket up with half hot and cold, then you get a cup and a chair to sit on while you wash and rinse your body. My Papa said the life I live in the United States is an easy life, but the life here is hard.
And it really was. My Nana asked me what I wanted to eat and I told her chicken. My cousin showed me how to kill a chicken in the backyard with a stone, pluck its feathers and then cook it in a hole in the backyard with wood and stones. To wash clothes, you have to boil water and use bar soap. On Fridays at 6 a.m., it was mandatory for everyone in the village to go to church. On Saturdays, girls had to stay home to clean and cook for the family while the boys were in the field, killing pigs for Sunday dinner. And on Sundays, it was a must for everyone on the island to attend church and after church you had to go home to prepare the food. When you were done you could go to sleep and read a book. But you couldn’t clean, drink or play any games on this day because Sunday was supposed to be a holy day and not for play.
I learned a lot when I was there. I learned how to make a Samoan mat, a basket, a candy necklace and a broom made from coconut leaves. But the best part about this small island was being in the presence of my grandparents and learning new things everyday. The worst part was the old ladies who gossiped everyday about everyone. The only friend I had was this girl name Melissa who had a baby at the age of 13 and everybody and they momma had something to say bout hanging with her. They said I would turn out the same way as her, but they were wrong. I didn't have time for boys, plus I was scared that they were related to me somehow. In so many ways, me and my grandparents connected so well. They understood me when I was upset and didn't know how to express it. Of course I missed my family and my city, but I experienced a whole new life.
Well, after being on this small island for 16 months, I returned to the United States. I was in shock when I saw all my brothers and sisters. I started to cry because I was happy to see them. My baby sister kept saying I had a funny accent, but I didn’t really, it was just the different words I was using when I spoke. And when I got home, I felt weird, like I didn’t belong there. I called my Nana and Papa to tell them I made it home. When I heard their voice, my eyes were filled with tears and I said wanted to come home. I gave the phone to my mom and said: “Please send me back home.” She looked at me and told me she needed me. I said, “No, you don’t. They need me more.” But then life started up again. I started my freshman year at Down Town High and life went on.
Now its 2006 and I wish I would have gone back because I lost my Papa this year. He was 96 years old and now my Nana is all alone. That’s why I’m going to return back home where I belong and build my grandma a house. My family and I are planning to return back home in February of 2007. I can’t wait.
1 of 1
Tru dat to the hardship we go thru when being on that rock of paradise,,,,
Interesting story !!!!!
Look forward to seeing u back on that Rock aka NIUE (Liku-Tamahaleleka)
Take Care Love Cilla & Damien-Lee
Koe Kia (bye 4 now)
I loved reading about your experience in the islands! Sometimes we Polynesians here in the States forget the value of connecting with the core values of our culture.
Sadly, it's because mainstream society tells us that our culture is irrelevant, unimportant or that it offers nothing of value.
The conclusion of your story disproves the cynics and validates the fact that the core value of alofa/aloha/'ofa is what makes our Polynesian culture special.
you go girl...I'm proud of you.
Rich :)