Elesa
Knowles
Travel
Literature
Dr.
Juniper Ellis
March
2, 2015
A Sea of Self-Determination: Hau’ofa’s “Our
Sea of Islands” and Sesame Street Birds
Epeli Hau’ofa utilizes grammar to
make a profound difference in understanding Oceania from an Oceania’s perspective
opposed to an American perspective. He defines Oceania not as “islands in the
vast sea”, but rather, “a sea of islands” (31). His defiantly asserts his
country not as a collection of dots in a vast world but as its own universes.
He replaces the notion of tiny islands to vast universes of islands in which
each autonomous culture has the rights and free will to create and define
itself. He states, “There is a world of difference between viewing the Pacific as
‘islands in a far sea’, and ‘a sea of islands’. The first emphasizes dry
surfaces in vast oceans far from centers of power. Focusing in this way
stresses the smallness and remoteness of the islands” (31). Unlike a tattoo,
which is a dry surface that reveals more about self-determination, this dry
surface of islands makes them sound vulnerable and constantly needy. If islands
were isolated dry lands, then the inhabitants would need supplies from the main
land if more foreigners forcibly move in. The islands was be seen as isolated
from, “centers of power” the or Western European’s modernization. The small
size would make outsiders believe the islanders are too weak to defend
themselves militarily. Through a Eurocentric lens, Oceania is seen as weak,
dependent, and not capable of asserting its own agency. Unlike a tattoo,
“islands in a vast sea”, indicate insufficient ability or the unwillingness to
make a mark for oneself or on oneself. This viewpoint inaccurately depicts,
“Islands in a vast sea” as merely acne blemishes on vast unhealthy skin, which
needs to be treated by outside parties (31).
On the other hand, Hau’ofa’s second
definition is literally a verbal tattoo. A mark and an act of defining agency
when others easily label what they think you should or can be. He states, “The
second is a more holistic perspective in which things are seen in the totality
of their relationships” (32). The “sea of islands” indicates that the canvass
of the sea as the islanders’ home, not the sole definer or damnation. The
islands are prominent not fragmented blemishes. He also states, “Oceania
denotes a sea of islands with their inhabitants. The world of our ancestors was
a large sea full of places to explore, to make their homes, and to breed
generations of seafarers like themselves” (32). They do not merely survive but
thrive in their home. They are individualized tattoos part of the living
canvass of the sea. They are each one of a kind, crafted by nature itself or
volcanoes; therefore, they are the irreplaceable and permanent part of
Oceania’s breathing body of water.
Meanwhile, I existed in the
miniature universe of Langhorne, Pennsylvania guarding the Big, yellow bird and
photographing children and their families having their day in puppet paradise.
One day in particular, I noted a co-worker’s tattoo cleverly hidden under our
chirpily, gold Sesame uniform. Tattoos were labeled in our handbook as
inappropriate for fear of offending the customers or lacking professionalism.
Even under the faint layer of foundation, the individualized tattoo was meant to
be read. The tattoo is seven birds with each one color of the rainbow flying.
They are freeing themselves from a black Victorian styled cage with locks
covering it. As a literary nerd, I asked if this tattoo was a reference to Maya
Angelou’s novel’s I Know Why the Caged
Bird Sings. He responds, “A Maya Angelou …sounds like some great booze. Let’s
have one on the weekend sometime!” I was very embarrassed about my assumptions
and felt ignorant. When I defined what I thought his tattoo says instead of
him, I am no better than an outsider who generally defines Oceania as, “islands
in a vast sea”, just to mold it to make sense in the context of what he or she
knows. Instead of consulting the insider who lives and breathes their heritage
on their skin or in their country, I assumed my literary background gives me
more credibility to define my co-worker’s tattoo.
He
later told me that his tattoo was symbol of his transition to freedom and
self-identity. He remained mainly closeted as bi-sexual male till recently.
Determined to make his stance clear to his family and very hostile anti-gay and
judgmental homosexual high school he went to, he had his tattoo be an
arrangement of birds that each represented any kind of person he could
eventually fall in with. Each bird could be of any race, ethnicity, religion,
gender, or sex of anyone he would choose to love in the present or the future.
He did not want to renounce who he is to his heterosexual family and friends,
but he did not like being criticized as “being on the fence” or “being
promiscuous for not picking a team”, to his homosexual contemporaries. He
explained to me while we were guarding the Big Bird from the storm in July,
“Why is it anyone else’s choice to define whom you love and live how you want
to? Whoever defines me got too much time on their hands…because my skin speaks
for itself!” Each bird is an island flying away from restrictive boundaries of
Western, Victorian ideals of self. The birds together are more than what the
cage that holds them is. They are, “a sea of islands” among a judgmental and
uninterested audience. Hau’ofa states, “The second is a more holistic
perspective in which things are seen in the totality of their relationships”;
thus, my co-worker is whole in his self-determination and his choice to define
his relationship to the world on his arm (31).
Works Cited
Hau'ofa, Epeli. "Our
Sea of Islands." Inside Out. Web. 21 Feb. 2015.
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