Lessons in Geography

After telling someone where I am from, I am bombarded with questions, and I have answers scripted and memorized. For example, everyone who asks me where Micronesia is gets the same answer, “It’s a group of islands midway between Hawaii and Australia.”

I have recently made an addition to my scripts when asked, “What’s it like being an international student and the only Micronesian at St. John’s?”

Admittedly, I do not bear the same struggles as many international students. I do not need a visa to be in the United States. Unbeknownst to most, the US and Micronesia have a Compact of Free Association, which affords Micronesians the luxury of living in the US without a visa. Additionally, English, Micronesia’s national language, is my first language. These both burden my fellow international students, and I commend them for their strength and perseverance.

However, a shared struggle is our roles as ambassadors. In most of our cases, we are the only real way that our colleagues in the US will truly interact on a personal level with our countries. This has given us all a sense of responsibility. With every action I take, I know that the outcome has an impact on the reputation of an entire nation.

Growing up, my mother always told my siblings and I that everything we did was going to be scrutinized and would be used as the representation of her, our father, our family, and our values. On a tiny island with a population of 20,000, it was always, “Oh, look at the Adams kid.” Now it’s not just, “Oh, the Adams girl,” but, “Oh, the Micronesian girl. So that’s what Micronesians are like?” 

I speak for all internationals when I state that the fear that I am not representing my country to the best of my abilities haunts me. However, my fellow international students and I take on this responsibility and carry it with grace and dignity.

The question of what it is like being the only Micronesian on campus is best answered by telling of an experience I had with several administrators. During international orientation week as I was making my rounds meeting and greeting the new international students, I was approached by a woman doing the same. She asked me what my name was and where I was from, a question she had already asked at least a dozen other students before me, but she had no idea of the surprise awaiting her with my scripted answer, “My name’s Kéavae and I’m from Micronesia.”

To my surprise, her uncontained excitement spread to another woman at the table behind as she exclaimed, “I found her! I found the Micronesian!”

She then said to me, “You probably don’t know this, but you’re famous.”  

Subsequently, she explained how seeing my flag flying in the fall of my freshman year cannoned her and her colleague’s hunt for “the only Micronesian.”  

This experience led to an invitation to speak at the global gathering event during International Education Week, which then led to the opportunity to write this article. Being the only Micronesian at St. John’s has opened windows of opportunities for me. It also makes me feel like the most interesting person in the room.

What is so interesting about my flag flying that September day is that while two women became aware of my existence, I likewise came to my own realizations. First, it was more than just a flag. It was me on display for the whole of this new world to see. My flag flying proclaimed my existence and told me that I was worth being recognized.

Second, I needed to represent it well, and the responsibility of being an ambassador should be borne with pride. It is not a weight meant to drag us down, but a medal of honor meant to lift up a nation.