Holding the Line in the In-Between

Editor’s Note

The Line We Hold was created to give voice to the struggle of living between two worlds — faʻaSāmoa and American systems. This opening post is our foundation: an acknowledgment of the cultural and legal tensions that shape our daily lives, and a call to advocates — past, present, and future — to come together. This is not just my story. It is ours.

American Samoa stands at a crossroads between two worlds: the communal, hierarchical structure of faʻaSāmoa and the individualistic, rights-based framework of the American legal and political system. On their own, each system carries wisdom and value. But together, they have created a tension that leaves our people straggling in the middle - lost, silenced, and confused about how to navigate two opposing ways of life.

The Clash of Two Systems

In Samoan culture, respect for hierarchy is a cornerstone. Decisions flow through the matai system, where chiefs (matai) are chosen to represent the interests of their families and clans. This structure emphasizes communal unity, service, and reverence. These are values that have preserved our traditions for centuries and ensured that decisions reflect the wellbeing of the collective rather than just the individual.

By contrast, the American framework that overlays our islands is rooted in individual rights and freedoms. In this system, each person is expected to speak for themselves, with protections like free speech and due process ensuring that every voice carries equal weight in law.

Neither system is inherently wrong. But together, they create contradictions that our people live with daily. We encourage our youth to pursue American education, yet expect them to still move within the respectful boundaries of faʻaSāmoa. We raise children to value collective responsibility, yet they also learn in classrooms abroad that they must assert individual rights. We want accountability in government, but the cultural expectation to honor and respect leaders sometimes holds us back from demanding it outright.

The Cost of the In-Between

This clash doesn’t just exist in theory. It affects real lives.

It shows up in courtrooms, where defendants often don’t fully understand the legal system deciding their fate. Even when Samoan translators are present, the meaning doesn’t always land. That’s because the legal concepts themselves don’t always translate. The translators themselves struggle as well, trying to render terms and processes born out of an American legal framework into cultural language that has no direct equivalent.

The result? People leave the courtroom uncertain about what just happened and unclear about where their fates truly lie. The promise of “justice” feels out of reach when it is spoken in a language - legal, cultural, or otherwise - that isn’t fully theirs.

It shows up in villages, where untitled voices remain unheard even when they carry truth. It shows up in families, where young people wrestle with honoring tradition while navigating modern freedoms. Too often, the result is paralysis.

Our people are caught in the in-between. Unsure whether to follow cultural expectations or legal rights, whether to stay silent or speak out, whether to submit or resist. And when the path forward is unclear, injustice thrives in the shadows.

Why We Hold the Line

The Line We Hold exists to create space for these conversations. We are not here to abandon our culture or reject our heritage. We are here because we believe in its beauty and strength. But we also believe in justice, fairness, and the dignity of every voice.

Holding the line means refusing to let our people be lost in the middle. It means bridging the wisdom of faʻaSāmoa with the protections of American justice. It means creating new frameworks that honor both, without letting either be used as a weapon against our people.

A Call to Advocates

This is not a new fight. Many have been holding the line long before now, in villages, in courts, in classrooms, and in community halls. But too often, these efforts happen in isolation.

We invite all advocates - seasoned and new - to stand with us. To bring your stories, your struggles, and your solutions. To help us build a cohesive movement that is bigger than one person, one voice, or one generation.

Because our people deserve clarity. Our people deserve justice. Our people deserve to thrive in both worlds.

We are still here. We are still holding the line. And we will not let go.