Dine's Ethos

As I consider staying in American Samoa permanently, I’m realizing how much I’d be sacrificing. Living so far from my parents and sisters means missing out on family milestones, the little everyday moments, and even the mundane interactions that I once took for granted. It makes me question: Is this sacrifice worth it? Or more importantly, is it the right decision? Is it right to give up time with my parents, nieces, nephews, and siblings? It might sound dramatic, but this is the reality I’m facing.

I’ve been in American Samoa for almost a year and haven’t seen my family since I left. Even if I visit Utah once a year, it won’t be enough. Time is fleeting, and being apart from them feels heavier each day.

As for work, I’ve been at the Public Defender’s Office for nearly two months, and I’ve already seen how overwhelming it is. With only two attorneys handling almost all criminal cases, I worry about providing the quality representation I’m ethically bound to offer. I don’t want to be the lawyer who just moves cases along. But can I truly make a difference in a system where change feels nearly impossible? The longer I stay, the more I wonder if the trade-off—sacrificing my personal relationships—is worth it.

I can already hear the responses: “Change starts with you. Maybe you’re the one who will make the changes we need.” But frankly, that feels insincere when I look around at the current state of things. Every week there are headlines about government corruption, missing funds, and a glaring lack of accountability. It’s disheartening, and I find myself asking: what can I realistically do? And even if I can make a difference, will it take my entire lifetime? How can I commit my life to that? Sure, it might be for the future of our territory, but at what expense? My relationship with my family?

I usually pride myself on staying positive, no matter the situations I find myself in or the challenges I have to face. I’ve always tried to make the best of what I’ve got. But right now, I think I’m in a bit of a slump, especially as I grapple with a decision I know I’ll have to make. Even though I have time to think it through, it’s still weighing heavily on me.

On top of that, the work I’m doing as an assistant public defender has started to take its toll. The cases I deal with—the subject matter I’m confronted with every day—are difficult. And that’s been contributing to this slump as well.

Recently, I had to represent an elderly man who had been charged with assault. The alleged victim was a much younger man, and my client had sustained serious injuries from the incident—injuries that required surgery. He was arrested, but fortunately, he was able to post bond the same day, so he didn’t have to spend the night in the correctional facility.

Later, the police received a video showing that the younger man, the alleged victim, was actually the aggressor. My client wasn’t just the true victim of the assault—he was victimized again by the police and by the very system that’s supposed to protect people like him. Sitting in court, I honestly wanted to cry. The only thing the court could offer was an apology and a statement hoping that this wouldn’t happen again. But where is the real recourse for him? It was incredibly disheartening.

That hearing left me feeling so sad, and I think it’s what triggered the slump I’m in right now. It’s hard not to feel weighed down by situations like this, where the system fails those it’s meant to serve.

Realities of Life in American Samoa

These are difficult decisions, made even harder by the realities of life here. Many Samoans are aware of the challenges within the American Samoa Government. After moving here, I started working for ASG after a week but it took a few pay periods before I actually saw my first paycheck because my paperwork hadn’t been processed yet. As a part of my contract, ASG is supposed to pay for my housing and utilities up to a certain amount. It took a month or two before I received my first housing allowance. Then as more months went on, it took ASG even more time to provide my housing allowance. As of now, I haven’t received my housing allowance for the past few months. As for my utilities, I’ve probably only received it once since I moved here in January.

It’s incredibly frustrating to face this reality. I expected some delays when I moved here, but I didn’t foresee this extent of financial uncertainty, especially when ASG is so desperate for attorneys.

I know my heart is in the right place. My intentions are in the right place. But as an adult, I can’t ignore the need for financial stability. I need to know I’ll get paid when I’m supposed to, that my housing and utilities will be covered as promised, and that I’ll have the resources I need to succeed in my job. Right now, the likelihood of any of those things seems slim.

I hesitated to be this transparent. But if I’m honest, I wish someone had been this open with me when I was deciding to move here. This isn’t meant to discourage anyone from working for ASG, but rather to provide a fuller picture—one you won’t easily find when making that decision.

The choice of whether to return to Utah when my contract ends or to stay here longer—or even permanently—is incredibly difficult. I know my parents will always be in Utah, and I don’t see them ever moving back. I don’t see any of my siblings moving here either. So, if I stay, especially permanently, I know it will be just me. And that makes it even harder to stay.