I stepped into the Alaska State Capitol this January in a season of quiet transformation, carrying
a weight that no legislative manual could prepare me for. On January 6th, I laid my father to rest;
by January 8th, I was on a plane to Juneau. As the eldest daughter in a Samoan family, I was
raised to carry strength for others, even when my own heart was still learning how to stand still.
My father, a man who showed love through action rather than words, left me with one
unmistakable conviction: I was capable.
But in the halls of power, “capability” often feels like it requires a second, unwritten job
description: emotional labor.
The Isolation of the “White Walls”
Navigating government systems as a U.S. national working toward citizenship reveals the
inherent complexity and inaccessibility of these institutions. There is a quiet, persistent tension in
trying to be effective while carrying the heavy responsibility of representation. Walking through
the Capitol, I am surrounded by white walls and historical images where no one looks like me.
While Anchorage boasts some of the most diverse neighborhoods in the nation, the rooms where
decisions are made look nothing like the community I grew up in. This environment isn’t
necessarily designed to be isolating, but when you are the first Samoan person many colleagues
have ever encountered, the silence of unfamiliar spaces can be deafening.
The Charade of the Mask.
There is a specific kind of exhaustion that comes from balancing the “Western standard” of
professionalism with the truth of my heritage. I find myself switching masks as often as I switch
my clothes — incorporating cultural fabrics or jewelry into my outfits as a way to remain rooted
while navigating a system that wasn’t built with my voice in mind.
This labor extends beyond the office. Policy is not abstract; it is deeply personal. A single word
in legislation — “consecutive” versus “concurrent” — can alter the trajectory of a life. Yet, when I
go home and try to explain these nuances, I often feel like an outcast. There is a gap between the
“3D chess” of legislative movement and the reality of my family’s life, a gap where even my
own mother sometimes tells me that “that is enough”.
Finding the Mana
The “game” of politics — the thin walls, the legwork behind closed doors, and the smiles that hide
sharp blades — can be draining. In those moments, I turn to Samoan music. The rhythm is more
than sound; it is a reminder that I am not solitary. I carry my ancestors and those yet to come in
every step.
I see this connection in the way I hold onto my name. In the Capitol, I am often asked if I have a
shorter, “easier” version. But my name is a story and a legacy; it holds the love of my parents
and those who came before me. To shorten it would be to shrink myself.
Transforming the System
During my first bill hearing, the nervousness felt like waves of dread. Every memory of being
called Fresh off the boat “fob” or speaking English “incorrectly” rushed back, making my body
feel as tight as a squeezed orange.
But visibility matters. I sit in these rooms with intention, sometimes positioning myself within
view of the cameras so that someone from my community might see me and realize that they
belong here, too.
This journey is not just about navigating a system; it is about transforming it by showing up as
my full self — as a Samoan woman, a daughter and a grieving, growing human. My father’s
voice reminds me I am capable. By honoring that truth, I hope to clear a path so that those who
follow won’t have to labor quite so hard just to be seen.
Tammalivis Salanoa
Tammalivis Salanoa is a dedicated advocate and public servant committed to driving meaningful, systemic change across Alaska. As a Legislative Aide to Representative Genevieve Mina, Tammalivis has played a pivotal role in the legislative process, managing and advancing key bills such as HB 334 and HB 188. Her leadership extends to the local level as the Chair of the Municipality of Anchorage Art Advisory Commission, where she champions community development through the lens of equity and inclusion. A proud representative of the Pacific Islander community, her advocacy spans local, national and international levels. Her focus on healthcare, education and climate justice is informed by a deep respect for heritage and a vision for future generations. Recognized with both the Presidential Lifetime Achievement and Youth Services Awards, Tammalivis remains a steadfast leader dedicated to fostering leadership and empowering the broader Alaska community.