
By John A. Ananich II
Let me tell you a story—a real story about us, about this island, about Guam, a place we all love. It’s a story that stretches back generations, rooted in our culture, our families, our spirit. An island that was once full of promise. Where our children played in the streets, where we all knew that tomorrow would be a little brighter than today. That was Guam. But somewhere along the way, the path changed. It didn’t happen all at once—it was gradual, creeping in slowly until it became impossible to ignore.
The island we once knew is no longer the same. Our streets aren’t safe anymore. Our schools are crumbling. The hospitals that we depend on have become places of worry, not relief. This is not the Guam our parents dreamed of, not the Guam we wanted to give to our children. And yet, here we are, watching it slip further from our grasp.
I’ll tell you right now—this didn’t just happen. This isn’t some random twist of fate. No, this was engineered. It was orchestrated by the very people we trusted to lead us—career politicians who have overstayed their welcome, sitting comfortably in positions of power while the island falls apart around them. They invited chaos into our homes. And they did it knowingly. It’s like they threw a party, didn’t clean up, and left us with the wreckage. And now, they’re acting like it’s not their mess to fix.
They told us things would get better—if we just trusted them a little longer. “We’re working on it,” they said. But we know better now, don’t we? We’ve seen the truth behind those promises, haven’t we? We’ve watched them govern not with vision, but with laziness. Not with care, but with incompetence. They didn’t just let this happen—they made it happen. And our people have suffered the consequences.
A lot of them began to leave. Not because they wanted to, but because they had to. They left behind the homes their parents and grandparents had built, leaving behind their roots, their memories, their identity. They were forced to leave an island that had grown too expensive, too broken, and too unsafe. And why? Because the people in power—the ones we trusted to take care of our island—had failed us. They had failed to govern, failed to protect, failed to build a future that made staying on Guam possible.
But this isn’t just a story about failure. It’s a story about betrayal. A betrayal that didn’t happen overnight, but over years—decades, even. The very leaders who were supposed to guide us, the career politicians who promised to build a better Guam, became the architects of its decline. They allowed our island’s infrastructure to crumble, our economy to stagnate, and our public safety to deteriorate. They did nothing but get fat, while our island withered away, and our people paid the price.
Let me give you the real picture. We have fewer police officers and first responders today than we did in the 1980s, even though our population has grown exponentially. How does that make any sense? More people, more crime, more danger—and less protection. We should be moving forward, but instead, we’re stuck moving backward.
And the people responsible? They sit in their over decorated offices, acting like nothing’s wrong. It’s almost funny, if it wasn’t so tragic. They think we’ll just keep trusting them, that we’ll keep going along with this, but let me remind you of something they seem to have forgotten: the power has always been with us. Not with them—with us.
Here’s the secret they don’t want you to know: If 80 to 90 percent of us show up on Election Day, the results will be undeniable. We will sweep them out of office so fast they won’t even have time to pack up their doughnuts and diet cokes. The winds of change will blow through Guam, and for the first time in a long time, the wheels of progress will start turning again. We will take our island back, not with violence, but with our votes.
You know, it’s been said that if you back a dog into a corner, no matter its size, it will fight back with everything it has. Well, guess what? We’ve been backed into that corner. And now, we have no choice but to fight. So I’m coming out swinging for the fences. This isn’t about anger or frustration anymore. This is about survival—our survival. The survival of our children, our families, our very way of life.
Imagine a Guam where we don’t have to worry if the ambulance is going to arrive in time. Imagine a Guam where our children go to schools that are modern, safe, and filled with opportunity. Imagine being able to walk down the street at night, not worrying about what might happen. Imagine if the street was lit up like it was in 1986. That’s not a dream. That’s the future we can have—if we take it.
But to get there, we have to get rid of the people who have failed us. These career politicians—they’ve been in power long enough. They’ve shown us exactly what they’re capable of—and it’s not much. Their legacy? Negligence. Indifference. Betrayal. They were supposed to lead us to a brighter future, but instead, they led us into darkness. And now, they’ve got to go. They need to be removed from our story.
I know what some of you are thinking: “Can we really make a difference?” Yes. Absolutely! Change isn’t impossible—it’s right there, waiting for us. If we show up, if we stand together, if we vote in force, we will change the future of Guam. We will no longer be held hostage by a broken system, with broken promises and we will finally take control of our future. But only if we act.
Now, let me be real with you for a second. If you’re reading this story, hearing everything I’ve said, and you still choose to do nothing on Election Day, then you are as worthless as the politicians who put us in this mess. Yeah, I said it. You’re their number one fan—even if you don’t realize it. By doing nothing, you’ve become an accessory to Guam’s decline. You should be ashamed. You’ve chosen to do nothing when action is the only thing that can save us. Is that harsh? Yes it is, but it’s the truth. And that is more than I can say for your senators that you inadvertently keep in office by doing exactly what they do—nothing.
Let me tell you a little about myself: I will always show up to a fight, win, lose, or draw. I’d rather stand and exchange blows to the face, take a few hits, and know that I gave it everything I had, than sit on the sidelines, doing nothing, with my head held low. I’d rather lose a fight with my dignity than be a coward with shame. The bruises will heal. That’s the difference between those of us who care about this island and those who abandoned it long ago but can’t afford to leave. That’s the difference between someone with courage and someone with none.
You see, I still believe that we’re not the kind of people who sit back while our homes fall apart. We don’t watch while our loved ones suffer. We don’t stand by and let our children’s future be stolen. We act. And now is the time to do so. This is the moment to stand for everything we hold close to our hearts.
This election is not just a choice between candidates. It’s a choice between hope and despair. It’s a choice between reclaiming our power or surrendering to more years of incompetence and decay. We cannot afford to make the wrong choice, nor can we afford to not make a choice at all.
But remember this—this isn’t just my stand. This is your stand. This is for your family, for your children, for the generations that will inherit the island we leave behind. It’s for your self-respect.
I’ll be there on Election Day, standing for you. I’ll be right there, shoulder to shoulder with every one of you who believes that Guam deserves better. But I can’t do this alone.
We need each other. We need every voice, every vote, every ounce of energy we can summon to make this change happen. Because if we don’t? If we stay silent, if we stay home, nothing will change. The same culprits will remain in power, and they will continue to navigate Guam right into the ground. But if we act, if we fight together, we can build the future this island deserves.
So, stand or fall. That’s the choice in front of us. Stand for Guam, stand for your family, stand for our future. Or sit back and watch this island, our home, fall further into ruin. The choice is yours, but let me tell you right now—I’m standing. I’m standing for Guam. And I hope you’ll stand with me.
At the end of the day, we will either be proud, knowing we did everything we could for something better, or we will live with the regret of knowing we didn’t do enough. But I will know that I fought. I fought for Guam, I fought for you, and I fought for our future, and that’s enough for me to sleep at night.
Fight or Flight:
You need to make a choice. Or get the hell out of the way! Because you’re standing in the middle of the crossroads.
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John A. Ananich II is a businessman, former police officer, and combat veteran. He is a resident of Dededo, Guam.
1 Comments
Joe
10/07/2024 at 9:48 AM
Good message. I notice that in politics any good intention and/or idea is always put aside, and some voters are stuck with the same mindset no different than the Trump supporters. Good luck, John.