The Role of Tatau in the Pacific Diaspora
The Role of Tatau in the Pacific Diaspora: How Ancient Tattooing Practices are Contributing to the Formulation of Modern Day Sāmoan Identities
As globalisation is continuing to reach new limits, many indigenous practices have evolved over time to enable those living within the diaspora to carry their culture with them.
Tatau, the practice of Sāmoan tattooing, is an example of an ancient artform that enables Sāmoans existing outside of their home country to connect deeper to their heritage.
I have had the honour of sitting down with Sean Mallon, author and Senior Curator Pacific Cultures at the Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa, as well as Sāmoan musician Caroline Tamati, also known as Ladi6, to talanoa about how tatau can support Sāmoan identities.
Tatau as an Outward Expression of Identity
In an interview by Fresh TV Tuigamala Andy Tauafiafi explained, “I think of tatau as my Sāmoan passport.”
I think this is a truly illustrative perspective on tatau and exemplifies the role in which tatau has played for Sāmoans in formulating their identities within countries that are not their own.
In my conversations with Sean and Ladi6, this was made abundantly clear. They both spoke of the significance of tatau as a mechanism to express identity but also to connect deeper with their culture and aiga.
“I think it’s important, specifically for New Zealand-borns like me, who aren’t very close to their culture,” explains Ladi6.
“It just makes me feel like something on the outside to signify the significance of my culture to me because I can’t speak Sāmoan and it connects me to my family.”
Many Sāmoans living in Aotearoa, like myself, have never stepped foot in their villages. This leaves us to create our own stories of identity as we try to understand what being Sāmoan means and looks like to each of us.
Tatau has supported this identity journey for many Sāmoans and continues to do so in many different facets and areas of our lives.
“It’s a healing device for people who are feeling disconnected or who feel that Sāmoa is a long way away,” says Sean.
“I see it as a medium through which people of all generations can connect to and use it as a way to understand and formulate their sense of identity.”
It allows people to quite literally carry their culture and ancestors with them through the markings on their bodies. A way to permanently solidify our connection to a homeland that often feels out of reach.
It is also a way to deepen our connection with our ancestors and further our understanding of Fa’a Sāmoa.
Sean explains the way in which continuing ancient traditions connects us through a sense of shared experience with our ancestors.
“For some New Zealand-borns, it’s a connection to a place that is very far away, some of them may have never visited, but through the au and the tapping, they can feel something that their ancestors felt hundreds of years ago.”
“Those tools are a direct connection to the technology of ancient Sāmoans,” Sean explains.
In this sense, through experiencing the same pain that our ancestors went through, we can feel closer to them and engage deeper with Fa’a Sāmoa. It enables us to connect to a tradition that existed before colonisation and the missionaries came to Sāmoa.
While the meanings of tatau and its tools and techniques have evolved over time, the main essence of the ancient traditions remain pure and strong. This is something that can directly link and connect us to our ancestors and time past.
Tatau as a Rite of Passage
In terms of defining the practice, tatau is often described as a rite of passage; a transition from one stage of life to another.
Ladi6 spoke to this, commenting, “I think tatau means a rite of passage to your culture, a rite of ownership to who you are and who your ancestors are and where they came from.”
“For me, it meant that I was allowed to have access to my culture,” explains Ladi6. “Then, because of that, I did begin to look into it and it made me realise who we are and how long we’ve been here.”
For many people, connecting to our culture and gafa (genealogy) is not so simple. Often gatekeeping can keep people from engaging in our traditional cultural practices such as tatau. Many Sāmoans living within the diaspora experience feel invalid or uncertain within their Sāmoan identity and therefore don’t feel that tatau is something accessible or available to them.
“I guess the personal breakthrough for me,” says Sean, “thinking about my own mixed heritage, was realising ‘who actually controls, holds and decides what the criteria is for being a Sāmoan?’”
“I remember there’s a Māori commentator who said it’s about whakapapa – and that’s blood,” continues Sean.
“Language is important, knowledge of history is important, knowledge of your gafa is important but they’re not the only measures of cultural competency or cultural identity so who decides that?”
It’s therefore important to understand what identity and culture means to each of us, to be able to define our own measures of culture for ourselves.
“When I got the malu,” explains Ladi6, “I thought to myself, this is an entry point and I always will have the feeling that I should know my language and one day I will try my best to do it.”
“It kind of solidified that commitment to me and, in that way, it connected me back to my culture and into feeling like I belonged.”
In this way, tatau is creating opportunities for New Zealand-born Sāmoans, and others across the diaspora, to gain the confidence or validation within themselves to start engaging more broadly with other facets of Fa’a Sāmoa.
For people like Ladi6, tatau created an open door that allowed her to give herself permission to feel valid in her Sāmoan identity and continue a journey of cultural learning.
“Tatau allows people to connect to things that are missing in their life,” explains Sean.
Therefore, for those of us uncertain in our Sāmoan identity, tatau actually functions for many as a way to step into the culture and learn more. It can be the first step or the jump that a person needs to feel valid or accepted enough to engage further in formal events or other cultural moments.
“It’s a valuable social resource that allows them to enact and display their ethnic and cultural identity,” notes Sean.
“It’s a source of pride.”
Tatau also symbolises the Sāmoan value of tautua (service) and your responsibility to the people around you.
“It all really ties in with that family connection or that connection of love and love to people that are close to you,” says Ladi6.
Ladi6 wears the malu on her hand, which is a copy of the same tattoo her mother wore.
“’That’s my mother’s. That’s how I’d explain it,” Ladi6 tells me.
In this way, it is clear that tatau is a way to give acknowledgment and respect to our relationships and responsibilities to our aiga. You are taking on a permanent commitment that can represent and acknowledge your position within your family and the responsibility you have to them.
“There are some wonderful ways in which the malu helps solidify and acknowledge service or relationships,” explains Sean.
“I know that’s a really big part of Sāmoan society and what makes us very distinctive in our own way - in the way that keeps us connected and responsible to one another.”
Tatau as a Marker of Identity Within a Globalised World
When asked whether tatau was important as a public figure, Ladi6 noted this was definitely true in her experience.
“I think when you can’t speak your language so therefore you’re limited in writing songs in your language and you’re limited in being able to communicate with people that are from the same place as you, you end up feeling like there’s a disconnect,” she says.
It is therefore a way to display pride for your culture and connect to other people that we may not be able to connect with through language or other mechanisms.
In an increasingly globalised society, it is very important for people to be able to express their identity and culture outwardly.
The tatau then becomes a mechanism through which Sāmoans across the diaspora can use to claim their culture and be seen as Sāmoan throughout their daily activities and movements.
“I just thought about it as in my every day I will be seen as Sāmoan because they will see my hands and even if they don’t – not about their perspectives but I knew – this is how I felt,” Ladi6 states.
“Again, it’s weirdly all about belonging.”
Therefore, it’s obvious that receiving these markings on your body enables many Sāmoans to feel a better sense of belonging and validation within our culture and how we identify ourselves.
“It became even political for me,” Ladi6 continues, “to say I’m proudly Sāmoan.”
It’s a way to carry our ancestors, our gafa and our culture with us throughout a world that has become ever more diverse and globalised.
“In the age of intense globalisation, we’re looking for these things that make us stand out a little bit in the crowd,” says Sean.
“It’s a real desire for people to have something distinctive on their bodies that marks them out from everyone else.”
Therefore, it is very clear that tatau has the ability to cut across time and space, providing current Sāmoans around the globe, with the ability to experience and proudly wear an ancient tradition that was created by our ancestors.
While there are many debates and politics surrounding the tatau, I think it’s important for us to focus on the beauty of this practice and the wonderful ways in which it allows us to further our cultural connections, our relationships, our learning and our tautua to our families.
Tatau offers an opportunity for all of us within the Pacific diaspora to experience and wear something of ancient cultural significance to Sāmoa, forever linking us to our ancestors and descendants, time past and future.