On Christmas morning, when most kids her age were unwrapping presents or taking pictures in matching pajamas, Kaia Chiguina watched her parents separate.
The day she had always known as joyful and sacred suddenly felt hollow. As a Catholic child who grew up believing Christmas was a celebration of Jesus and a season of giving, she couldn’t understand why her family was breaking apart on the one day meant for hope.
“It felt like I had a bunch of joy sucked out of me,” she said. “I wondered why God had done that to me, why that day out of all days.”
For more than a year, Kaia Chiguina lived inside that question. She describes it as a hole – not dramatic, but deep enough to make everything feel heavier. She kept going to school, kept playing sports, kept moving through her days, but the weight stayed with her. Slowly, by eighth grade, she began climbing out. She started raising her expectations for herself. She had always been an athlete, but now she began prioritizing academics with the same intensity. She didn’t know it yet, but that shift would become the foundation of everything that followed.
By the time she entered high school, Chiguina carried a new mindset: work hard, stay focused, and build the future she wanted, even if the path there wasn’t easy. College in the States was expensive, and she knew scholarships would be the only way to make it possible. So she pushed – through long practices, late nights, club meetings, and hours of studying. She didn’t complain. She didn’t cut corners. She just kept going.
And somewhere along the way, she found something she didn’t expect.
She found another family.
Not a replacement for the one she loved, but an expansion of it – a community that wrapped around her when she needed it most. In the Academy of Our Lady of Guam Cougars’ softball program, she found “sisters,” a word she uses intentionally. They weren’t blood relatives, but they showed up for her like they were. As a freshman, the seniors made sure every underclassman had a ride to practice or games. They taught her the sport, but more importantly, they taught her belonging.
“There was no JV or varsity – it was one big team,” she said. “They always made sure we were seen.”
Over four years, that program became her home away from home. The Maratitas – Marissa Maratita‑Matanane, Meagan Maratita‑Concepcion, Russell Maratita – along with Savannah Shields‑Lapid and the late coach Joaquin “Kin” Fernandez, shaped her into the athlete and leader she is now. They taught discipline, gratitude, and the idea that “pressure is a privilege.” Coach Kin, she says, showed his love through action – raking the field early, creating opportunities for younger players, believing in every girl who wore the uniform.
By senior year, Chiguina was a captain of a 26‑player roster, determined to give the younger girls the same experience she once received. Winning three straight championships was meaningful, but the real achievement, she says, was watching her “little sisters” fall in love with the sport the way she did.
Her greatest sports accomplishment, she says, isn’t a trophy – it’s seeing her teammates grow into leaders, the same way she once grew under the guidance of older players. “Our Cougar softball program is a very close‑knit family,” she said. “I can genuinely call the girls on that team my sisters.”
That sense of family didn’t stop at softball. Her godparents, her grandmother, her dad, and especially her mom – Rachelle Manahan, her hero – formed the support system that carried her through the hardest years. The separation that once felt like a loss eventually revealed itself as something else: a widening of her circle, a deeper understanding of love, a gift she didn’t recognize at first.
“I like to say I have multiple sets of parents,” she said. “The love I get from my family is the gift I used to think was taken from me.”
So when she learned she was a Shieh Su Ying Scholar Athlete finalist – while standing on the beach, running out of the water to check her phone – the joy hit differently. She knew what it meant for her future, but she also knew what it meant for the people who had carried her to this moment.
“It would definitely help my mom and I,” she said. “I want to do anything I can to relieve any financial burdens off her shoulders.”
She felt honored, grateful, and proud – not just for herself, but for her family, who had sacrificed to give her opportunities in sports and school. “It means a lot to me, and I know it means a lot to my family as well,” she said.
And now, all those roads – the hard ones, the unexpected ones, the ones she fought to stay on – are leading her to her next step: Boston College.
At first, she didn’t even want to look at the East Coast. She imagined herself in Washington or California, close to family. But as she researched biology programs and medical opportunities, Boston kept appearing. The city’s reputation as the “heart of medicine” caught her attention. Then she found Boston College – Catholic, academically strong, a classic campus feel but still close to the city, and a community that felt inclusive and grounded.
It checked every box.
Chiguina plans to study biology, possibly double major in finance, and eventually become a physician. Her long‑term goal is clear: work in the States for a few years, then come home to Guam to help strengthen the island’s healthcare system.
“I realized I had to study hard so I could go to college, get a good job, and give back to those who helped raise my brother and me,” she said. “I’m starting that journey now.”
She still loves building forts, playing board games, and late‑night card games with her family – reminders that she’s still a kid at heart, even as she steps into a future she’s worked years to earn.
The Christmas that once felt like an ending has become something else entirely. It’s the moment that pushed her toward the life she’s building now – one defined not by loss, but by resilience, gratitude, and the families she’s found along the way.
And this fall, at Boston College, she’ll carry all of them with her.
