Non-Hawaiians in Hawaiʻi

*WARNING: THIS BLOG MIGHT BE OFFENSIVE TO SOME, BUT EMPOWERING TO OTHERS*

I don't want to be racist toward my Asian ancestors or my good friends of Asian ancestry, but I need to vent some frustration today.  I would also like to mahalo Chinatown for providing my ʻohana and myself a place to grow up in.

It is really frustrating that Hawaiians struggle to keep our language alive in our own land, our own birthplace with so many emigrated Asians flooding here.  The predominant racial group are the Japanese, Chinese, and Filipino with the Vietnamese and Korean groups slowly rising as well.  Everyday when I leave my house to catch my bus, I see an Asian person speaking their language with fluency.  The Asian immigrant person is the store owner, the parking lot manager, the stranger at the bus stop, the student on the bus going to UH, and the person in the aloha shirt driving the Mercedes Benz next to my bus.  The Hawaiians I see are the security guards, the houseless man sleeping on the sidewalk, the woman waiting in line at the soup kitchen, or the overweight person with gout asking for money at the bus stop.  Majority of these Hawaiians are under represented, under educated, and definitely do not speak Hawaiian.

Many Chinese immigrants can come to "America"/Hawaiʻi and still be allowed to speak their ancestral language, or oppressor tribal language depending on how you look at it.  Since so many of them are native speakers and they come in large groups, they have a population to speak with.  Mun Lun School is a Chinese language school that has been in existence for nearly 100 years and this one school is helping hundreds of Chinese continue to speak their language.

Ka Pūnana Leo and Ke Kula Kaiapuni institutions are spread across 36 campuses throughout the State of Hawaiʻi.  And I understand that we struggle because over 90% of the faculty & staff at these schools are second-language speakers.  Will there be a day in my lifetime that I will run into a stranger, at least twice a week, that also speaks Hawaiian?

Some of the frustrations that I foresee in my career are how can I convince my students to speak Hawaiian day in and day out; how can I convince them that there is room for Hawaiian in the "real world"; how can I convince them that Hawaiian is not limited to just hula and music; and how can I convince them that everything they do from sports to grocery shopping, from family to coworkers they can use Hawaiian and Hawaiian World-View everyday?

I am really new to this world, I have a lot more to learn, and I have a lot of hard times coming up ahead, but I can see the abundant rewards just by affecting those twenty students everyday.  I love my kūpuna, I love my ʻohana, I love my hoaaloha, I love my hālau hula, and I love ko Hawaiʻi.

Whether you found this offensive or not, think about this...what are you doing everyday that truly affects someone personally?  Does this thing you do fulfill something important enough that this person can pay it forward and affect others?  For all Hawaiians (people of native Hawaiian ancestry), really think about this because if we all felt this way and applied to our Hawaiian world view as our kūpuna did, we would go very far or move further than we haven't done in decades.

E mālama pono kākou a pau kekahi i kekahi.

Hoʻokulāiwi & Ke Kula Kaiapuni ʻo Ānuenue

So...here it begins.

The first real step towards my career; it is not so much a future anymore as it is definitely within my grasps.

It has officially been over a month since I began my Observations and Student Teachings at Ke Kula Kaiapuni ʻo Ānuenue in the awaawa of Pālolo.  And I must say, it's been a great experience so far.

Of course, the beginnings are always full of nervousness, adrenaline, and tiredness.  I've never stepped foot into a Hawaiian Immersion classroom prior to this semester so I did not know what to expect at all.  As I sat in my first class, I remembered my freshman year at Roosevelt High School and the student teachers that sat in our classes and I remember thinking, "who the hell is that?"  As terrible as it sounds, I believe it to be quite normal from the mentality of a typical high school teenager.  Although, this is not your typical high school and these are not entirely your typical teenagers.

At my first Piko, Kaʻaimalani introduced me to the entire student body and high school kumu, and from that moment the students were more welcoming than I thought they would be.  Within that first week, some of the students would tell me good morning and how I was doing.  We definitely did not do that to our student teachers in my high school.

Fast forward four weeks later, and I have been blessed with students who appreciate my company and my assistance in their education.  I just hope and pray I get hired there after I complete and successfully graduate from the Hoʻokulāiwi program.  For the past week, I have already begun brainstorming in my head what lessons I want to teach and how I will teach them.  I've even gone as far as to wonder what new classes and programs I can contribute to the school that I have yet to see.

I have found my niche and my kuleana in life.

ʻO au iho me ka haʻahaʻa,
Kaipo

Bishop Museum-Hawaiʻi Hall (Kū i Ka Paia)

E hō mai ka ʻike mai luna mai e.

That was my manaʻo for today, for this whole first week of school basically.  For the first time, since its re-opening, I went to Hawaiʻi Hall at the Bishop Museum to help hoʻoulu a kupu i kuʻu naʻau.


(Photo: Honolulu Midweek/July 14, 2010/E Kū Ana Ka Paia, Bishop Museum-Hawaiʻi Hall/The unification of these three Kū back in Hawaiʻi after leaving approximiately over 150 years ago.

Hawaiʻi Hall is beautiful, I am really happy with the new renovations and restorations.  I am also very glad that all the exhibits were switched out and it now can be truly called "Hawaiʻi Hall".  All of the exhibits showcased artifacts from our people and our history.  I also got a re-awakening of who I am and why I am doing what I do.

I first walked in, with pale on the right wrist, did my little pule for myself and the kūpuna to hear.  I asked for protection, but I also asked to gain knowledge.  And there they were, Kū, the kiʻi carvings that once stood proudly at their respective heiau for our people to hoʻomana.  They are from a time period that is foreign to Hawaiians today, I am sad to say that the Kū had a very long return trip home only to come to a different Hawaiʻi.  But I honestly feel that they will help us further remember who we are and what we need to do.

At 1:00 p.m., I sat in on a "Ola Nā Moʻolelo" session, this one in particular about the events leading up to the overthrow and what happened after, entitled "Mai Poina ʻOe Iaʻu".  Lokomaikaʻi, one of the workers of Bishop Museum, played a Hawaiian woman living during the time of the Overthrow.  She entered singing/chanting "Kaulana Nā Pua" with tears in her eyes.  As she incorporated the events leading up to the Overthrow with her life experiences, I started crying.  I admit, I cry a lot during movies and stuff, but that is in the comfort of my home by myself.  It is not often I will cry in front of strangers in a brightly lit setting.  To hear again the fate of our people those hundred some years ago, way before even the birth of my grandparents, I had to cry; I had to let the naʻau speak for it was its way to remind me why I am Hawaiian.

Later, I made my way to the third floor of Hawaiʻi Hall and came across the silver ribbon that inspired the story I heard at 1:00. It was about a foot long, silver ribbon, with red text that read "Mai Poina ʻOe Iaʻu" and above it the signature from Queen Liliʻuokalani herself.  I cried again, luckily it was in the corner of the floor and I was by myself.  Firstly, I thought to myself, I wouldn't dare to forget our beloved Liliʻu and secondly, I was standing in front of something Liliʻu touched herself, her name that she wrote herself.  And nearby was Queen Liliʻokalani's gown that she wore to Kalākaua's coronation.  Her mana was definitely felt in that corner.

Down the corridor from the silver ribbon was something I did not know still existed.  Kāʻei Kapu o Līloa, Ka Malo o Līloa, and Nalukoki (Līloa's niho palaoa) were all in a display case right in front of me.  And there went the tears again.  I took Lilikalā's HWST 341: Hawaiian Genealogies class and learned about Līloa, his wahine ʻAkahiakuleana and their son ʻUmi-a-Līloa and about these items.  These items date back to the 1400s and I thought these items were lost or returned to the earth, but no.  To have something physical in front of you that had been touched by an Aliʻi from that long ago, hundreds of years even before Kamehameha  I himself is just awestruck.

Before I left, I finally made my presence in front of the Kū.  But before this, I hugged friends goodbye and my pale lāʻī came lose and then came off.  I was surprised, it lasted the entire 2 or 3 hours I spent in Hawaiʻi Hall, but just before I go to see Kū, it comes off.  I decided to still make my way to Kū, if anything bad happened or I had a bad feeling, I would turn away, but no.  I walked up to the three kiʻi and made my presence known to show respect of who I was and my intentions.  In my naʻau, I felt okay.  I felt confirmation that my intentions of working in Ka Papahana Kaiapuni Hawaiʻi (Hawaiian Immersion Education Program) is my kuleana now and the bigger picture is to help re-build our people to their highly esteemed status that they once held.  And no, I didn't cry again.  Although walking to observe Kū, the two security guards that sat away decided to sit closer to Kū.  I guess because I had the red Aloha Army t-shirt and with my long, tied back hair I looked like I would do something Kūʻē.  Look at the stereotyping for Hawaiians today, sheesh!

Overall, mahalo iā ʻoukou.  This is a great way to start my Masters program.  This is was a good welcome for me to get that much closer to really putting my mark in Hawaiian history.

E mālama nō kākou pākahi a pau kekahi i kekahi.

Mauʻumae Trail

One of the beautiful things of Oʻahu isn't only the City of Honolulu.  Before Wednesday, August 18, 2010, I have never heard of Mauʻumae Trail.  This trail is located on the right side of Pālolo Valley and it takes you along the top of the mountain ridge.  I have gone on a few hiking trails on Oʻahu, but this is by far the most difficult I had to do, but it was one of the most awe inspiring.

(Photo: Kaipo Tam/August 18, 2010/Mauʻumae Trail looking over Pālolo Valley)

As a part of our orientation in the Hoʻokulāiwi, Masters of Education-Teaching program, on the third day, we were brought to do this trail.  I was brought by Hawaiians to this trail and throughout this hike we spoke ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi.  A part of me felt like we brought some life back to this area, even though our kumu have gone on this hike numerous times before, I felt that our presence and our ʻŌlelo helped to give back to our kūpuna on that mountain.  To let them know that we are still here and still fighting and still showing love to them.

(Photo: Kaipo Tam/August 18, 2010/Mauʻumae Trail looking over Pālolo.  Waikīkī and Helumoa are in the far background.)

What made this hike so difficult was the walking up and down three hills along this ridge to get to our destination which was 2 miles in and a lot of parts along this trail were steep.  But I had to persevere and finish the hike in and back out.  When things became really difficult for me and I was ready to give up, I honestly uttered a short prayer in Hawaiian to ask for help from nā akua and nā kūpuna, and what do you know...every time I asked for help, a gentle, cool breeze came through pushing me in the direction we were going in.

(Photo: Kaipo Tam/August 18, 2010/Mauʻumae Trail looking over Pālolo.  Leʻahi (Diamond Head) in the background, viewing the back of the mountain.)

The view along this trail was incredible and the amount of lāʻau Hawaiʻi I saw up there were just as awesome.  I was meant to be up here and I am definitely going on the right path to my future by being in this graduate program with these persevering Hawaiians, who I can call my colleagues in a couple of years.  I won't forget this hike and I remember why I do what I do for my people.

"...When Kākuhihewa saw that there was peace under the rule of Kalelealuaka...he left Kapuaikaula in Puʻuloa (Pearl Harbor) and moved to Mauʻumae at Waiʻalae, on the other side of Kaimukī, facing Maunalua.  There he lived until he died.

Kalelealuaka
      Ke Au Hou, Dec. 14, 1910
      Oʻahu Places"

This is an excerpt from Sites of Oʻahu by Elspeth P. Sterling & Catherine C. Summers.  Page 276.

ʻImi Naʻauao

What does it feel like to know that your people (ethnic group/tribe) are achieving greatness and doing well on their own?  In my case, what does it feel like to be really proud to say that I am a Hawaiian, in this day and age of the 21st century when we are still considered the minority in our own ancestral land?

I had another epiphany moment last night.  I was awarded a generous scholarship from the Kamehameha Schools ʻImi Naʻauao program.  ʻImi Naʻauao is awarded to many native Hawaiian students in Graduate-level or graduate-equivalent programs ranging from education to medicine, and from law to business, but also from film and TV production to Hawaiian Studies.  I am very appreciative to be of that group of selected individuals.

To give a brief background, I was not one of the privileged few to attend the Kamehameha Schools.  Kamehameha Schools is the largest and wealthiest private education institution in the world, the endowment is worth an estimated $7.2 billion (as of June 2010) and yes, this school supports people with native Hawaiian ancestry. Harvard University, from what I read in an article, comes second to Kamehameha.

As I sat there during the orientation, eating a late dinner with the provided mini-mini-bento, I had to stop for a moment.  A video about (Princess) Pauahi's Legacy was playing, and I realized I was proud to be Hawaiian (again).  I sat in a room/building dedicated to Hawaiians, built with money from Hawaiians, in a room full of future Hawaiian professionals, watching a video about Hawaiians by Hawaiians, and I was receiving a scholarship with Hawaiian money. It definitely was a different sight to see from the norm for me.  I live in Chinatown and as I head to the bus stop every morning to go to school, all the Hawaiians I see are homeless, a drug addict, and/or in a gang and I count my blessings that my ʻohana has provided me.  On a daily basis, I see the negative effects of Missionary contact from over two hundred years ago; and obviously it continues to effects our people.

But for those two hours, I was so proud to see the other side of Hawaiians, although it can be seen as an everyday Western event that so happens Hawaiians are there.  Does your average American feel this way on a daily basis? Most likely not, and if they do, it's a different idea to them, to them they are proud to be American, as a nationality because it is NOT an ethnic group.  I am sure after the apartheid ended in South Africa and Nelson Mandela became President, this is how the African tribe(s) of that area felt.  For once, in a long time, they are in control and they do not need to feel like the minority and be underrepresented.

Think about the possibilities.

Papa Mau Piailug

One of the greatest people to ever give pride to my Hawaiian people has left the Earth that we walk on.

Papa Mau Piailug is a Pwo from the Island of Satawal.  He leaves behind a legacy not just for his people, but for all cultures of Moananuiākea (a.k.a. Pacific Ocean) of our modern times.  I never had the opportunity to meet Papa Mau, but I know quite a few people who did know him personally and his effect on them certainly came across to me and many other Polynesians.

As I went to sleep the night of the news, I couldn't help but to think again about everything I've learned.  And as I woke up the next day and revisited this blog about you, Papa Mau, I couldn't help but to tear up.  You come from an island at the other end of Moananuiākea, yet you went against your culture and taught my people, Hawaiʻi, how to navigate again.  I don't care what people say about Hawaiians learning navigation from someone else, the point is that we are looking to our origins.  Papa Mau, you helped to spark a whole new generation of Polynesians to remember the past.  As the title says in my last blog, "No Hea Mai ʻOe?"..."where are you from?"  From our dormant state, you woke us up and got us thinking.  As a dear kumu of mine from Maui Community College told me, "I have seen this generation grow up and you guys are definitely ready to take over from us."  And as I cry remembering that moment, I can only come to one conclusion, Kumu and Papa Mau are RIGHT!  Whether my generation wants to or not, but the kuleana is being passed onto us at this very moment.

To honor your legacy, Papa Mau, here is a hula Hawaiʻi dedicated to you from my Kumu Hula and my hālau hula, Ka Pā Hula o Ka Lei Lehua.

*By the way, embedding is disabled, but go ahead and click play and the link will say "Watch on YouTube"...follow that and the video will work*

Merrie Monarch 2007; Hilo, Hawaiʻi; Kāne ʻAuana Division

*Further reading of Pwo*

Pwo is the ranking of a master navigator in Satawal.  Not only can a Pwo read the stars, read the ocean currents, read the weather, but Pwo also knows how to survive on the canoe from fishing, cleaning, repairs.  If a sail had a tear, the Pwo knew how to weave to fix it.  Along with things at sea, the Pwo also knew how to mālama and hoʻoulu all the plants used in the canoe from the wood used for the waʻa to all the tools that are made from rocks and other natural cords.  *HWST 281/282; UH Mānoa; Kumu Pua Lincoln*

Honolulu Star-Advertiser: Voyager Guided Rebirth of Cultures

No Hea Mai ʻOe? (Where are you from?)

I am part-Hawaiian.  I am Hawaiian.

Since 2007, I began dancing for Ka Pā Hula o Ka Lei Lehua under the direction of Kumu Hula Snowbird Puananiopaoakalani Bento.  It was one of the greatest decisions I made in my life.  I appreciate my kumu's desire to humble our hālau and to remind us of who we are, where we come from, and why we do what we do.

(Photo: Honolulu Star-Bulletin Archives/October 16, 1998/Tom Lenchanko of Wahiawā Civic Club at the entrance to Kūkaniloko)

For the second time, we went to Kūkaniloko as a hālau.  If you don't know what Kūkaniloko is, here is the abbreviated Reader's Digest version.  Kūkaniloko is the birthplace of over 500 hundreds years of the highest chiefs of the Island of Oʻahu from as far back as possibly 1100 A.D. (in some accounts)  Kūkaniloko is the piko, the center, of not just Oʻahu, but the Paeʻāina Hawaiʻi (Hawaiian Islands).  With so much kuleana and kapu upon Kūkaniloko, this wahi is indeed sacred.

Why is it that I am in this hālau hula?  Why is it that I am fortunate to be taken to such a sacred place?  And why is it that I am given this knowledge first hand?  Either way, the point is what I, all of us for that matter, will do with the knowledge.

I hope there is someway that for those who don't know their own culture to make the effort to go in search for it.  As it is asked in ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi, "No hea mai ʻoe?" or "Where do you come from?" does not only mean what place you hail from, but this place you were born and raised also defines what kind of person you are.  And it doesn't matter if you were born in Honolulu, Los Angeles, or Tokyo, what matters is how you have grown and matured from your humble beginnings.  I guarantee you, from personal experience, if you make that effort to understand who you are and who your ancestors are, you will feel that much better inside and life clears up so much more.  For me, it finally felt like I have a purpose in life.  And for being only twenty-four years old, I think that is really darn good!

For further reading on Kūkaniloko:

• Honolulu Star-Bulletin
• Ka Wai Ola Newspaper from the Office of Hawaiian Affairs (OHA) (look at Page 11 of the July 2010 issue)

Me ka haʻahaʻa,
Kaipo

A Hawaiian Man

To start off my first blog, it is simply this, "A Hawaiian Man".  For the past few years of my life I have contemplated what it is like to be native Hawaiian in today's world where you have two extremities of Hawaiʻi.  On one end you have the stereotypical "Kūʻē Protester" and on the other you have the completely Westernized native Hawaiian who, unfortunately, is disconnected from his ʻāina and doesn't even realize that Hawaiʻi was a thriving nation with its own native people that excelled in areas, such as law, navigation, and composition that are unheard of today.

(Photo: Kaipo Tam/Kūʻē March in Waikīkī/01.17.09)

In this blog, I want to show people the observations I make of our people.  The differences between me and other observers are that I am indeed a native Hawaiian by ancestry, I am born & raised and currently living in Hawaiʻi, and I am from the next generation of budding "Kānaka Maoli" that will hold the future of our people soon.

And this blog is directed toward anyone interested in Hawaiʻi and its people.  This is to you, my peers, my kūpuna, my mākua, my moʻopuna, my educators, my people, and my friends of the past, present and future.  Whether you are Hawaiian, Hawaiian-by-heart, or out to look for trouble,-Yes, you know who you are.  The ones that want to disprove every blog and article they see out there with your uneducated thoughts.)-this blog is to give you the "upgrade" as a dear professor I had would say.  Before I end this post, I will constant remind you that this is the opinion of just me and none of any organization or institution.  If you would like to give me the "upgrade", by all means, I am more than welcome to other ideas.  Manaʻo pū kākou.

ʻO au iho me ka haʻahaʻa,
Kaipo