He Wahī Paʻakai: A Package of Salt

To love the Pacific, in sight, story, and smell

For my Papa, Wray Straus Me and Papa on the day I left Hawaiʻi and moved to Aoteaora to pursue a PhD, 2012. When I was a little girl, I remember visiting my Papa’s house, each time greeted by the usual scent of mothballs and dampness, the kind of dampness that comes with living on the “wet side” of Waimea, the side that often gets caught in fog and rain. Whenever I catch a whiff of these…

A Future Built by Stories

The following address was written for a panel entitled “Vā Moana.” The panel was part of Talanoa Mau, a gathering of artists, creatives, thinkers, and doers held at The Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa on the 24th and 25th of February 2020. Talanoa Mau, organized by Lemi Ponifasio, sought to address critical questions about what it means to be human in today’s world.

Yesterday, a…

For Kia Mau

August 31, 2019, Ihumātao

Tina Ngata once said, “To be born Indigenous is to be born into a political reality.”

Today our political reality is walking perimeters lined with native trees at Ihumātao,

recalling when Quine Matata-Sipu told me the story of their maunga, the one they once had to send karakia to through a blockade of armor,

as if weapons can detain prayers.

“If your…

Twelve Prayers for Mauna Kea (one for every hour between sunrise and sunset)

E kuʻu mauna, to my dear mountain,

I pray that you are guarded and protected. I pray that our collective prayers shelter you, cloaking you in a shield of aloha, surrounding you and embracing you like Kūkahauʻula does your slopes everyday, adorning you in shades of pink.

I pray that you are seen, truly seen, not as a “site” and not as “contested space” or the location of conflict. I pray that you…

Sunrise, Te Whanganui a Tara

Lost in Wellington             for my love of Te Whanganui a Tara

It’s quite insidious if you think about it.

Give them names to speak over and over again for direction With no alternatives they’ll be forced to reinforce one story

Slowly your mouth finds comfort around names that may have cut in earlier times

You release a tiny breath for Wakefield, Your tongue hits the roof…

Dear Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson

Dear Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson,

You don’t know me, of course. I was once one of your adoring fans, captivated by your wide smile, your muscled humor, your bulging, pulsating, titillating

voice.

Then one day you lent your voice to a singing and dancing mockery of my fisher of islands, my keeper of fire, my kupua from moananuiākea,

Maui.

And I remembered what Maui once said, “Moʻa aʻela no kā ka…

To love beyond love: a letter to Hawaiʻi

Roots

E kuʻu Hawaiʻi,

I want a word for this, for this ache. Maybe the word is “love.” But even “love” comes with expectations and definitions. Even “love” cages and binds us to what is familiar, what is understood, what has already been assigned words. “Love” cannot describe what it is to touch you, to put my hands to your soil and smell you, to wake up curled into your slow-moving silences: a…

at the rim: towards a truly pacific Pacfic

RIMPAC 2012 (https://www.strategypage.com/military_photos/military_photos_20120722221539.aspx)

pacific adjective / pa .Ÿ cif Ÿ. ic

1 a: tending to lesson conflict: conciliatory b: rejecting the use of force as an instrument of policy

2 a: having a soothing appearance or effect b: mild of temper

3 capitalized: of, relating to, bordering on, or situated near the Pacific Ocean

RIMPAC noun / rim Ÿ. pac

1

The stories we choose to tell ourselves about ourselves.

This keynote address was presented at the annual Kuʻi ka Lono Conference on April 20, 2018. The conference theme this year was “E hoʻā mana.” 

Hoʻā mana. What does it mean to ignite mana? Is it to inspire or to encourage? Is it to give someone authority, rights, or privileges? Is it to empower?

When I think of hoʻā mana, and I reflect on what it looks like (or feels like) to have a fire lit…

False Alarm: why we should be rethinking someone’s “mistake”

A screenshot of the emergency alert issued on the morning of January 13th, and 38 minutes later, the news that it was a false alarm.

If you were in Hawaiʻi on January 13th, 2018, you most likely have a story about the nuclear missile alert. If asked, you could probably recount exactly where you were, who you were with, and what you felt or thought (if you indeed felt or thought anything other…

Kuʻu hae Hawaiʻi, University of Hawaiʻi-West Oʻahu, November 28th, 2017

“I pledge allegiance to the flag…”

I can’t remember the last time I recited these words out loud. It’s been at least a decade (maybe two). But, if made to do so, I’d know every word. In fact, as I write this, the old, familiar lines come back to me:

“…with liberty and justice for all.”

They are imprinted in my childhood…

Wellington, New Zealand, 2015, with Oceania Interrupted. Photo by Andrew Matautia.

Dear Owen,

You were just a young student. Eighteen years old. You rode a motorcycle, carried a noken, or a woven bag native to your home, a symbol of Papua. And with it, you carried a flag.

A Morning Star.

I sometimes wonder about you, trying to imagine what you must have been like: so young, so brave, so full of…

Take a deep breath

“I nui ke aho a moe i ke kai.” Take a deep breath and lay in the ocean.

Prophets were said to be “he poʻe makaʻu ʻole,” or a fearless people. Not only did they have the courage to utter their prophecies before chiefs, no matter the consequence, but they were also brave enough to follow those prophecies, even when they spoke of their own demise. One such person was Kaʻōpulupulu, the prophet of…

Changing the Narrative: When the stories we tell no longer help us

“The work of a contemporary warrior is to take the responsibility to be a self-actualized individual.”

– Cornel Pewewardy

With my dad, my self-actualized, indigenous warrior. Waimea, Hawaiʻi. 

There are many things I’m not good at.

My dad often talks about my intelligence. “If I had your brains,” he often says, sighing and shaking his head, “I could’ve done so much more with my life.” On the top…

She leaned toward the microphone, looked out at the nearly one hundred new students seated before her, and in an introduction to Pacific Studies, she said, in her poetic way—a way that only she could—

“I eat, breathe, sleep, and shit the Pacific.”

She wasn’t lying.

I never knew a woman with a greater dedication, a greater love, a greater sense of belonging to our sea of islands. Teresia Teaiwa…