Blazing Stars and Shark Eyes
September 25th, 2009Read the rest of this entry »
I was a kid in the 40âs and 50âs, a time when it still was not cool to be Hawaiian. Kamehameha, my school from seventh through twelfth grade, even though instituted for Hawaiian children, sought to make us thoroughly American. Which I was. Except for those âaboriginal twingesâ and a gaping hole in my heart. I consciouslyâand self-consciouslyâpursued article assignments to learn about being Hawaiian as well as to write about specific topics. I learned about hula, heiau, the Hawaiian diet. I spent three days on Kahoâolawe during January Makahiki ceremonies, addressed a personal health problem through lomilomi, sailed for an afternoon on the voyaging canoe HĆkĆ«leâa. Eventually I came to know dozens of people in the Hawaiian community. They all welcomed me, especially after I learned to approach any Hawaiian by placing myself in my family, school, and community. I think it is todayâs version of what some have told me was the ancient recitation of genealogy between strangers until they came to a point of commonality. Never mind the journalism degrees and writing achievements. I am the younger Pierre Bowmanâs older sister, Uncle Wrightâs niece, Scottyâs cousin. I am KS â58. I am Kailua, Oâahu. Now we can talk.