There’s been a lot of conferences lately in the local scene. I was fortunate enough to present at our local non-profit conference last week, HANOCON. Walking into the big hall and seeing everyone waiting for it to start was a bit overwhelming—raucous, packed, so many folks from across the sector. It’s good to come together to learn, celebrate, mourn, all the things. The conference was as excellent as it always is.
After our session, I was so excited to talk to one of our partners who was there, who I’ve not spent time with because he works remotely from another island. We were super into the conversation, and I noticed a young man standing close but not too close, not making eye contact, but waiting. He seemed vaguely familiar. Greeting him, it all came back to me! He had been a high school student back when I was at KKV. My colleague, Aunty Innocenta, had taken him under her wing. He remembered me and all the work we did back then. It was so cool to see him and hear that he’s an amazing community advocate and working for the amazing preventive law program that was started when I was at KKV that we all collaborated with. It’s still going amazingly strong until this day, and he helps his community through this program. I hope we get together to all revisit soon.
This reminded me of our work in community when I was at KKV. We were in the middle, a place I seem to find myself often. Our grant program, Health Through Action or Lei Hīpu‘u o Kalihi was a collective action program tasked with supporting the well-being and early childhood needs of immigrant Kalihi families, mainly Filipino, Samoan, Chuukese, and Native Hawaiian. We were part of a national cohort.
By the time I left KKV after 7 years, the demographics of the community had completely shifted, with the Chuukese community being one of the fastest growing groups in Hawai‘i. I worked with Aunties from all of these ethnicities to interview community members, learn about their best child-rearing practices, how they wanted to raise healthy children, and what their values were. I did door-to-door outreach with Mama Melaia at Kalihi Valley Homes, and hung out with her and Mama Merina in the clinic early in the morning before most staff came to work. I sat in the lunch room with everyone and ate food from all over the Pacific, and soon transitioned my work station to be up at KKV’s 99-acre nature preserve, Ho‘oulu ‘Āina.
Quickly I realized that for some communities and constituencies, I was not the right person to engage due to my gender and status. I was not bothered by this, but I needed a solution. I met an amazing community leader during one of the interviews. We ended up hiring her, and the rest was history. She is still at KKV running an amazing youth program in KPT public housing (I can’t call it by any other gentrified name) for youth, youth like the young man I ran into at the conference last week.
Inno and I were invited to speak at a conference early on. I had worked with my awesome artist colleague at that time, Solomon Enos, to develop a cultural model to represent what I had learned so far about family values and childrearing from a Native Hawaiian perspective. Solly had helped to develop a metaphor, and in his genius artist way, translated it into a beautiful piece of art representing a dry land taro patch. In this model, the baby taro grows up to be like its parents, and the rain and sun provide resources. The taro leaves point out and down, sharing with its neighbors and family members. The soil represents the cultural values that make the community, family, the child strong. In this model, the social services, the supports, they are not the focus of the garden or the image; their job is to show up at the right time in the right amount lest they smother, burn, or neglect the needs of the family. It was a very fun and effective metaphor. The original painting hung in the Maternal Child Health department at KKV until it got eaten by bugs and fell apart.
At the Hawai‘i Alliance for Community-based Economic Development conference on Hawai‘i Island, we presented on a panel with someone from Salesforce. I have no idea why Bob Agres put us up to that, but he did! After our session was over, someone came up to us. It was an Aunty. She said that she really loved the metaphor and story, and we struck up a conversation. Her name was Aunty Pua Burgess. Aunty Pua asked Innocenta about her work and community. That was the first time we all met; after that, Innocenta, our colleague Mark and I would visit Aunty Pua regularly. She told Inno that she needed to develop her own metaphor, her own story for her community to help show their values and strength. An amazing storyteller, Inno thought about it and a story came to life. So many stories. She helped to use those stories to advocate for her community, especially when the state decided to cut her people off of health care, which resulted in many deaths. We did so much advocacy at that time to combat this, and Innocenta and her community were on the forefront of those battles. Thankfully, access to healthcare was restored, but not for years.
Since that time, Innocenta has published several children’s books, and was part of two plays that toured nationally sharing the story, the struggle, and the strength of her community and her people. How inspiring!
Who are the people you meet at conferences that inspire you? What is the story of your community and your work, in a metaphorical sense? What question would Aunty Pua ask you right now if she were here?
Move over Xena! For a great short story about Lien Apinam, warrior princess of Lukunor, check out this out old video we made: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OcwwPQ3v6ag&t=29s
Mahalo nui,
Dawn
Huli at Ulupō. Photo taken 8/31/19.