Circles

“Do you know why we do things in a circle? …Because if it’s a straight line, the energy just goes out and never comes back.” – Kawa‘a

Everyone looked around at each other. Who was going to do the pule? No one easily volunteered. We were working through the agenda of the event. I was a co-emcee, and they asked me to do it.

“I wonder, would it be nice to have another voice since we’ll be on the mic all day?” I asked. “Or surely a kupuna should be the one? Would Uncle Earl [Kawa‘a] want to?” That seemed like conventional wisdom.

“I know how to pule,” one person said. “So not me. Kawa‘a said, ‘I already know how to pule. The pule should be done by someone who doesn’t know how.’”

Well, that goes against what we often do. We want to honor our elders. He wants us to learn by doing, ma ka hana ka ʻike. Those of us who were nervous—would one of the younger ones be too shy to take him up on the opportunity, for fear of being judged or making some kind of mistake?

Without a mic, Uncle Earl, in his signature style, drew us in with his quiet voice. We noted it was, in a way, like Aunty Pua used to do: telling stories, having us tell each other how to play marbles as an analogy for the facilitation style he wanted us to learn. Having us teach each other, gain experience.

Aunty Pua came up throughout the day as we talked about systems change. I read “Calling the Circle” by Christina Baldwin as part of our opening. Kau‘i Sang discussed her great work in the DOE’s Office of Hawaiian Education and reminded us of Aunty’s question: “Are we counting what counts?” The keynote speaker, Uncle Ke‘ala, also reminded us of Aunty Pua and many other kūpuna who have left a significant legacy for us. “Believe, Behave, Belong, Become”—beautiful wisdom from Aunty Betty Jenkins. Nānā i nā kūpuna. We sat in concentric circles, and their wisdom surrounded us. It was a great day.

We had a group that met with Aunty Pua regularly. I’ve talked to you about us in this blog. Once we made it through the Building the Beloved Community curriculum, she had us work on our own principles, and we took turns facilitating each other. We researched and read poems we had found aloud, watched TED Talks, and shared more about our lives. We told stories; we wrote. We tried to catch the magic of Aunty’s principles and practices of building beloved communities by creating our own. But her seemingly effortless simplicity is hard to attain. Wisdom is hard won, from a lifetime of narratives and experiences, unfolding, unfolding like concentric circles. Aunty also had a unique ability to discern a lesson from the seemingly mundane activities of everyday life (though her life was hardly mundane—not everyone gets to meet the Dalai Lama!). We had good discussions; we drew each other out and learned more about each other. Aunty enjoyed being a participant and not facilitating all the time.

There’s something there about learning and apprenticeship. The master teaches, and we observe. A circle. Then they provide safe spaces for us to practice and learn. Another layer of the circle. They do not correct to be harsh. They encourage us to learn and grow. Our actions are reflections upon them—they are responsible for us. Their genealogies, both biological and otherwise, have made this possible. Circles again.

Was there a time when you were figuratively asked to pule, and you hesitated? Or did you meet the opportunity head-on? Where are you providing those opportunities to others, if you have the chance? Which circles are you a part of, as a future ancestor?

Mahalo,

Dawn

Calling the Circle
By Christina Baldwin

It has always been scary
To step into the circle of firelight,
To show up in the company of strangers,
To ask for entrance or to offer it. Our hearts race —

Will we have the courage to see each other?
Will we have the courage to see the world?
The risks we take in the twenty-first century
Are based on risks human beings took
Thousands of years ago.

We are not different from our ancestors,
They are still here, coded inside us.
They are, I believe,
Cheering us on.

Photo taken 11/18/25 in Santa Barbara, California