Aloha mai kākou,
As I sit here writing under the bright, dark māhealani moonlight, I want to say that my heart feels really full like the best, biggest, juiciest manapua. But then I think of cholesterol and wonder if that’s not such a great metaphor after all.
Ok, my heart feels full-moon full because I have been privileged to witness the long efforts and dreams come true of incredible leaders this past week. Leaders with an incredible amount of life experience, more than most people face. Through their own hardships, they knew others needed something that they had received in difficult times. They profoundly understood the value of this need and sought to meet it, sometimes seemingly against all odds.
I am grateful to have witnessed the journey of the Asian Pacific American Women’s Leadership Institute since before 2015 through the eyes of Aunty Pua and her dear friend Martha Lee, who founded the program. I was an APAWLI fellow in the 2015-2016 cohort. This past weekend, we celebrated the 30th anniversary of APAWLI in San Francisco, with many sisters from several generations coming together to celebrate. (My friend Susan, who isn’t affiliated with the group, called the elder sisters the “bigwigs” in the Asian American community. She must be right, as an up-and-coming bigwig herself.)
Many of the older sisters shared that in their journeys, they felt isolated in their work, in their careers. But APAWLI brought them peer mentorship; APAWLI allowed them to dream and reckon and resource their paths as leaders in mostly-white corporate and community spaces, and expand those safe spaces to others. It validated who they are, their culture and the gifts they bring. So much has grown from that. These women went forward and changed the world. The sisterhood they gained from the circles convened by Martha, Aunty Pua, Kay Iwata, Peggy Nagae, Cheryl Lupenui, Rosie Abriam, and others made this possible.
In June of 2024 Aunty Pua asked us:
“When did you first know that you belonged, and how did you know that you did? …And do you offer that service to others, helping others to belong? Where do you belong, and how do you know?”
As a corollary to this, I asked our group: Is belonging a privilege? What does it look like, smell like? Is there a how, not just a what, to belonging?
Our friend David Rojas Jr. has been working in his neighborhood in Chicago, Little Village, to create spaces of safety and belonging for young people for over 10 years. Indeed, it was 10 years ago that he came to a reception at a conference in Chicago for the large Hawai‘i group in attendance. Aunty Pua had come with us too. This young man was invited by LT because they had recently visited him and knew his good work.
From there flowed a ton of synergy and connection over the years that feels guided by our kūpuna. David and Aunty Pua struck up a close relationship, and he joined our longest standing cohort that meets until today.
Last week David spoke at a conference in Hawai‘i. He was on a panel with a local judge, and Mark Patterson. When asked how we could help youth overcome the challenges they face, David shared that for him, the most important thing is mentorship. Perhaps a sense of belonging and guided growth. Knowing David, I know that what closely follows are pathways for youth to identify their curiosity, their gifts, and then enact them in ways that allow them to earn money, make connections, and move towards futures full of opportunity and hope. All this in a community that is extremely physically unsafe, is remarkable. He is building a new future with the next generation of youth in his neighborhood and beyond under the constant threat of gunfire.
This reminds me of the training that we do with Danny Goya on trauma-informed care and resilience. Danny teaches that to mitigate abuse and neglect, we need safety and connection. Belonging is an important part of this. People who don’t feel like they belong can suffer from isolation. Aunty Pua always cautioned us—if someone shared their Guts on the Table and didn’t have much to say about their community, if they did their Vision Map and didn’t have anyone to support them, it was a cue to gently dig deeper and find ways to connect that person.
This past week was hard, and it was full—not just with events, synergy and reconnection, but full emotionally. However, I reflect on the ways that Aunty Pua and the people that she surrounded herself with strive to create spaces of safety, belonging, and aloha. Of hope. It makes me happy and grateful, full like a full moon on the day of lunar eclipse to be part of the continuing circle of practitioners who continue on and on however we can, a year after Aunty’s passing.
So I ask you: When did you first know that you belonged, and how did you know that you did? …And do you offer that service to others, helping them to belong? Where do you belong, and how do you know?
Yours in the journey,
Dawn
PS: See how the moss and the rocks are as familiar to each other as salmon and stream, wind and sky, you and me in the garden of (be)longing.
Photo taken 9/7/25 in San Francisco.
Resources: https://capaw.org/ | https://www.ta98.org/ | @thealliance98