7 minute read
Culture, Not a Costume
the forgotten fight for Hawaiian rights
by elara Montana
A checklist of party supplies: Plastic flowers on strings and counterfeit frons woven around propane cans disguising themselves as tiki torches. Slices of sweet pineapple with its fluorescent yellow flesh and tropical drinks adorned with festive little umbrellas. Garish green streamers spun into skirts and Hawaiian t-shirts—all tied together with understated, but moving ukulele music.
The coveted “Hawaiian Luau” is a classic party theme—hell, I’ve worn a fake lei a time or two. Even as I participated in these charades, I always found these “luaus'' unsettling as a Kanaka Maoli (kaanuh-kaa may-ow-lee)— a person of Hawaiian descent. Like a costume for everyone to play dress-up.
Almost every time I have revealed my ethnicity, I have been met with mocking hand motions or have been forced to watch people mimic the songs my people sung. I would walk down the streets and see tribal tattoos on people who have never known my culture and see my people continually excluded from the conversation.
Growing up and experiencing these things, I always felt an overwhelming discomfort, but I never saw anyone saying it was wrong.
After all, if no one says anything, is it really an issue? I also faced the internal dilemma of not feeling “Hawaiian enough” because I was raised on the mainland and am only half Hawaiian.
Who was I to say whether it was right or wrong?
Even though I was immersed in my culture and grew up continually visiting the islands to see my family, I still felt inadequate. That was until I began talking with other Kanakas and seeing their own expressions of discomfort when it comes to a haole’s (Hau-lee)—a foreigner; someone who is not of Polynesian descent—attitude towards our culture.
When it comes to Hawaiian culture, there is no discussion. Just unheard pleas from people who want their issues addressed and recognition for the culture that was once stripped from them.
Shantel Adolpho, my aunt, was born and raised on the islands.
“Growing up we had no worries as kids. We feared nothing but our parents and our elders of course,” she remembers.
Aunty Shanny, as I call her, took me through her everyday life as a child, telling me how she would always rush through her chores so she and her friends could go out and explore. we could go,” she says. “We hiked and explored everywhere; we went fishing, spearing or to the beach to swim.”
They would eat fruit from trees if they were hungry, asking their aunties and uncles if they could pick them from their backyard.
“Life was simple for us. We never needed much because we were never bored,” she says.
On the island, life was a breeze. She never felt like she didn't belong. But all of that changed when she moved to the mainland for college in the ‘90s.
“I was stared at and idolized by people because of my features and golden brown skin, which felt uncomfortable,” she says. “I do think it comes from a place of curiosity and understanding, but there were definitely a lot of assumptions made, and crazy questions asked.”
Aunty Shanny’s experience on the mainland speaks to the bigger issue of ignorance when it comes to Hawaii.
The islands have a long and complicated history that is practically non-existent in mainstream education. I recall my own experience growing up and taking various history courses, which almost never included the historical events of the islands. My personal knowledge came later from my family.
“Many things have taken place between then and now, like the illegal overthrow of Hawaii and the continued illegal occupation over it still today,” Aunty Shanny explains.
Most Hawaiian people don’t speak the Hawaiian language, “so it’s hard to judge any full Hawaiian events without that understanding…almost all resources about the event are in the foreign language of English, therefore providing a foreign perspective.”
“We all have been under the war crime of denationalization, which is why we don’t speak our language and don’t understand enough about the demolition of the ʻai kapu,’ (ah kah-poo)” she says—an ancient Hawaiian code of conduct that applies to universal lifestyle, gender roles, politics, and religion.
Years before Hawaii was thrust into statehood, the islands were led by a beloved nobility called the ali’i (ah-lee-ey) as a sovereign state.
“During this time, everyone spoke Hawaiian and lived Hawaiian,” she notes.
This was until 1887, when two missionaries who were appointed government positions formed a political party—The Missionary Party—to overthrow the ali’i in order to pursue business ventures, according to National Geographic. In a meeting between the party, and King Kalākaua, the ali’i were forced to sign new legislation that passed over power to the party under the eyes of an all-white militia.
With the Missionary Party in control, a majority of Hawaiians were effectively stripped of their right to vote, to own land, and to speak the language of their people. Though Queen Lili’uokalani, who acquired the throne after her brother's passing, fought to reinstate the monarchy’s power and bring back her people’s rights, it was all for naught.
By 1898, Hawaii was annexed and became the fiftieth U.S. state. Despite all of the challenges the people of Hawaii have faced, they stayed strong and did everything they could to keep their culture alive.
“Our people were almost wiped out because of all the foreign influence,” Aunty Shanny says. “But we were smart, and fought for our people; we fought to be Hawaiian… and still today we fight and fight everyday. We fight the continued desecration of our lands and waters, and we fight for sovereignty.”
After decades of cultural oppression, a new wave of Kanaka Maoli have taken steps to reclaim their identity.
Mālie Lyman, an 18-year-old from Hawaii, took her culture and turned it into a career.
At the age of five, she learned to play the ukulele from her mom, which launched her love of music. From the ukulele, she then moved onto the steel guitar—an instrument popularized in Hawaiian music— which became her calling card.
“Under the direction of uncle Alan Akaka,” she says, “I was mastering this instrument and bringing back a nearly dead style of playing.”
She continued to grow as a musician, eventually touring around the world and playing with Hawaiian music legends like Jack Johnson and Paula Fuga. She attributes all of her success to her family. In fact, she says she got started in music to preserve the legacy of her great grandmother, Genoa Keawe, a beloved singer.
“It helps that the music tradition started with my great grandma, so it kind of came as an expectation,” she says. “The doors were opened for me and ready for whenever I was.”
Maliē is one of the many younger Kanakas who are doing all they can to better connect with and understand her heritage, and music is her way of doing that.
“Music is just like aloha. It brings everyone together regardless of where you came from,” she says.
While many Hawaiian natives have taken back their cultural identity, there is still a lot of work to be done outside of the islands. Many people that live on the mainland are uneducated about Hawaiian culture and the proper etiquette that comes with visiting the islands.
If you want to become an ally to the Hawaiian people, here are three steps you can take:
1. Educate Yourself on Hawaiian Issues
There are dozens of injustices that happen everyday to Hawaiian natives. From the de-homing of hundreds of Kanaka Maolis, to the destruction of sacred land, there is still a constant battle for Hawaiians to protect and preserve the place they call home. By better educating yourself on these endeavors, you can help amplify these natives’ voices and share a story that often goes unheard.
2. Respect Sacred Cultural Practices
While tribal tattoos may seem cool, and hula dancing can be fun, we must remember that there is a fine line between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation. While Hawaiian culture is usually left out of the conversation when it comes to cultural appropriation, it’s important to remember that Hawaii has a rich history that deserves just as much respect as any other culture.
3. Be an Informed Visitor
