A Conversation with Kumu Kaleo Hanohano

By Susan Galpin-Tyree

What a privilege it is to have spent time with Kaleolani Hanohano. She is a Department of Education veteran with a focus on the development of Smaller Learning Communities, Academies, and Aina-based Education. She is a Native Hawaiian and Indigenous Curriculum and Assessment Development consultant, and teacher – Kumu. Kumu Kaleo also plays an integral role as teacher for CGEST’s Hawaii-based residential camp programs.

Thank you, Kumu Kaleo, for your time. When and how did you and CGEST form from what has become a years-long working relationship?

It was a nice phone call and an email in 2019 from CGEST requesting some assistance on getting a few girls in my high school academy classes to join Girls in Tech (GIT), CGEST’s first residential camp on Oʻahu. After that initial invitation to recruit a few of my students, another email was sent to ask if I might want to participate in just a section, maybe teach one cultural aspect or join in on the lesson.

I wanted to know exactly what the program needed. After a discussion and a few emails back and forth, I learned that students would be invited from all islands, which was great. The student who could come would be one who had a passion for STEM. And then those who may not feel that way, or they weren't too sure, might come with a friend. And so, I said, yes, I'll be a part of this program.

Then I received another email from CGEST. Kaleo, it looks like you have a large group of girls. How about joining us as one of our partners and becoming an educator with us? We are looking at students from across the Pacific Islands, from even as far. as I recall, from China and Guam, parts of Micronesia, and Samoa or Tonga.

I found out that the team was meeting at HPU. And I said, what a great honor and privilege. Why don't you come to our school, I asked. We can greet you all in a Native Hawaiian fashion. We’ll introduce you to our principal so he will also be involved in this event, too, and we’ll add more partnerships within the Department of Education community where we have this consortium of college educators, high school principal administrators, as well as teachers and their students. I really like to bridge that way. I find it to be much more successful when all parties involved get to meet each other. And, most importantly, longevity. I wasn't sure about the longevity of this program, but I thought it was so dynamic in its infancy, reaching so far in the Pacific. I said, yes, this is great. Let's see it work, especially for the young women in our communities and our marginalized communities that really don't see any kind of program like this. Oh, that's fantastic! That's how we got started.

What was so important about this project?

What is so important about this project is that it involved colleagues outside of the program that were maybe not aware of it and weren't able to send youth to the program. But as it turns out, there was grant funding for not only transportation, but for accommodation, for both students and mentor teachers.

And again, another email came to me saying, Kaleo, we need dynamic educators in the STEM fields who you feel would be really excited about this. Colleagues agreeing to participate came from the Hakalau Preservation Program on Hawaiʻi Island. Educators from the Ahupua'a Sustainable Systems Network in our master's programs with Dr. Pauline Chinn were also invited. Through this partnership six teachers signed up; two from SEEQS Charter School who were sharing our campus at Kaimuki High School, a teacher from Voyager Charter School, and three teachers from Halau Kū Mana. I reached out to educators in my DOE school complex, and two teachers from Ali`iolani Elementary were excited to join in. I believe our school librarian, Hospitality Academy Vice Principal and our Principal registered for the conference. My principal told me that he wanted to free his schedule and offer up the time to come to Hawai`i Island to be there when the girls were to present their projects. Mind you, this was during spring break 2020 when the COVID virus arrived on our shores in Hawai`i. It seemed to have no bearing. It was as if this effort was a canoe and we were moving harmoniously into the unknown together.

We worked hard, all dynamically in our own spaces, via the internet. We only met once and in that moment with these scientists the enthusiasm and energy kept us connected. Everybody started to work hard. And, funding started to fall from the sky. And every two weeks, or three days, I would get an email, Kaleo, we have lodging for these teachers who might want to stay two more days? Kaleo, we have transportation for these teachers. We can provide airfare. Can you get them to come? I began to say yes to everything with gratitude because I know that this type of professional development comes once maybe twice in a teacher's career, but never in Hawai`i. Oh, yes, the teachers would come!

Your commitment to the islands, to first culture, is your passion.

To the kanaka maoli (Hawaiian) the lei is a garland of tremendous sacrifice. The flowers and leaves are picked at the peak of perfection, from our ancestors who give off bio-energy. Then with care and love the lei is fashioned by hands, and from the soul of an ancestor who gives off bio-energy to string you into their heart and home. When the lei is given it is cool, fragrant and heavy on your shoulders. It is as if this kanaka person has given you this beautiful hug and then a kiss that leaves this remnant of love on you. The lei is an adornment that is given to you at its best time. All the flowers and leaves are at their peak. And if you take the time to inspect closely the flowers have petals that have left the tree and its leaves and branches. This tree is our ancestor who gave all its energy to this one lei so that it could be put around your neck. When you're given this, the weight of it may seem light at the moment it's given to you, but then it starts to get heavy. And when that feeling of heaviness starts to actually get around your shoulders and it starts to hang from the back of your neck, this fragrance from your skin and your body starts to emanate. When this fragrance starts to emanate and goes into your whole being, then you become part of this lei, the fragrance of it becomes yours, its whole energy becomes yours. The bio-energy transfer has begun, the beautiful lei starts to die on you. And you can feel it almost getting softer, losing its depth and color as it withers away. Everything that was perfect has passed on and now given to you. What are you going to do with that? What is your response to the offering of lei-love and how do you honor that bio-energy? Lei-love is rare and when given it, it is more than just a string of flowers, it is an exchange of `aina (land) literacies that are ages old. This lei-love is my passion inherited from my granny and taught to me by my kūpuna. To tell the stories to our children so they can connect to their rich indigeneity.

I get goosebumps as you tell me this story, Kumu. It is so impactful.

And, so, in the ʻŌlelo noʻeau it says, if this lei is given to you and it's on your shoulders and it's given to you at its peak of greatness and as its energy starts to decline and it becomes part of you, what do you do with that energy, that energy of Aloha? For me, it's really these discussions of 'āina literacies. Like just now you got goosebumps, and yet it's only because you know that transparence, you have that intergenerational discussion in yourself about a time when someone gave you a plant, or maybe it is a memory of a garden or your favorite flower or your grandma or your auntie or your uncle or even a professor that is endearing to you that gave you something so awesome and now it is embodied in you and every day you get up you feel that bio-energy. You feel it, you know it in yourself, and you must go out and you have to push it and you have to give it and you have to move it.

That's the passion that I have. That's the passion of this Indigenous identity to 'āina literacies. You and I both have this. It's our place. It's where we come from. We step outside and we can already feel this lei, smell those flowers and feel this tug in whatever direction, north, south, east, or west. Maybe it's just straight up. So that is that question that you have there about this cultural commitment to island and first culture. I think it's also that eb and flow and that tug that we feel.

This discussion also is folded in Hawaiian language. Hawaiian language is so much a part of that tug and flow, that to be separated from it is the greatest challenge that all first peoples face. Native kanaka must challenge themselves daily to stay in touch with our languages, that is within the realm of kanaka awareness because if you're only in the English realm, you cannot see both sides. You cannot live in this world on both sides. You can become very confused, and lose your indigeneity to the ease of colonialism and acculturation. First Peoples must be given those rights and privileges to learn, teach, speak and use their languages in whatever form that is.

Tell me about your current passion project.

Currently, my passion project is to dedicate teacher time and resources to the Hawaiian language programs at my school, and to make Hawaiian Language teachers feel and see their value. To have them return to the excitement and energy they once had to build indigenous curriculum that can bring our children closer to the language. My first effort to help us gain financial support through grant writing and developing corporate and community partnerships and localize into a Hawaiian Language academy. The second thing is to create a place based and `aina based curriculum identifying STEMS as interdisciplinary. Third is to create huaka`i (field study) events for students to meet experts, elders and community that can slowly build a bridge into Hawaiian Language, pono leadership, ahupua`a restoration and much much more.. The purpose for the passion is that currently, our students understand the world through their native language, yet they cannot speak their language, so it is confusing. There is something telling them that they are different, and it translates as though something's wrong with them. Yet, there is a connection to the culture, language, art, history of the indigenous or the First Peoples that our child can feel inside of them. Many of our students do well once they bridge that gap and make that connection. But, many still struggle. This is why supporting Hawaiian Language teachers and encouraging them to value their station and positions in the community is critical to meeting the needs of our children in Hawai`i.

This is in alignment with the notion of the power we have in breath – when we give voice with authentic language to our thoughts. That age-old question of “who am I” resonates with every human. It speaks of our most basic need: our need for identity.

Yes, I totally agree with you. If you had asked me when I was 12 or 15 if that was a part of my identity, I would have disagreed because it stopped in my family when my grandfather died. I was seven and it was a crushing blow to me. It caused me trauma. That trauma lifted later after I was invited to be a part of Hawaiian Language learning again as an adult. I didn't know until that moment that I was volunteering to be a part of my indigenous language again. I just had to really put myself in that space to say I was a speaking member as a child, so how do I return to my language?. To be invited back into my language space again really made me realize that that's the problem with a lot of our children and even families or even our people in general. We know that we are proud Hawaiians, but sadly it is difficult to address the reality that we do not speak our language. Maybe we have not yet been invited in the correct way, or by the right person to return to our beloved language. We know we're Hawaiian, we know that we speak Hawaiian, maybe in our head or heart or in our DNA we feel it living inside. That's one large part of the trauma indigenous peoples face. So, in some cases, like mine I felt invited again, to try again, to be a part of it again in another form of myself. It gives rise to the notion that teachers in schools can be allies and friends to the cause and encourage students to continue to try and learn their native language. Teachers can advocate that those classes are critical to a students social emotional learning and wellbeing. Teachers can encourage students by invitation to try again. I don't think we give enough opportunities. And, as we age, maybe we want to try it again.

As we end our conversation, do you have any other thoughts I may share with our readers?

I felt that GIT and the collaboration that first year to be so genuine in their development of the program and useful with the spark of different ideas from everyone to develop not one, not two, but it looked like almost three or four pieces, which was only going to be a one-year shot deal. And they went for it – plowing forward.

And then COVID hit. And all I have to say is those women pioneers of GIT who were working from all corners of the STEMS realm are remarkable wahine. This collaborative consortium between HPU, CGEST at ASU, and other partners, truly gave me this kind of looking glass to see what is possible on just the smallest level.

I can see what we as teachers in our classrooms should be doing, could be doing, who we could partner with, who might be the people out there looking for us, and who we might need to improve our teaching. In all honesty, this system of collaboration has changed my teacher identity and my approach to action research. I am forming a partnership mindset that takes students and teachers outside of the fence, allowing the yes to happen more often. I am done with the teacher voice that constantly says these things too often, maybe, let me think on it, let me see. I am now all about saying yes and falling into it and finding out where you end up, which is something that we are not taught as teachers to do. So, it's safe, we're safe all the time, we're always playing safe and that's great because our profession is worried about liability. And, we should be mindful of hurting our students. But, safe means protecting an image of the school and people and I am not sure if that is in alignment with what kanaka today need. School districts, administrators and teachers are liable if we do not do the extra, we do not go outside of the lines, walk the hard road. There's a liability because we fail our students into the unknown. We drive them only as far as we can see, and we don't teach that unknown. That is where we have a liability now because our students are only getting half of what we are able to give. The reality is that most teachers don't even know their own potential because the entities and systems restrict by using fear.

So, I really am thankful for GIT. This special program has assisted me in gaining the knowledge to realize that there is more that a classroom teacher can offer and do outside of our school fences. It gave me courage to reach out to our partners in our neighboring colleges, and seek out consortium with other educators outside of our shores. That there is interest in place-based, project-based STEM programs that really encourage Indigenous learning and teaching. It gave me insight into a place where students can share intergenerational conversations, from their bio-region and feel safe being a kanaka, that in this program it was clear that young island women would be given the time to weave and uplift their own identities from an introduction to Hawaiian language and culture. I honor GIT and all of the hard working wahine (women) who have become STEM sisters in this movement. But most importantly, I honor our ancestors.

Aloha, a hui hou, me ke aloha. Keep wearing that lei around your neck.

Thank you, Kumu Kaleo. Mahalo. Mahalo. Aloha, a hui hou.

# # #