A few days ago I was re-reading some reflections I had put to print about our ‘ohana and how life was sixty-five years ago (to the best of my faltering memory). In doing so, I was struck by the natural tendency to view family and cultural history like a scientist peering through a microscope at bacteria. It can be most interesting, but unless we commit to building bridges and crosswalks to our past and our culture, it remains academic and detached from the struggles of our contemporary lives. For example, how do the many stories of my Tūtū Wahine’s healing of neighbors and strangers connect to my relationship with friends and the not-so-friendly in my life? Many hours were spent during my childhood listening to the kūpuna (elders) speaking of Tūtū Julia’s aloha and concern for those in need and how she was amazingly gifted with the talents of a kahuna la‘au lapa‘au (traditional healer). What instruments of positive change are embedded in those stories that have application to my life and the lives of my family members? If I continue to keep the stories as tales of the past, I have missed treasures that can enrich and transform me today.

Just reflecting on my Tūtū Wahine’s ever-ready response to help those in need can provide some powerful principles I need to strengthen in my life. One, the principle that teaches us that we’re all connected, we’re all sharing common space and resources, and as such need to be concerned about the welfare of those around us.  As island people, the connections between us are even more powerful and our concern for the welfare and success of others should be important factors in our behavior.  I remember that in the micro-cultures of neighborhoods I grew up in, there existed a substantive commitment of the population to the welfare and needs of those on the block.  Old clothes were handed down, dinners were shared, and children enjoyed the impact of having many adults looking out for their welfare.  I have often thought that President Obama’s island upbringing helped mold his tendency to seek common ground between people and his preference for accommodation and the middle ground in political disputes.  Simple crosswalk: We’re all connected and we all need to recognize the needs and concerns of those around us.

Another lesson imbedded in Tūtū’s openness to the needs of others is a realization that our talents, be they amazing or just merely ordinary, are gifts to be shared with others.  Though most of us don’t have the unique ability to diagnose and treat the physical and spiritual ailments of others that my grandmother had, we all have the ability to say a word of encouragement or provide shoulders to cry on for those around us.  Simple crosswalk: Use the talents we have to help others engage in the struggles of life.

Finally, as I reflected on my Tūtū’s aloha for others, my eyes moved to a copy of a document I have hanging on a wall in our living room.  It is a copy of a page of signatures of women from Lāhainā, from a petition signed by over twenty-one thousand Hawaiian men and women in September of 1897 (this is out of a total population of Native Hawaiians of 40,000).  Hui Aloha ‘Āina (one for men and another for women) and Hui Kālai‘āina were formed to protest and oppose the annexation of Hawai‘i by the United States as was being proposed by then President William McKinley and Hawai‘i’s Sanford Dole.  On the left column of this powerful document were the signatures of my great grandmother, Namo‘olau, my great aunt Agnes, and my grandmother, Julia Maile Ayers.  I was fortunate enough to obtain from the U.S. Archives six “original” copies of this page from the petition and gifted each of my children with a framed copy.  What’s the crosswalk?  Simply the principle that as Tūtū courageously decided to stand up for her beliefs, we also have the responsibility to do the same in the lives Ke Akua has blessed us with.

When you probe a bit more, you have the opportunity to see the wisdom and foresight of our kūpuna.  Reference the article below by Noenoe Silva on the 1897 petition movement.  We need to keep the crosswalks to our ancestors open and used frequently. 

“On September 6, 1897, the Hui Aloha ʻĀina gathered at Palace Square, where President James Kaulia gave a rousing speech, saying that agreeing to annexation was like agreeing to be buried alive.  He predicted that annexation would open the door for many foreigners to come here, and to take jobs and resources away from the Native people. He asked, ‘Then where will we live?’ The crowd answered, ‘In the mountains,’ which figuratively means, ‘we shall be homeless.’”

Take a moment to reflect upon your past and your kūpuna.  I am certain you will be blessed with gems of insight for your walk in our contemporary (and often confusing) world. Me ke aloha.

Link to article by Noenoe Silva on the 1897 petition movement.