Enacting Kū‘ē through makawalu discourse: A Kanaka‘ŌiwiCrit study of Native Hawaiian students

2.1Papakū Makawalu

As a theoretical framework guided by cultural wisdom, Kanaka‘ŌiwiCrit is oriented epistemologically around Papakū Makawalu, an Indigenous lens “for understanding, acknowledging, and becoming experts” of the intellectual, physical, and spiritual “systems of the natural world” (Kanahele-Mossman & Karides, 2021, p. 450). In a research context, makawalu refers to a “process of deconstruction and reconstruction to make meaning and deepen understanding” (Keli‘ikipikāneokolohaka, 2020, p. 8). According to Reppun (2017), makawalu can lead scholars to identify four depths of ‘ike – ‘ike kūpuna, ‘ike kumu (foundational knowledge), ‘ike pono‘ī (personal knowledge), and ‘ike lawelawe (performance knowledge) – in their work. When this occurs, acquiring ‘ike moves from an impersonal search for information toward a process of developing a relationship with a repository of intergenerational cultural wisdom. Together, Kanaka‘ŌiwiCrit and Papakū Makawalu dismantle colonial notions of research as individualistic by viewing ‘ike like ‘ōlelo no‘eau (Hawaiian sayings) and mo‘okū‘auhau (genealogies) as multilayered and collective. In the remaining sections, Kanaka ‘Ōiwi epistemology and theory are purposefully interwoven to deepen our understanding of kū‘ē and distinguish this study as anti-colonial research.

3.1Kanaka ‘Ōiwi identity

A Kanaka‘ŌiwiCrit view of contemporary Kanaka ‘Ōiwi identity foregrounds settler colonialism and white supremacy’s ubiquity in modern societies as a reason for its contentious nature within the Lāhui Hawai‘i (Cristobal, 2018). Indeed, while most pre-contact Kānaka Hawai‘i self-determined the definition and boundaries of their Hawaiian identity, present-day Kanaka ‘Ōiwi must navigate colonial ways of self-identifying according to legal, political, and social categories established by nineteenth-century settlers who sought to eliminate their “Indigenous worldviews and sociopolitical systems, and replace them with settler ways” of quantifying “Hawaiianness” (De Lude et al., 2023, p. 3).55 Critical Kanaka ‘Ōiwi scholars have argued that the legal and political consequences of colonization continue to impact contemporary Native Hawaiians by severing them from kinship practices that encourage self-identification as a member of a global Indigenous community (Salis Reyes, 2018; Trask, 1999). Still, Kanaka ‘Ōiwi form cultural and genealogical identities rooted in relationships with ‘āina and people (Paglinawan et al., 2020). Today, Kanaka ‘Ōiwi use a variety of terms to self-identify, including N/native Hawaiian, Kanaka Maoli, Hawaiian American, and Hawaiian National (De Lude et al., 2023).66 I hypothesized that resistant haumāna rely on self-determined definitions over colonial beliefs to express their identity and kū‘ē.

Kanaka‘ŌiwiCrit also contends that identity varies according to critical consciousness, an ability “to perceive social, political, and economic contradictions, and to take action against the oppressive elements of reality” (Freire, 1970, p. 35), and dysconsciousness, “an uncritical habit of mind (including perceptions, attitudes, assumptions, and beliefs) that justifies inequity and exploitation by accepting the existing order of things as given” (King, 2015, p. 113). Ideologically, Kanaka ‘Ōiwi haumāna’s positioning on this spectrum between critical consciousness and dysconsciousness may change throughout their lives (Kawano, 2023b). However, it is this critique of oppression that supports a capacity for ea, aloha ‘āina, and kū‘ē (Wright, 2018). Therefore, this article assumed that students’ kū‘ē in public discourse is indicative of critical consciousness.

3.2Kū‘ē as resistance

While Kanaka ‘Ōiwi resist oppression in private, interpersonal contexts, this article intentionally focused on enactments in public, social settings to pay homage to the 1897 Kū‘ē77 Petitions, which contained the signatures of over 38,000 Kanaka ‘Ōiwi in opposition to Hawai‘i’s annexation to the United States. Until Noenoe Silva’s (2004) archival research revealed the majority of Kanaka ‘Ōiwi in 1897 signed the Kū‘ē Petitions, haumāna were led to believe their kūpuna supported U.S. occupation. Kū‘ē is thus an appropriate term to operationalize resistance in this study because of its affiliation with documented proof of ‘ike kūpuna’s ability to delegitimize colonial narratives. Moreover, kū‘ē’s connection to the overthrow and annexation highlights the political nature of resistance, especially when it is enacted at institutional and systemic dimensions.

Education likely plays a major role in students’ motivation to kū‘ē for the Lāhui Hawai‘i. Goodyear-Ka‘ōpua’s (2013) analysis of activism among Hālau Kū Māna Public Charter School haumāna suggested a potential relationship between cultural ‘ike and sociopolitical kū‘ē. She recalled the use of oli (chants) to kū‘ē for the equitable funding of public CBE schools in the early 2000s. For one haumana, Noelani Duffey-Spikes, enacting kū‘ē aligns with critical consciousness. While reflecting on giving speeches at the state capitol to articulate her political beliefs, she said, “It wasn’t like we were just kids out there saying, ‘Kū‘ē” [but] who don’t even know what they’re fighting for. We knew exactly what we were talking/about, why we’re fighting against or supporting a bill” (Goodyear-Ka‘ōpua, 2013, pp. 224–225).

Given the diversity within contemporary Kanaka ‘Ōiwi communities (Paglinawan et al., 2020), there are numerous ways for ‘ōpio to kū‘ē. Since 2019, more Kanaka ‘Ōiwi students oppose state and military control of ‘āina and wai, reflecting aloha ‘āina and a critical education in the “historical and cultural foundations” of Kanaka ‘Ōiwi ea (Fujikane, 2019, p. 42). To enrich the mo‘okū‘auhau88 of youth resistance with contemporary examples, this study aimed to identify recent enactments of kū‘ē by ‘ōpio.

3.3Public discourse

In pre-contact Hawaiian civilization, Kanaka ‘Ōiwi primarily shared information and knowledge orally. However, soon after foreign contact, Euro-American settlers introduced beliefs about English’s superiority over ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i, the legitimacy of the written word over spoken word, and the supremacy of white discourse styles over those of Indigenous Peoples (Lucas, 2000). Despite assimilationist tactics by Protestant missionaries and U.S. businessmen throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, Kanaka ‘Ōiwi harnessed discourse to kū‘ē colonization. Shortly after a Hawaiian alphabet was created and used to print western bibles in ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i as early as 1826 (Lyon, 2017), “nearly three-fourths of the Native Hawaiian population over the age of sixteen years were literate in their own language” (Lucas, 2000, p. 2). Through their literacy, Kanaka ‘Ōiwi “fought the overthrow and annexation with everything they had, and especially with discourse” (Silva, 2014, p. 304).

In this article, public discourse was operationalized as written and oral conversations and reflections by K-college students in ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i or English that has been made widely available on the Internet. To honor Hawaiian language newspapers as crucial spaces for Kanaka ‘Ōiwi to communicate with one another and mobilize between 1834 and 1948 (Silva, 2004), the written data in this study were student essays published in a Hawaiian-serving newspaper. To recognize the intersections between kū‘ē and civic engagement (Goodyear-Ka‘ōpua, 2013), the oral data came from video recordings of student panels and public hearings. With its focus on public kū‘ē, this article heeds De Lude et al.’s (2023) call to amplify Kanaka ‘Ōiwi voices in public opinion research, which is often “mobilized against Indigenous Peoples” to serve corporate interests (p. 6). In this way, I bolster the capacity for ‘ōpio to shape public discourse and policy debates, while engaging in reciprocal research grounded in pono99 (just) intentions.

3.3.1Makawalu discourse

Makawalu discourse is a communication style central to Kanaka ‘Ōiwi and a Papakū Makawalu philosophy. According to ho‘omanawanui (2019), engaging in makawalu discourse encourages Kanaka ‘Ōiwi to “embrace the depth and breadth” of Hawaiian ‘ike (p. 56). Considering the layered, poetic meanings of ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i words and phrases, makawalu discourse is also a critical thinking strategy to “perceive and articulate the interrelationships and interconnectedness” of diverse perspectives (Kaomea et al., 2019, p. 276). It involves interpreting information, connecting to history or previous stances, and raising similar or alternative views to co-construct wisdom.

To depict this deconstruction and reconstruction of multiple viewpoints, Kanaka ‘Ōiwi scholars have referenced imagery of forming rock walls (Keli‘ikipikāneokolohaka, 2020; Reppun, 2017). Since rocks are considered “steadfast embodiments of the land, as well as witnesses to countless histories occurring around them over centuries,” they represent living, Hawaiian ‘ike (Hermes, 2022, p. 138). In effect, the methodical pooling together of diverse knowledge under makawalu discourse parallels the process of layering different stones to create a uniform structure. For instance, the role of ‘ike kūpuna as a cultural and spiritual kahua (foundation) for makawalu discourse is similar to the function of a foundational base stone. ‘Ike kumu is comparable to wedge stones that prop up larger rocks, and ‘ike pono‘ī resembles top stones, which compress rocks below. ‘Ike lawelawe performs a function similar to that of filler stones, which vary greatly in size and shape to close gaps. A visualization of this metaphor is illustrated in Fig. 1 and explained further in the findings.

Figure 1.

Makawalu discourse rock wall model for enacting kū‘ē.

4.1Data collection

A systematic search process was used to gather secondary student perspectives via material collection. Ka Wai Ola, a monthly newspaper funded by the Office of Hawaiian Affairs1010 since 1980, was selected as the main source for written material because of its wide following across Hawai‘i and its recurring youth columns. Each issue includes a feature story, news briefs, advertisements, community announcements, and a variety of essays and opinion pieces from staff and guest authors, who tend to publish left-leaning or Hawaiian nationalist views. Readers can engage with content online and in print, and authors can write articles in ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i and English. The newspaper’s website was accessed to search for online versions of student essays.

YouTube, a video sharing website and social media platform founded in 2005, was selected to search and watch video recordings of panels and hearings featuring ‘ōpio perspectives. Though the search results on the site are dictated by complex algorithms and filtered according to users’ preferences and online history (Noble, 2018), YouTube is also a “learning community” where different opinions can be publicly shared (Kellner & Kim, 2010, p. 12). Consequently, many Kanaka ‘Ōiwi-serving organizations have created “Channels” that function as archives for each video creator’s content. This study primarily searched for content from Kanaeokana, a Kanaka ‘Ōiwi organization with ties to CBE schools. Channels of local media sources that covered public hearings were also accessed to find student testimonies.

The two websites were searched using the keywords “youth” or “‘ōpio.” On YouTube, these terms were combined with “Native Hawaiian” AND “panel” OR “hearing” OR “meeting” AND specific events that garnered heavy media attention, such as “Maunakea” OR “Lahaina.” To focus on contemporary discourse, results were narrowed according to publication date from the start of global attention to Kū Kia‘i Mauna in June 2019 until present day, February 2024. Materials were narrowed further based on the author or speaker’s identity as Kanaka ‘Ōiwi and a K-college haumana, as well as the content of their essay or testimony. One essay was excluded for its business advertisement content.

This collection method yielded 43 essays and eight videos of youth panels and public testimonies (see Appendix for a full list of materials). Most of the essays were published in Ka Wai Ola’s “He leo hou – A new voice” and “Ka leo o nā ‘ōpio – Voice of the youth” columns, which feature monthly guest contributions. The majority of haumāna who published essays in these columns are current students and graduates of CBE schools. Similarly, the students who participated in youth panels and public testimonies often identified themselves as representatives of their family, home community, and CBE institution. While most student essays were not explicitly connected to politics, the panels and hearings polled public opinion on legislative elections, Kū Kia‘i Mauna, the Kapukākī water crisis, and the Maui fires.

Ninety-one different student perspectives from over 25 public and private schools were represented in the data. Their discourse was transcribed into ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i or English based on the language used by the author or speaker. However, due to my lack of fluency in ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i, English translations were obtained for analysis. Two haumāna published more than one essay during the period reviewed, and five haumāna appeared in more than one video analyzed in this study. Nine haumāna published an essay and participated in a panel or public hearing.

4.2Data analysis

The unit of analysis was resistant discourse, defined as critiques of oppression across interpersonal, institutional, and systemic dimensions. Interpersonal critiques targeted individual beliefs or actions, while institutional critiques challenged majoritarian policies and practices at schools, homes, and the state government. Systemic critiques were explicit statements that named oppression in multiple institutions or throughout history due to settler colonialism, racism, or U.S. occupation. Kanaka ‘Ōiwi history and mo‘olelo were also coded as resistant to colonial narratives of Indigenous Peoples (Cristobal, 2018).

The first cycle of coding yielded 427 instances of resistant discourse and over 500 in vivo codes based on students’ words and phrasing. These codes were then organized into 11 categories using values and metaphor coding. Values coding was selected to highlight what haumāna think and feel is important and what they “personally think/feel to be true” (Saldaña, 2021, p. 168), while metaphor coding was used to examine how haumāna “communicate experiences, meanings, and understandings through comparison and evocative imagery” (Saldaña, 2021, p. 201).

Next, a word count analysis was conducted to determine the frequencies of each category in the data. Using these frequencies and Reppun’s (2017) makawalu depths of ‘ike framing, the 11 categories were organized into three themes, representing one assertion about the content of students’ resistant discourse. Then, hypothesis coding was used in accordance with Kanaka‘ŌiwiCrit to analyze the three themes and “search for rules, causes, and explanations” of student kū‘ē (Saldaña, 2021, p. 219). This additional round of coding resulted in a second assertion about the organization of students’ discourse. The two assertions are described and depicted as a visual representation in the next section.

5.1‘Ike kūpuna: ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i, ‘ōlelo no‘eau, mo‘olelo, aloha ‘āina

‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i, ‘ōlelo no‘eau, mo‘olelo, and aloha ‘āina were highly frequent categories of resistant ‘ike. With 84 instances, ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i was the most frequent

category in the data. Eleven out of 43 essays were written completely in ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i, and 30 haumāna spoke primarily in Hawaiian language during panels and public hearings. For these haumāna, ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i was central to their identity as Kanaka ‘Ōiwi and an essential way to kū‘ē. Isaac Keola Swain (2022) described his pride in ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i because of its resilience despite colonialism, the loss of Native speakers to foreign disease, and the banning of the language’s use in public spaces from 1896 to 1986 (Trask, 1999). Similarly, in support of a bill that would mandate the use of ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i on official state signs and documents, Kealaula Keli‘ikula asserted her right “to learn and read and write in Hawaiian,” given that it is her first language (Kanaeokana, 2021, 1:21:07). This same line of thinking was evident during a state water commission meeting in Maui, when over 20 students from Kula Kaiapuni ‘o Lahaina (Lahaina Hawaiian Immersion School) testified on behalf of their community in ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i, demonstrating their right to use their ancestral tongue in public government spaces (Hawai‘i Commission on Water Resource Management, 2023).

‘Ōlelo no‘eau, mo‘olelo, and aloha ‘āina were also featured prominently in the written and oral data. Students incorporated ‘ōlelo no‘eau 61 times in their discourse. As a final piece of advice to ‘ōpio on being leaders in their communities, Maui Iokepa-Guerrero said, “‘A‘ohe hana nui ke alu ‘ia. No task is too big when done together by all,” relying on an ‘ōlelo no‘eau1111 to express his belief that social change requires collaboration (Kanaeokana, 2020, 1:06:57). As hypothesized under Kanaka‘ŌiwiCrit, mo‘olelo was another common element of resistant discourse, with 69 instances in the data. When advocating for Indigenous cultural rights, haumāna referenced stories of sacred places and personal memories. For instance, Kahauolilani Keli‘ikula recalled a family conversation about “moving forward the normalization of ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i” during an ‘ōpio panel (Kanaeokana, 2021, 1:18:50). Aloha ‘āina was mentioned 49 times, especially when haumāna challenged colonial claims to land by occupying military forces and threats to Indigenous protection over natural resources by the settler state. As an example, Kalei Cirillo-Nahinu’s (2023) essay on aloha ‘āina opposed colonial perspectives of land as a commodity. Instead, she argued that people should view “‘āina like a chief” that deserves respect and love (para. 7).

These four categories symbolized ‘ike kūpuna, ancestral knowledge that haumāna invoked to ground their stances in the Lāhui Hawai‘i’s beliefs of respecting kūpuna1212 (elders) for their wisdom. Furthermore, haumāna frequently cited the phrase, “I ka wā ma mua, ka wā ma hope” [the time before, the time to come], which is commonly interpreted as “the future is in the past.” This demonstrated ‘ike kūpuna’s status as a repository to which students looked to explain historic contexts of present issues and to justify their counterarguments to settler logic.

5.2‘Ike kumu: Mo‘okū‘auhau, kuleana, family-school lessons

Haumāna also shared mo‘okū‘auhau, their kuleana,1313 and family-school lessons to kū‘ē. Mo‘okū‘auhau can be found in the data 39 times, with most students referencing genealogical relationships with ‘āina to explain their right to care for Indigenous plants and animals and sacred sites throughout Hawai‘i. For example, during her testimony on water management rights after the 2023 Maui fires, Kaliko Teruya explained that her family lived in Lahaina for 19 generations to make a case for their right to manage their community’s wai1414 (Hawai‘i Commission on Water Resource Management, 2023). This notion of continuity in aloha ‘āina was also evident in 34 instances of resistant discourse that reflected students’ complex sense of kuleana as lineal descendants of Hawai‘i. In an essay describing her role as a member of the Lāhui Hawai‘i, La‘i Bertelmann (2021) wrote that she believes haumāna “have a kuleana to our ‘āina and our kūpuna, but we also have one to ourselves: to live, make memories and make the best you can with the life you are given” (para. 7).

Lessons on cultural attitudes, beliefs, and values from families and schools were found 32 times in the data. While advocating for more sustainable agricultural practices to mitigate mounting climate change crises in Hawai‘i, Sela Kauvaka (2021) described how working with a mentor she considers “a second father” led her to embrace kalo (taro) as a key to a self-sustaining future (para. 3). She concluded that by being with kalo and family, she learned “to always be kind and humble” (para. 7). CBE schooling experiences similarly impacted Malia Kukahiwa’s (2022) view of patience, perseverance, and trust while learning. Although she feared distance learning due to the Covid-19 pandemic would hinder progress to revitalize ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i through Hawaiian immersion schools, Malia recalled her teachers’ patience with haumāna. She wrote, “Even when things got hard, they persevered and kept going. People thought that school was the only place where we could revive our language. …We knew that language wasn’t a place but a people – it didn’t matter where we were as long as there were people to speak it” (para. 2). To this end, family-school lessons helped haumāna consider how their values relate to those of other Kanaka ‘Ōiwi.

Mo‘okū‘auhau, kuleana, and family-school lessons comprised the second-most frequent group of categories in this study. Altogether, these three categories reflected ‘ike kumu, the foundational knowledge that students learn from educators in their everyday lives. The discourse in this theme included personal views about the significance of Kanaka ‘Ōiwi ‘ike and connections to family histories and genealogies as sources of that wisdom. As Maui asserted while discussing the recognition of ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i in Hawai‘i’s schools as a sign of respect by the settler state government, Kanaka ‘Ōiwi kū‘ē for cultural rights and Native Hawaiian interests because “that’s just Hawaiian style. You gon’ make like that cause your grandmaddah [grandmother] did it, your maddah [mother] did it, and now you gon’ do it” (Kanaeokana, 2020, 39:25). Therefore, mo‘okū‘auhau, kuleana, and family-school lessons conveyed what it means to kū‘ē and how to kū‘ē in the present.

5.3‘Ike pono‘ī: Personal goals, counter narratives, calls to action, compare/contrast statements

In addition to reflecting on current issues, haumāna looked to the future and discussed personal goals, counter narratives, calls to action, and compare/contrast statements in their public discourse. There were 10 instances in which resistant discourse aligned with personal goals. Unlike western norms of setting individualistic goals, these haumāna’s goals sought to benefit their communities. For example, Vaihiti Eckart (2022) expressed her desire to continue learning oli to preserve it for future haumāna. She recognized that reciting oli helped her understand who she is and how she is connected to everything around her, demonstrating Kanaka ‘Ōiwi students’ capacity to connect their sense of purpose to their kū‘ē (para. 4). When haumāna voiced an urgency to enact their visions, calls to action usually followed. These types of statements, which were mentioned 25 times in the data, sought to persuade community members and elected officials to support their cause. In one instance, Mia Wai‘ale‘ale Sarsona (2021) implored adults “to hold space for the voices of the younger generations,” pointing out their role in the success of student kū‘ē (para. 9).

There were 28 times when haumāna shared counter narratives opposing colonial histories of Hawai‘i and deficit views of Kanaka ‘Ōiwi students as lazy and unintelligent. Kalāmanamana Harman’s essay (2024) on being a graduate of a Hawaiian immersion school and an Ivy League college enacted kū‘ē by disproving negative assumptions about Hawaiian immersion students as incapable of mastering English or pursuing higher education. Kalāmanamana’s counter narrative paralleled ‘Aipono Kamoku’s mana‘o (insight) on his experiences with distance learning as a Hawaiian immersion student. He stated, “this distance learning helps us show how smart we are and our ability to be able to focus on our work …to really show what our ability is and how we’re able to learn,” providing a counter narrative to learning loss rhetoric that assumes Kanaka ‘Ōiwi students did not learn during school closures in 2020 (Kanaeokana, 2020, 57:50).

Counter narratives also disrupted anti-Indigenous histories of Hawai‘i that circulate on social media. Madison Velasco’s (2022) essay on the misrepresentation of Kanaka ‘Ōiwi on TikTok opposed the spreading of “false information about Hawai‘i” and the mocking of Indigenous cultures and traditions (para. 3). She presented historical truths about the past, including the illegal overthrow of Queen Lili‘uokalani and the banning of hula in public spaces. In doing so, Madison rejected colonial thinking about Kanaka ‘Ōiwi and urged other haumāna to tell “mo‘olelo in our own way” to “ensure that non-Hawaiians (who know nothing about us) aren’t spreading falsehoods about our heritage” (para. 9). Here, Madison’s kū‘ē revealed the ability for history to empower students to refuse coloniality in the present.

Lastly, haumāna resisted oppressive colonial thinking by comparing and contrasting western and Kanaka ‘Ōiwi cultures. This type of resistant discourse was found 16 times in this study. In an essay on colonialism, Ka‘ula Krug (2022) identified several ways that Kanaka ‘Ōiwi and settlers differ. He argued that Kanaka ‘Ōiwi sought balance in the world, while colonizers like the U.S. Navy enacted “an ungodly culture that is driving the world to global extinction” (para. 1). Similarly, Hema Watson’s opposition to a bill that would allow casinos to be built on Hawaiian lands illuminated differences in monetary values for Kanaka ‘Ōiwi and settlers. He stated, Kanaka ‘Ōiwi “strive for mālama ‘āina [caring for the land], we strive for, you know, love and nurturing rather than purely a market value. …Capitalism kind of shifts people and turns everything into a value” (Kanaeokana, 2021, 41:10). Later in the conversation, Hema advocated for the mandatory use of ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i over English in the state government and supported policies that embrace Indigenous languages in government like those in Aotearoa (New Zealand). These statements make clear these students’ preference for Indigenous knowledge systems in contrast to those of western colonizers.

Personal goals, counter narratives, calls to action, and compare/contrast statements symbolized ‘ike pono‘ī personal knowledge that students articulated to contemplate their role in the Lāhui Hawai‘i. While perspectives within this theme varied due to individual experiences, students commonly grounded their mana‘o1515 in ‘ike from their family, schools, and communities. Though least frequent in this data corpus, these categories of resistant discourse were the most explicit in their critique of institutionalized and systemic forms of oppression. Haumāna who voiced calls to action and circulated counter narratives often named colonialism or racism as root causes of interpersonal and intrapersonal conflicts, thereby advancing social justice aims in their demand for community-wide change.

5.4‘Ike lawelawe: Makawalu discourse

This study’s second major assertion is that students used makawalu discourse to organize their arguments and to discuss ‘ike kūpuna, ‘ike kumu, and ‘ike pono‘ī. Leiana Carvalho’s essay (2021) on Pololū, a sacred valley in the Kohala district of Hawai‘i Island, opened with a personal introduction in ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i and an ‘ōlelo no‘eau describing her relationality to Pololū. Then, she shared a mo‘olelo1616 and a mo‘okū‘auhau1717 about Pololū as the “first home to Wākea [Sky Father] and Papa [Earth Mother],” who are credited with creating Hawai‘i, kalo, and Kanaka ‘Ōiwi (para. 4). Leiana reflected on family lessons next, recalling her grandfather’s memories of being raised in Kohala and spending days in Pololū. The essay ended with a call to action to respect Pololū and to protect it from deforestation for capital gains (para. 9). Thus, by interconnecting multiple stories and perspectives to argue for aloha ‘āina, Leiana deepened her relationship with Pololū.

After nearly 20,000 gallons of jet fuel from the U.S. Navy’s storage facility at Kapukākī leaked into O‘ahu’s freshwater aquifer supply in 2021, haumāna engaged in makawalu discourse during a panel discussion with a local councilmember. They interpreted points from peers, acknowledged alternative views, and brought new ‘ike to the conversation. In this excerpt, Maui built on a previous point by a peer who described the navy as a “bad guest” to Hawai‘i, saying,

Here, Maui offered a Kanaka ‘Ōiwi perspective on wai. He called on others to recognize its importance and resisted the militaristic, settler state’s view of water as a commodity, while expressing his belief in collective kuleana that Kanaka ‘Ōiwi have to protect wai. Shortly after, Hema took up Maui’s stance on wai, explaining,

Hema shared family lessons and named wai as an ancestor of Kanaka ‘Ōiwi to kū‘ē against colonial views of water as non-living. Moreover, he supported Maui’s call to respect wai.

Additionally, haumāna revealed makawalu discourse’s ability to empower others to engage in critical conversations. In 2019, Auli‘i Aikau testified at a public hearing opposing a thirty-meter telescope atop Maunakea, saying that listening to other Kanaka ‘Ōiwi kū‘ē gave her the courage to testify. She shared, “All of you have really inspired me to speak, and I just feel like if I didn’t speak tonight, then I would have this huge regret of not doing it, so I encourage even more of you guys to speak” (Kamāmalu‘ula News, 2019, 0:13). By listening to makawalu discourse on Kū Kia‘i Mauna, Auli‘i connected ‘ike and gave mana‘o on the Lāhui Hawai‘i’s capacity to keep fighting settler colonialism. In this way, makawalu discourse represented ‘ike lawelawe, a deep form of knowledge that Kanaka ‘Ōiwi invoke to demonstrate content mastery and teach others. Therefore, makawalu discourse served as a blueprint for haumāna to present their ideas as well as an educational tool to persuade others to kū‘ē.

6.1Critique and limitations

The author’s inability to communicate fluently in ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i is an important critique because it limited the layered meanings captured in this study. Kanaka‘ŌiwiCrit was applied to analyze discourse that was either originally in English or translated to English. Therefore, it is likely that terms and phrasing in the data may yield different interpretations for ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i speakers. Furthermore, while 91 student perspectives were collected, additional ‘ike could have been discovered by reviewing other Hawaiian newspapers and social media posts, which helped connect Indigenous Peoples around the world during Kū Kia‘i Mauna in 2019 (Kanaeokana, 2020). However, considering this is the first Kanaka‘ŌiwiCrit study on student kū‘ē, future research can investigate if the makawalu discourse rock wall model applies in other digital settings. Lastly, although this study did not collect primary source data, the article affirms Kanaka‘ŌiwiCrit’s ability to uncover humanizing stories from secondary sources. Moreover, through qualitative data analysis, I uplift anti-colonial possibilities of examining publicly available data, which can be accessed by interested readers and used to hold scholars accountable for the weight of their words in ways that analyses of private speech sometimes cannot accomplish without violating participants’ right to confidentiality. As Indigenous students continue to be pushed out of national education discourses for being statistically insignificant in large quantitative studies (Wright & Saelua, 2023), I urge Kanaka ‘Ōiwi scholars to kū‘ē by undertaking anti-colonial research that critically engages with big datasets and invokes cultural ways of knowing and being to ensure our voices are heard and considered.

6.2Recommendations

This study contains critical mana‘o on CBE schools and ‘ōpio participation in civic activities, which community leaders, educators, and policymakers may find valuable for their work. First, the number of fluent ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i students included in this article’s corpus suggests CBE institutions are crucial sites for the transmission of Indigenous knowledge and civic engagement. Although this study did not exclude students based on their schooling background or focus specifically on students’ schooling experiences, teachers and schools clearly influenced students’ identity formation and their decision to kū‘ē outside the classroom. If community leaders or policymakers are genuinely invested in supporting Kanaka ‘Ōiwi interests, more funding and more respect should be given to recognize these institutions for their role in encouraging political engagement among students.

Second, this study verifies that children and youth participate in civic activities, shape public discourse, and respectfully engage with views that oppose their own. Indeed, 20 students who testified at the October 2023 water commission meeting for the Lahaina community were between the ages of 10 to 13. While discussing a possible bill that would lower Hawai‘i’s minimum voting age from 18 to 16, Maui reminded his peers that there are “preschoolers and kindergarteners who have very good thoughts on political aspects” (Kanaeokana, 2021, 20:53). In effect, by illuminating a reality in which Kanaka ‘Ōiwi kūpuna, parents, and children are politically active, these haumāna speak back to colonial literature on public opinion polls and low voter turnout rates claiming Kanaka ‘Ōiwi do not care about Hawai‘i’s future (De Lude et al., 2023). Therefore, educators should introduce critical consciousness to young children to prepare them to kū‘ē in a society where settler colonialism, racism, and occupation are pervasive. It is possible to deconstruct these complex concepts in childhood settings and reconstruct deeper understandings as students mature (Thomas, 2022). Through makawalu discourse and ‘ike kūpuna, an intellectual, physical, and spiritual kahua can be built to last regardless of age.