I stayed up well past midnight last night, caught in endless clickbait of …… Hawai`i real estate porn. It culminated in a minor obsession with a 2-acre farm in Waipahu, with a house, mature fruit trees, off-grid with solar panels, and more. So what if they were asking $900,000? That’s a bargain on the island, and isn’t this exactly what I had been wishing for?
I forced myself to close the screen and go to bed. All night long I dreamt of the farm, and my dream journey took me all the way from conversation with the owners, to a path to cooperatively finance the purchase, and plans to build a retreat center. The dream brought me full circle: a retreat center for whom? Tourists??!? When so many Indigenous Hawai`ians will never be able to own the land they came from?
When I awoke to the light of day, everything became crystal clear: NO, I was not going to buy the farm, or buy any land. Even if I did have a million dollars.
The morning clarity snapped me back to my values and ethics through the concept of `āina: the land. `Āina is not real estate. It is the living, pulsing land itself, which is the basis of all life. `Āina is land as being.
Even though I have childhood roots in Hawai’i, I am not Native. My family, who came as settlers, albeit in the aftermath of war on the Korean peninsula, gave up any legal ties they had to the land decades ago. I come with no claim to the land.
The best I can do is return to my childhood home in the spirit of aloha `āina: in loving and humble service–kuleana–to the land and all its beings. My grandchildren are an embodiment of `āina, and will largely be my focus on the island. The spirit of aloha is created through relationships.
When I moved to Detroit in 2013, I made a commitment to come in the spirit of solidarity, and to be part of the fabric of community, already rooted here for centuries. I vowed not to come as a colonizer, to grab land, impose myself, nor exploit the community. I have done my best to be a student, to be of use, share my resources, and live my most authentic life. The generosity, which is the spirit of Detroit, has allowed me to do the work I love–teaching, caregiving, growing food, cooking, making, studying, building community–while requiring very little money. Even though I have lived below the poverty line, my life has overflowed with abundance. This has been tremendously healing for me.
I hope to bring that spirit to Hawai`i. I have so much to learn and unlearn, and remember. As I study the maps, cellular memories are coming back to me: Amana Towers–the high rise we lived in when we first arrived, and the pool across the street where I fell in; the parking lot of Mānoa Elementary where we spent recess; the sloping back yard of our house and the plumeria, gardenia, and so many kinds of ferns; the fishing spot where my brother used to go.
I need to immerse myself back into the land, back into the culture, reconnect with ohana (family), and build relations with my new ohana. I need to literally have my feet back on the land, feel the breeze, smell the plant life, immerse myself in the waters, and live among the people. This is how I can practice right relationship with the land. Will I eventually own property there? I don’t know. I must reknit the fabric of relationship to the people and the land, before I attempt to claim property of my own.
Anyway it’s not like I have deep pockets to draw from. When I made the decision in 2010 to take the path of a renunciate, I made the vow that I would live and die in the hands of community. If I had something to offer that was needed, I trusted that community would support me. When I eventually arrive at a day when that support vanishes, it’s a signal that my work is complete. Perhaps there will be opportunity for community-based cooperative ownership of property in the spirit of aloha `āina one day. As the African proverb says, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” I’ve already wasted much of my life rushing and going fast. It’s now time to slow down, and go together.
I also urge visitors to the islands to recognize and practice aloha `āina. Hawai`i is not your playground. Exactly the way some wealthy suburbanites come into Detroit for a ballgame or a concert or a wedding, without any connection or sense of responsibility to the people or neighborhoods, I feel strongly that we should not travel anywhere just for recreation, in a world so lopsided with disparities through the ravages of capitalism, colonization, and cultural appropriation. What are some ways to practice right relationship and pay reparations? Here are some thoughts.
The land has pulled me back down to earth. The avarice has settled. Capitalism says, hurry, the competition is fierce, buy it while you can! I will take my time. I will learn the land. I will step tenderly, carefully, intentionally–in service, healing, and love.
