Kuʻu ʻĀina

Kulāiwi

By Shavonn Matsuda and Kawena Komeiji

As Kanaka (Native Hawaiians), our pilina (relationship) to this pae ʻāina o Hawaiʻi (Hawaiian Islands) is traced back hundreds, if not thousands, of generations through our genealogies and origin stories.
As literal descendants of the land and sky, we are responsible for caring for this ʻāina in the same way that a person would care for their elder.

Hawaiʻi IS our homeland.

We have nowhere else to go.

Hawaiʻi, a (brief) history:

Contrary to the “savage natives” tropes designed and perpetuated by colonizers, Kanaka Hawaiʻi were (and still are) innovative, able to sustain ourselves on these islands for generations. With the introduction of foreigners to Hawaiʻi, our aliʻi (chiefs) were willing to integrate foreign ideas, tools and inventions that would further Hawaiʻi’s status as an independent nation.

Mōʻī Kamehameha I (1795-1819) incorporated muskets and cannons, bartered from visiting ship captains, into his war tactics. Later, Mōʻī Kamehameha III (1825-1854) secured international recognition of our independence from Great Britain, France, Belgium, Germany, and the United States in 1843-44. He also led the lāhui Hawaiʻi (Hawaiian nation) into becoming one of the most literate nations in the world, surpassing the literacy rates of most of Europe and North America at the time. Then, Mōʻī Kalākaua (1874-1891) installed electricity into ʻIōlani Palace, years before the White House had electricity. Just two years after Mōʻī Kalākaua’s reign, in 1893, the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi was taken by force in a coup that was orchestrated by the descendants of missionaries and foreign businessmen and backed by the U.S. Navy. In 1898, Hawaiʻi was illegally annexed by the United States in a joint resolution, not by treaty as required under international law.

In 2023, Hawaiʻi is still illegally occupied by the U.S. and lorded by a tourism industry that perpetuates “aloha spirit,” where Hawaiians and local settlers are meant to bend to your every desire. In contrast to this violent backdrop, Hawaiʻi is curiously portrayed as a harmonious, laid back melting pot of races. Our language, culture, and history are carefully curated, repackaged by foreigners and settlers alike, then sold off to tourists while most Kanaka families are struggling to survive. During the COVID-19 pandemic, remote workers and wanna-be influencers flocked in droves to our shores to live out their dreams of “paradise,” effectively boxing out local families from the housing market and forcing many Kanaka to relocate to the U.S., where the cost of living is a little more affordable but that we have no pilina to. It should come as a surprise that Native Hawaiians, the stewards of this land, are 265% more likely to become houseless than any other race on the island of Oʻahu(1).

The Problem with Libraries

As the saying goes, "ignorance is bliss," and indeed, the ignorance of the colonization and continued occupation of Hawaiʻi has been a privilege to settlers in Hawaiʻi. The state of libraries and archives in Hawaiʻi is not much different than the fake State of Hawaiʻi: Native Hawaiians are often perceived as an unbelonging “other” and treated as an outlier or inconvenience. Though these repositories hold our ʻike kūpuna, or ancestral knowledge, many Kanaka feel uncomfortable and unsafe in these spaces due to the professions’ supposed neutrality and stubborn attachment to outmoded policies and procedures.

The historical context of research and of the institution of libraries within Hawaiʻi must be acknowledged and addressed for any meaningful movement. Published in 2019, E Naʻauao Pū, E Noiʻi Pū, E Noelo Pū: Research Support for Hawaiian Studies highlights the research experiences of Hawaiian Studies scholars and provides recommendations for systemic change and capacity building for libraries in Hawaiʻi (2).

The first three recommendations in the report are: 

  •  Acknowledge and support the sovereignty of Ke Aupuni Hawaii (Hawaiian Kingdom).

  •  Acknowledge ongoing Hawaiian historical trauma caused by the United States, the State of Hawaiʻi, and the University of Hawaiʻi and the resulting impact this has on the University's and libraries' relationships with Hawaiian communities.

  • Acknowledge the historical role of libraries, archives, and museums as often being driven by Western colonialism and imperialism, both of which resulted in the genocide of Indigenous peoples.

To enact meaningful change for Kanaka, institutions and organizations - like the State of Hawaiʻi, the University of Hawaiʻi, and libraries - need to recognize the independence of the Hawaiian Kingdom and actively work to address the ongoing, generational trauma caused by the U.S occupation.

Native Hawaiians protest in Honolulu, Oʻahu, against the ongoing desecration of land, including the Thirty-Meter Telescope on Mauna Kea, in October 2019.

[Native Hawaiians protest in Honolulu, Oʻahu, against the ongoing desecration of land, including the Thirty-Meter Telescope on Mauna Kea, in October 2019.]

Often a cog in the wheel of western imperialism and colonialism, libraries have served both active and passive roles in the displacement and genocide of Kanaka and other Indigenous peoples. And yet, when presented with these truths, the University of Hawaiʻi and library leadership are reluctant to engage, nonetheless act upon the recommendations put forth to improve libraries. Like the U.S., they are unwilling to acknowledge their institutions' participation in the ongoing occupation. For us, these recommendations are central to any institution seeking to become "Indigenous-serving."

Some reading this will point to initiatives in recent years to attempt to improve libraries. We acknowledge that several institutions have begun open conversations about Hawaiʻi's history and a few of those have entered the work. A lot of the recent progress made in libraries has been the result of 'passion projects' brought forth by Kanaka (with the support of allies) within the information profession to hold space, critically examine the structures in place, and advocate for Kanaka communities within these spaces. Such projects, like archiving the social media of social and environmental justice movements in Hawaiʻi and creating a Hawaiian knowledge organization system, are often considered “special” projects that Kanaka librarians should do on top of their "day jobs" in the library. And yet, the intent, purpose, and content of these projects are repeatedly questioned by non-Hawaiians in libraries and at the University who offer unsolicited feedback and claim the projects are biased or exclusionary.

Hawaiʻi will be free.

One of our principal goals is to center Kanaka - our people and our epistemologies - which ultimately means bringing these "special" projects and community-centered approaches to the core of institutional and LIS practices; it is not an exception to the rule but rather the rule itself. As Native Hawaiian librarians, we actively work WITH and IN our communities, creating a reciprocal relationship that allows us to develop practices and protocols rooted in the land and kuanaʻike Hawaiʻi (Hawaiian perspectives) while uplifting the voices of the lāhui Hawaiʻi. The participation and leadership of Kanaka who choose to engage with libraries is hugely important, lest these institutions perpetuate the gross injustices exemplified in the tourism industry and elsewhere, in attempts to strip our culture and homeland from our people.

[Native Hawaiians protest the Thirty Meter Telescope on Mauna Kea in Kahului, Maui.]

Like our ancestors before us, we ʻonipaʻa (remain firm) as Kanaka librarians actively challenging the existing power and racial structures in Hawaiʻi and libraries. Although we are tired of being “resilient natives”, our aloha for this land and our people motivate us to continue pushing against the systems that were designed to eliminate us with the hope that, one day, Hawaiʻi will be free.

Endnotes

 (1) Partners In Care. 2022 Point in Time Count Comprehensive Report (Honolulu, 2022), https://www.partnersincareoahu.org/pit-reports.

(2) Kawena Komeiji, Keahiahi Long, Shavonn Matsuda, Annemarie Paikai, & Kapena Shim. E Naʻauao Pū, E Noiʻi Pū, E Noelo Pū: Research Support for Hawaiian Studies (Honolulu: 2019), http://hdl.handle.net/10125/44906.

Kawena Komeiji is from Nuʻuanu, Kona, Oʻahu with ancestral roots to the Waialua and Koʻolauloa moku. She currently works at the Hawaiʻi-Pacific Resources Librarian at the University of Hawaiʻi - West Oʻahu. As a forever aloha ʻāina, her research interests include the de-occupation of Hawaiʻi, hoʻihoʻi ea (land back), and the Hawaiian language newspapers.

Shavonn Matsuda is from Hāna, Maui, Hawaiʻi. Shavonn is the Head Librarian at the University of Hawaiʻi Maui College. She earned a PhD in Indigenous Studies from Te Whare Wānanga o Awanuiārangi,, a Master's in Library & Information Science from the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, and concurrent bachelor's degrees in Political Science and Hawaiian Studies. Her research focuses on Indigenous knowledge organization and pathways to improve access to libraries and archives through Kanaka epistemologies.