hawaiian values-based lessons

Imagine you are preparing to sail thousands of miles away. What would you take with you? What skills and resources will you need to complete your journey successfully? How are you preparing? 

As you launch out and begin your journey into the open ocean, the reality sets in that everything you and your crew need to sustain yourself is on board. You are surrounded by hundreds of miles of ocean in all directions.

In Hawaiian, the name for the area on the waʻa (voyaging canoe) where people typically stand is sometimes known as the honua. Honua also means land or earth, which gives us incredible insight into the Hawaiian way of thinking about voyaging as well as island life. The navigators sailing between Hawaiʻi and Tahiti stand on the same honua as their ʻohana whose feet are planted in the loʻi of Kailua. Both practice incredible skill, both have a vision for what they cannot yet physically see, and both are incredibly aware of their reliance on ʻāina and on that outside of themselves.

This ʻōlelo noʻeau reminds us of our dependence on the finite resources available on an island as well as our dependence on one another. When we are voyaging long distances on a waʻa, there is a heightened awareness of the amount and quality of the resources on board, and everyone has the kuleana to steward them well. A failure to do so can be dangerous and even fatal. 

In addition, we are acutely aware of who is on our waʻa with us and where we are going. When encountering situations that can change in an instant and that will have serious consequences, it is important to know who we are traveling with, what they bring to the table, and how our skills and strengths complement one another, in spite of our shortcomings. We need to consistently bring our best selves forward and work to maintain clear lines of communication.

While the conveniences of life today may paint a very different picture, life on an island, and perhaps on the earth, is not all that different from that on a waʻa. Our present climate crisis and concerns over water quality and access to healthy food remind us of our urgent need to step into our kuleana as kānaka who truly mālama (care for) ʻāina. This ʻōlelo noʻeau helps us to remember that where we stand on the honua today is not all that different from standing on the honua of the waʻa in the middle of the ocean. Our kuleana does not change. Perhaps by remembering this, we will be able to work together as a community to steer our waʻa in a direction that brings life and abundance for generations to come.

INQUIRY QUESTIONS

• What does the ʻōlelo noʻeau “He waʻa he moku, he moku he waʻa” mean to you? How is a canoe like an island and an island like a canoe? How could we apply this concept to life today?

• What does your everyday canoe look like? Who is the captain? Where are you going? What is your role on the waʻa? What are the skills and strengths you bring to the table? 

• Who are you traveling with? What are their skills and strengths? What are areas that are challenging and how do you work together to address them? 

• Do you like where you are going? How could you sail your canoe in a better direction? What could be your role shifting directions?

Na ke kanaka mahiʻai ka imu ō nui, the well filled imu belongs to the one who tills the soil, asks us to consider what does it mean to be wealthy? How do we quantify wealth? One might argue that the way a society quantifies wealth speaks to what it truly values. In Hawaiian, the word for wealth and riches is waiwai. Here we see the word wai (freshwater) repeated twice, emphasizing its importance. Water brings life to both land and people. This partnership allows land to be cultivated, in turn producing food that nourishes body, mind, and spirit. 

This process requires time, commitment, vision, and a lot of hard work. It takes around a year for kalo (taro) to grow to maturity. Within that time, you may need to cultivate and fertilize the soil, build up the kuāuna (banks), pull weeds, cut grass, rebuild mounds, clear out and maintain the ʻauwai (irrigated ditches/waterways), pull some more weeds, and then, after months of tending, you are ready to huki ʻai (pull the kalo). 

In Hawaiʻi, as in many cultures around the world, food is enjoyed communally and is often a way we express our aloha for one another. Being able to not only sustain yourself but also present your loved ones with ʻai (food, taro) that you poured your own hard work and dedication into growing is seen as a mark of wealth.

This ʻōlelo noʻeau reminds us that celebrating abundance comes as a result of hard work.

It might take months, or perhaps years, of hana (work) to grow enough food to fill an imu (underground oven). However, that commitment to everyday tasks means that in the end, one is able to share and enjoy what was produced through seasons of labor. This is waiwai.

As we savor the things we are enjoying in this season, let us also reflect on and appreciate the times of challenge and perseverance it took us to get here. 

By that same token, let us also remember that if we are ʻono (craving) for poi today, we should have been thinking about it a year ago. What do we want to be able to enjoy in the future and are there ways we need to begin preparing today? 

INQUIRY QUESTIONS

• Why is hard work important? 

• What is a goal you are currently working toward? Why? 

• What will it take to get there? What are the challenges you may face? How might you overcome them? 

• Why is it worth it? What will you have accomplished and be able to enjoy once you achieve your goal?