These experiences in Waiheʻe only inspire me further to ensure these same type of experiences are given to our haumāna. Learning our history while in these special places are important to the growth of our ʻōiwi leaders.

During a short kūkākūkā session at the end of our huakaʻi, I talked a little bit about the term aloha ʻāina. Aloha ʻāina is another one of those pretty-sounding words that I feel gets thrown around too carelessly nowadays. Our short discussion reinforced what I share with my haumāna in Papa Alakaʻi, which is that aloha ʻāina and mālama ʻāina are not the same. I can without a doubt say that everyone who engaged in our huakaʻi on Friday participated in mālama ʻāina, but only some had the opportunity to feel real aloha ʻāina. For many of us, Friday was the first time we may have visited a particular place. I believe and ʻāina and people are similar and we know that true aloha is difficult to foster within the first few hours of meeting someone because we are still really just getting to know them.— this goes for the same with ʻāina. Similarly, with both people and ʻāina, we need to continuously spend time with each and see them in different lights to truly build pilina and aloha. Some members of our hui had visited Kapoho before, and because of it, they had a much deeper appreciation and sense of awe for the efforts of HILT and volunteers because they knew how far Kapoho had come in recent years. Although I know we and our school should be more engaged in community outreach, I cannot help but want to foster a deeper aloha for all of us with our own ʻāina here at ʻAʻapueo. What kinds of transformations can we all collectively contribute towards our own ʻāina and kula so that we can all have the opportunity to foster aloha ʻāina, not just mālama ʻāina??

I enjoyed coming together in oli and was given the opportunity to sound the Pu. It took me until the third time to get the Pu to sound. But, I did not give up or get embarrassed. I persevered. My Mayan and Nahua ancestors also use the Pu and I have always wanted to sound one.

I enjoyed meeting and learning from 3 generations of the "Ohana Ishikawa. Each offered so much to reflect on. The power and importance of our ancestral knowledge, stories, and persevering through a task and problem. Figure it out! if it doesnʻt work, try something else. It really reflected building Pilina and being Naʻauao. Kamaʻāina was pervasive throughout and I made so many connections from my learning at Paeloko to my Native American culture and traditions that I felt like I was at home taking part. I really enjoyed making cordage as I do that for my Pueblo communities for ceremonial objects. We use different cacti, so it was inspiring to learn another way with coconut husk. We tie the cordage similarly, as well. I also loved learning about the Kapa designs and the materials used were very creative. Some of the designs are similar or match Pueblo designs.

This Huaka'i inspired me to find ways to incorporate this model of learning into the classroom.

I was excited to learn about the environmental significance of agro-forestry, while sharing our vision for the future of food sustainability in Hawaiʻi.

At Polipoli, we saw remnants of the sugar cane era. That era left behind scars on the land, but within that history there is opportunity to reclaim our relationship with the ʻāina. We also uncovered and cleaned a portion of an old rock wall. This wall that marked the boundary between sugar cane fields and Hawaiian lands where our ancestors lived, was a symbol of resilience. The land once used for large-scale industrial agriculture can now be restored to cultivate food for our people, and reduce our need for imported goods.

I enjoyed learning how to plant mamaki seeds in potted soil mixed with peat moss.

But the most significant part of the field trip was planting baby ʻulu trees that will be distributed to farmers in Lahaina. To know that these trees, once grown, will help Lahaina. It felt good to know that the work we did that day would contribute to the future of our community in need.

Restoration is ongoing. We all have a role to play in it. We are planting the seeds for a more sustainable Hawaiʻi for future generations.

My greatest takeaway from Paeloko was experiencing how a familiar mo'olelo such as Maui and the sun could be the basis for an entire day filled lesson. All the lessons/activities presented to us, were tied back to the initial story shared at the beginning of the day. It was helpful to experience an entire Hawaiian culture based lesson from the perspective of a student. This experience can help me in the future, since it gave me an idea of how I can potentially plan a lesson based off of a familiar mo'olelo.

I have confirmed that my strengths do not lie in working on a farm in the sun, with soil, and exposed to centipedes. However, if not for this huaka‘i, I would not have had this experience with my colleagues. I gained a deeper appreciation for people who can aloha ‘āina in this form. Our hosts at Polipoli Farms shared their passion, purpose, and mission through their work.

During our time on the farm, I looked for ways I could connect to task for the day. I found relevant connections through stories shared, plants we found, and the reflections of others. In the same way I tried to find something I could connect to in this unfamiliar environment, I can imagine my haumāna trying to do the same as they learn abstract concepts in math. This was a great reminder for me to make the math accessible by applying math content to issues, topics, and experiences that my students can relate to.

While I don’t think I contributed as much to the physical work as my team members did on the farm, I contributed in ways that felt right for me. My farming ancestors in the Philippines would be so proud.

What an incredible blessing it was to visit Paeloko Learning Center! It exceeded all my expectations in every way. My greatest takeaway from spending the day there is a deeper appreciation for the profound connection between ʻāina and spirit.  I am deeply grateful for the hands-on experience of mālama ʻāina, which reaffirmed the vital importance of passing on knowledge of cultural and environmental stewardship. The Ishikawa ʻohana were exemplary representatives of Maui, embodying the aloha spirit this magical island is known for. I especially appreciated the moment they asked us to observe silence for two minutes and simply be present. It was a powerful reminder of the scripture, “Be still and know I am God.”  This experience enhanced my understanding that ʻāina-based education is not just about outdoor learning—it’s about fostering a deeper relationship with the land. It reminded me how important it is to take teaching beyond the classroom walls. Maui is a unique and sacred place, offering endless knowledge for those willing to get their hands dirty, step into the mud and streams, and open their hearts and minds to learning.  Using tools from the ʻāina (a rock) to open niu and filter the water and meat was an entirely new experience for me. It was a beautiful example of acquiring knowledge outside the confines of traditional schooling. I am incredibly thankful for this opportunity and feel inspired to incorporate more ʻāina-based lessons for my haumāna. These lessons will encourage them to deepen their connection to the ʻāina and cherish the love for the land passed down by their ancestors.  The hands-on learning of the art of “stamping” and creating rope reminded me that education takes many forms beyond books and screens. Mahalo nui for this amazing opportunity—I can’t wait for the next one!

Share your greatest takeaway or gratitude from Friday's 'āina-based in-service.

The first thing I would like to say about our huakaʻi is mahalo nui loa to the many hands that put the day together. It was such a refreshing and grounding experience. I am truly grateful for the day we were given to not only build pilina with one another, but experience hawaiʻian traditions, culture, and farming in such an authentic and humbling way. Our experience of cracking open, husking, draining, and carving out the flesh of the coconut was such a beautiful reminder that our home provides truly all we will ever need if we only have the tools to see it. Taking the niu through the whole process, even down to the cordage procedure was something I will take with me for life. The reminder that we have what we need, what we have we need to preserve, and the creativity of uses for our surroundings is mind-opening. Once again, mahalo for such a lovely inservice day. I hope to see many more like this. 

Kumu become haumāna

Knowledge, knots, niu

At first arrival, I got emotional, imagining that the loʻi my great grandfather cultivated looked just like this. The lau of the kalo gently waved hello as we entered our welcoming work space for the day. We learned that the two loʻi before us were the only two working loʻi in the entire moku of Wailuku today.

After orienting ourselves to the ʻāina called Mahukaʻawenui, the twelve of us wahine, with direction from landowner Lani Eckart, got to work. Our task was to help her open a long awaited third loʻi, and open it we did! Most of the morning was spent shoveling lepo to build kuāuna or banks which would surround the loʻi. We later dug the ʻauwai to connect the new loʻi to the existing ones. Later, we joined in protocol that welcomed all of the ancient ancestors back to the ʻāina. As our new loʻi was being filled, we made pathways for the wai and finally, shoveled piles and piles of mud to level it out. It was a momentous task made easy as we wahine tackled it together. 

When we learned that the kalo grown here goes to the POI program at five Hawaiian preschools (including the one my moʻopuna attends), our hearts were filled knowing that we were feeding our future!

And lastly, as if all of that was not fulfilling enough, as the water was just entering the loʻi and we were still digging, Kumu Henohea stood there holding something up, mouth agape, speechless. I looked over and thought maybe it was an Eisenhower silver dollar but kumu wasn’t moving…at all. I asked, “He Kālakaua?,” meaning, “A Kalākaua (coin)?” and she excitedly blurted out, ʻAE!!!” It was a Kalākaua half dollar from 1883! 

He waiwai ko ka loʻi. The loʻi has its riches and also its value. 

That day we touched the past, the present and the future!

P.S. The day after our huakaʻi (Nov. 16th) was King Kālākaua’s birthday.