Kumu Anita Erikson, Ph.D
I have just completed my fourth year teaching music at Kamehameha Schools Hawaiʻi. The first two were under the shadow of the COVID-19 pandemic, the restrictions of which are thankfully further and further in the past every day. I came to Kamehameha Schools Hawaiʻi (KSH) from an international school on the island of Papua, in the province of Indonesia. My educational background and my teaching experience are heavily weighted in the realms of music and international education. I had no experience with Hawaiian culture.
About two years ago, I wrote an autoethnography titled, “What I Didn’t Know: A Continuing Journey” (Erikson, 2022). In that piece, I discussed events that had taken place throughout my career that caused me to become very aware of potential cultural missteps. In those situations, I learned that open communication and making connections with local people were key to approaching students whose backgrounds were different from my own. In the two years since that writing, I have found colleagues and external resources that have helped me to understand some of the challenges that the kūpuna of my Hawaiian students faced, and the lasting impact of those challenges on my haumāna. These connections have also helped me to gain knowledge about culture and language. The purpose of this essay is to reflect on the connections and changes that have helped me in my journey to become a strong Kumu of ʻŌiwi haumāna.
Looking back, I can see my growth to this point as having occurred on several levels concurrently. Beginning with minimal knowledge of Hawaiian language, history, and cultural practices, my understandings became increasingly broad until they began to fit with each other and with my existing knowledge and pedagogical practices. Those overlapping points are significant and identifiable because that is where I became able to design lessons that effectively incorporate ʻŌiwi values and knowledge.
Aloha
When I was hired, my language skills were limited to a semi-confident “Aloha” as a greeting and “mahalo” for “thank you.” In the back of my head was the question, “Do people really say that in normal speech or is it a tourist thing?” So I listened, and found that yes, people do use these words as a matter of course. But I also heard the phrases “show aloha” and “act with aloha.” So is it an adjective? A verb? How else is it used? If I am to “show aloha” to people, does that mean I need to greet them? These words, as simple as they are, felt foreign in my mouth, and it took practice to use them confidently.
That was the beginning. Very quickly, I realized there were many words I needed to understand more deeply than just at a passing level. “Kuleana,” “mālama,” “kula,” “kūlia,” “hoakumu,” “haʻawina,” just to name a few. Duolingo introduced some of them to me, but actually using them was awkward. I needed help.
Kōkua
My immediate source for that help were my fellow Kumu. I asked questions about words, phrases, history, traditions—anything new to me that came up. This was basic and very surface knowledge; just enough to meet the immediate need. I knew from my experience as an international teacher that all of those little bits of data would eventually become a base for deeper understandings.
Through conversations with Malia Andrus, our Art Kumu, I became aware of the connection many Hawaiian people feel to place and to the ʻāina. At that time, we were teaching online. Sometimes I sat in on ʻŌlelo classes with Kumu Silva and learned about the concept of “lawena.” I also noticed that even when she was speaking English to the keiki, she used a lot of ʻŌlelo words. At first I wondered if this was because it was a language classroom, but after observing other Kumu, I realized the use of ʻŌlelo words and phrases was consistent throughout the school. I also began to understand the prominent place that moʻolelo and moʻokūʻauhau hold in ‘Ōiwi education.
Because of COVID-19 restrictions, the only language classes were online. I found a site called ʻŌlelo Online and registered for a class that teaches Hawaiian language through music (Beamer-Trapp, 2024). Learning this way was a big step forward for me in beginning to understand some ways in which music fit into the culture, as well as Hawaiian vocabulary and linguistics. The use of kaona, or double meanings, the structure of songs, as well as some of the history behind songs were all taught in this class. Later, I enrolled in language classes at Hawaiʻi Community College.
The study of language and moʻolelo gave me some insight into the culture. Next, I needed to incorporate this new context into my teaching. I needed to change things up.
Making It Real
It wasn’t until my third year that the practice of wā piko on a regular basis was reinstituted. I soon came to understand the cycle. On Mondays, we met as a whole school and the administration were the alakaʻi, along with a single student. The rest of the week, the group was divided into two groups: papa mālaaʻo, ‘ekahi, and ‘elua met together in one group, and papa ‘ekolu, ‘ehā, and ‘elima met together in another group. There was a keiki alakaʻi and a Kumu alakaʻi in each group. Our two ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi Kumu facilitated, led the music, and made sure all went well. Each month we focused on a different Hawaiian value, e.g. kuleana, aloha, and hoʻomau.
My initial thought was that this was a nice way to start the day, getting everyone together with a couple of songs and good thoughts. As a Music Kumu, I loved that haumāna began the day chanting and singing. Haumāna gained practice in public speaking, both in English and in ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi. Some days, when I felt really pressed for time, I wondered about the value of those twenty minutes every morning. The oli and mele took time for me to learn. It took a few months for me to realize the value of wā piko, not only as part of strengthening Hawaiian culture for our haumāna, but also as a powerful part of my own learning. Listening to the sharing of thoughts from haumāna and from Kumu was powerful, and I could see the concepts and values that were being taught through other Kumu sharing. I also learned more about my fellow Kumu. I began to look at the values through different lenses. When it came time for me to be a Kumu alakaʻi, I worried that I did not have anything relevant to share. I’m not Hawaiian, and I didn’t have any profound understandings that I could relate to a Hawaiian context.
An aside: When I wrote the previous article in 2022, I came across a reference (Sing, 1999). The specific quote that fixed itself in my head was “I can be a Hawaiian looking at law and allow that to educate me further. We are not doing Hawaiian things. We are Hawaiians doing things.” About that same time, our Poʻo Kumu, Kaʻulu Gapero commented, “The [old] Hawaiians didn’t worry about having to have something specific, they used what they had. If they had shells, they used shells. If they had dice, they used dice” (paraphrased). This was in the context of discussing math needs, but my thought was that it applied in many situations (and not just to kanaka Hawaiʻi!)
Back to my conundrum regarding my experience and what I could offer our haumāna for wā piko. Other Kumu had used stories from their lives to illustrate a particular Hawaiian value. I decided to use what I had, and not stress about what I didn’t have. I ended up telling a story about my son that illustrated the power of setting realistic goals and keeping them in mind while moving through the highs and lows of life. Later in class, some haumāna asked me questions about my story, so I felt like it had connected with them. I realized then that I needed to change the way I was looking at my situation. Instead of having to reach haumāna from a Hawaiian perspective (which I didn’t have) or moʻolelo (which I had little experience with), I found a life experience of my own that I felt was relevant to our haumāna and realized that it naturally fit in with the Hawaiian concept of hoʻomau. That was also the point when I connected the idea of moʻolelo to events in the human experience, not just to uniquely Hawaiian legends.
Getting Involved
The opportunity to work on a variety of Alaukawai projects supported my learning in a variety of ways. Through these projects, I had conversations with Kumu in other disciplines that gave me insight into Hawaiian issues. I was challenged to learn about and think deeply about marginalization and its effects, to clearly articulate my pedagogical beliefs and practices, and to learn the history of Hawaiʻi and its relevance to the present and the future. Being involved with Alaukawai required that I take new and somewhat difficult vocabulary and become familiar enough with it that I could use it in daily conversation.
I was also a part of ʻAha ʻŌiwi, the Kula Haʻahaʻa task force for school redesign. There were multiple opportunities to learn from school leaders and fellow Kumu about the collective vision for our keiki. The work of Alaukawai and ʻAha ʻŌiwi was not theoretical or just for philosophical purposes, but directly impacted decisions about how the school would move forward. I came to understand the “why” behind ʻŌiwi Edge Learning and Teaching. Being a part of these groups helped me to build a foundational understanding of ʻŌiwi Edge education that was immediately applicable in my classroom.
My understanding had grown, but I still needed to make the changes necessary in my practice that would bring ʻŌiwi knowledge and haumāna agency to the forefront.
Tying It Together
I wanted students to be more involved in the creation and production of their concerts. I had done this successfully in other places, but here, I believed each production should be relevant to haumāna growth as kanaka ʻŌiwi, which added another layer of complexity. This required a conceptual shift for me in that instead of focusing on music and performance skills as the main focuses of learning, ʻŌiwi growth must also be a primary goal of the performance.
This past year, Kula Haʻahaʻa added an ʻŌiwi Mobilizer to the staff, Ryan McCormack. He was uniquely positioned to support me because he had an extensive understanding of Hawaiian culture and education as well as being very knowledgeable about the music and dance of Hawaiʻi. As soon as he was introduced to us, I met with him to discuss my ideas for the year, as well as possible concert themes. I had the big ideas, but needed support to make them viable and relevant for our haumāna. Kumu Ryan saw value in the direction I wanted to go, and worked with me to find songs and moʻolelo that would help haumāna connect their learning in music to understanding about their culture. He helped me to take my big ideas and refine them in an ʻŌiwi context.
An example of our collaboration was our Spring Concert. The overall concept was to be ʻŌiwi Voyaging. This was inspired by the addition of a waʻa play structure to our lower elementary playground and the current voyage of Hōkūleʻa. Kumu Ryan and Kumu Herb Mahelona, our high school choir director, both offered suggestions about music that would fit into this idea, in addition to those that I found. In all, at least 16 songs are needed for a concert. We had an initial list of 22 songs. Many were in ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi. Because of this, Poʻo Kumu Gapero and Hope Poʻo Kumu Waianuhea Paleka joined Ryan and myself in choosing songs for each group. When that was complete, my challenge was to learn the songs quickly so I could teach them. Kumu Ryan supported me not only by translating, but also by adding backstory and historical references. He came to each grade level and told the moʻolelo of the beginning of Hōkūleʻa and how it tied into the Hawaiian Renaissance.
Papa ʻelima haumāna chose songs from the concert list to learn about. They did research into the history and meaning of these pieces. This information was then pulled together into a narrative that was presented by students during the concert. Students had opportunities to participate in the concert in a variety of ways. Everyone sang, but some also played instruments, some narrated, and some chanted. In papa ʻehā and ʻelima, students created harmonies. In papa ʻekolu, students created movement and taught their hoa haumāna. These were elements of the concert that were chosen by students and supported by Kumu.
Our voyaging story was not just about Hōkūleʻa. We were able to bring in other historical references through the music we chose. We connected the information to ʻŌiwi values, and to what haumāna were learning elsewhere. Because of Kumu Ryan’s support, we were able to connect the learning of musical skills with examples that were relevant to ʻŌiwi Edge education.
The final project of the year for papa ʻehā and ʻelima was self-directed. Haumāna chose an element of music that they wished to learn more about. They set an expectation for what their project would look like when they were finished. They were allowed to choose anything (school appropriate) as long as it increased their musical knowledge or skills. I conferenced with each haumāna periodically to support their progress. Some chose to learn a new ʻukulele technique such as picking and apply it to a song. Some wrote and performed a new song. Still others began learning a new instrument or studied a musical style with which they were unfamiliar. The successes and challenges the haumāna experienced while working on this project helped me to better understand where their knowledge, abilities and interests as individuals lay. Their ability to make their own choices about their learning caused them to be excited and engaged in their projects.
The two spring projects, the Spring Concert and their self-directed project, strongly supported both student agency and ʻŌiwi learning, but on different levels. The concert was a traditional, large-group event, but allowed for parts of it to be haumāna-led. The final project was individual, and haumāna made the decisions regarding what they would study, how they would present it, and what it should look like.
Hoʻomau
Looking back, at the beginning of my time here, I started from a very neutral zone, a level playing field, similar to when I started at other schools. I knew I would need to learn about the school culture. During the pandemic, we were all figuring out how to “do” school. But as time went by, as we all began to recover from the pandemic, as the school returned to its normal way of being, I felt further and further disconnected. This was a part of the push and pull of learning. Everything I learned about Kamehameha Schools gave me more knowledge, but it also emphasized for me how much I did not understand.
When haumāna made connections between what we were doing/learning in Music and moʻolelo with what they were doing in another class, I knew I was moving in the right direction. As time passed, I became more confident in my understanding of ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi. After two years as a part of wā piko, I can confidently sing most of the common mele and chants, and I understand the values through different lenses. As I see learning and connection in haumāna, my confidence as a Kumu of kanaka ʻŌiwi has shifted positively. I know that my ability to draw a line between the learning and teaching of Music to ʻŌiwi culture and values is growing stronger. Our haumāna are learning to see themselves as creators and as moderators of their own learning. They are gaining knowledge and skills as musical beings, in the contexts of both ʻae kai and Kahiki. As we continue to grow together, we know that there is mana in change.
Epilogue – Reflections from the Field
By Kumu Ryan McCormack
 Building ConnectionsKumu Anita’s deliberate choices in adjusting the themes for the winter and spring concerts allowed both haumāna and Kumu to deepen their understanding of Hawaiian music and the moʻolelo behind many mele. By focusing on mele Hawaiʻi, rather than simply translating English songs into Hawaiian, she created opportunities for more authentic connections to the Hawaiian musical tradition. For instance, the spring concert’s voyaging theme enabled the inclusion of numerous mele about various forms of voyaging, resonating deeply with the launching of the latest World Wide Voyage. This theme re-grounded our kauhale in the powerful narrative of the Hōkūleʻa and sparked discussions about the significance of Hawaiian practices. It also highlighted our role as beneficiaries of the courageous efforts of those who came before us, touching on broader connections to Moananuiākea beyond Hawaiʻi, and integrating ideas about Hawaiian migration, navigation skills, and the collaborative reclamation of Hawaiian practices across the Pacific.
Coaching and CuratingAs a kumu hula and musician with a deep love for mele Hawaiʻi, I had the opportunity to share some of my favorite mele and composers with Anita, offering strong examples of Hawaiian haku mele (songwriting). My goal was to showcase the brilliance and beauty of Hawaiian song composition and poetry to both haumāna and our community. Anita, already possessing a vast appreciation for world music and a background in teaching music internationally, was eager to explore the Hawaiian music landscape. This shared passion made it easy to connect and collaborate, drawing from my lifetime of experience with Hawaiian music.
Complexities and ContextsOur campus redesign focuses on grounding education in ʻōiwi resources while centering haumāna in the learning process. Anita valued this approach and sought to integrate student voice and choice into her pedagogy, something she had experimented with in the past. Together, we navigated the complexities of aligning these goals—ensuring that the ʻōiwi narrative and student agency coexisted in meaningful ways. How could we guide students toward the best ʻōiwi resources while also allowing them the freedom to explore? How could we balance the need for students to engage with exemplary Hawaiian music while also empowering them to make their own choices?
Anita’s approach, which included involving students in decision-making, offering solos, and providing narrations, exemplified this balance. The process was challenging yet rewarding, particularly in the context of choral singing, where harmony is key, but individual expression was also encouraged. This approach allowed haumāna to explore different pathways within the performance, incorporating instrumental parts, dance, and varied delivery styles.
Community IntegrationThe performances became moments of cultural learning and community building, where haumāna, teachers, and the broader kauhale came together. The excitement generated by the new mele and the uplifting story of the Hōkūleʻa was palpable, creating opportunities for other kumu to contribute, whether through hula, costuming, or other supportive efforts. The concerts underscored music’s power to unite the community and integrate elements that give our educational program its deep meaning and ʻŌiwi identity.
Concluding ThoughtsOne of the most rewarding aspects was watching haumāna gradually embrace and take ownership of the mele, transforming what initially felt foreign into something familiar and meaningful. This journey was magical to witness.
Regarding Anita, her most significant growth was in her transition from teaching world music as a way to bring global cultures to Hawaiʻi to using music as a medium to empower students with their own people's stories—stories that connect Hawaiʻi to the wider world. This shift required courage, self-awareness, and a willingness to seek out expertise in a culture she is still learning. We ask much of our teachers, challenging them to step into change not because it is convenient, but because it is necessary. Anita found a way to harmonize these elements, creating a richer and more authentic learning experience for all involved.
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