Hula

by Jasmin Iolani Hakes

Learning hula was studying a new language and a new way of moving, but it was also learning about the `āina, about the environment and the relationship of the elements, about how to treat the planet and how to appreciate the forces at work. It was the study of mythology and anthropology, of ecology and botany, astronomy and zoology. It was memorizing chants and getting to know the plants in the backyard that would be used to dye the fabric for the skirts. It was hand motions and facial movements, summoning fire from the belly and letting your heart beat through your feet. Hula was a way of seeing the world and accepting a role within it. Hula wasn’t just something you did for a couple hours a week. You didn’t just take lessons. You became it. To be a real hula dancer, your skirts were always on, in one way or another.

If you speak Hawaiian, you will not be successful. If you continue your Hawaiian ways, you will perish. Hawaiians are savages, but noble and well-meaning ones. Where she was stupid, the school would educate. Where she was wrong, the school would right. Where she was brown, the school would white.