by Arielle Kaimana Taramasco
There is an old Hawaiian saying, “he ali‘i ka ‘āina, he kauwā ke kanaka,” meaning “land is chief, man is its servant.” It’s important to note that this is one of the few phrases in the Hawaiian language that perfectly translates into English while still maintaining its original meaning. In Hawai`i, where almost 90% of goods are imported, and sustainability is constantly questioned due to the high housing demand and an economy dependent on tourism in a delicate ecosystem, the younger generation has begun a quiet revolution to care for their land and create a Hawai`i that will last.
Hawai'i’s ecosystem blossomed as flora and fauna adapted to live together in harmony over several million years and lost their natural defenses in the process. According to the Bishop Museum’s Hawai'i Biological Survey, 90 percent of all land species are native and endemic, meaning they are found nowhere else in the world. Even the top predators in Hawai'i are limited to a few birds, such as the endemic hawk and owl. As missionaries and settlers started to come to the islands, they brought with them invasive species that began to consume the land without any proper control.
Maria Ahsing, a senior art student at University of Hawai'i, has been a part of the conservation movement for a little over four years now. When she's not in school, her days are spent in the Wai'anae mountains, ridding the area of invasive plants and animals; a job requiring significant manpower. “I haul ass for work,” she says. And she’s not exaggerating.
Her official job title is Watershed Support Technician and Nursery Assistant. “Most of the work I do has an emphasis on invasive species removal, dryland forest restoration, and native plant propagation,” says Ahsing. “[There are] multiple worksites that we maintain monthly, and each component of my work is applied at every site."
Most of the protected plant species can only exist in the upper mountain regions away from human interaction, and yet invasive plant species are finding their way there as well. Due to the lack of paved roads in these areas, Ahsing and her colleagues spend a few hours each morning trekking up the mountains on foot. They carry their supplies: weed wackers, trimmers, herbicides and other gardening gear.
The Wai’anae mountain range sits on the leeward side of the island, where there is little wind or rain, and temperatures can average 90 degrees fahrenheit. As winter approaches, the average can drop to around eighty degrees.
Ahsing’s job description varies daily. “Depending on the day, we might weedwack and
chainsaw all day,” she says. “Other days we might focus on manually pulling smaller weeds around outplanting and then outplant some more...on a rarer occasion, we might even stumble across native outplanting flowering and collect seeds for
propagation in our nursery. It just depends on what the 'āina [land] is up to.”
Periodically, she assists with ridding invasive animals such as goats and boars with controlled hunting. “Helicopters go up and the people inside can see the goats and shoot them from the sky,” she says. Feral boars are also hunted by both conservationists and local hunters for game and food. On the topic of this controversial measure of invasive species eradication, she says, “People don’t understand, if you don’t [get rid of] at least sixty percent of pigs within the year, they populate so quickly that they will double in population the next year.”
Feral boars and goats feed mainly on the defenseless endemic flora in the mountain range, and boars can become a threat to humans in close proximity. Due to their size and the loose mountain soil, boars and goats dislodge plants and they can topple the soil, making it impossible for any regrowth. Without regrowth, the mountain erodes and the endemic insect and animal species become extinct at a faster rate.
Invasive species are introduced through several means: faulty quarantine, government-induced pest control gone rogue, and even as hitchhikers.
What inspires a small group of locals to bear the heat and hard work? “I simply feel that it is my kūleana [responsibility],” Ahsing says, and likens it to if someone were to visit your home: “Imagine that somebody leaves a mess in your kitchen. Do you still clean up that kitchen? And the answer for me at least will always be yes, because who else is going to clean up your hale [home]? If you have pride and love for your home, you will take care of it, and this 'āina [land] is my home too.”
Ahsing also uses her experience in the environment as inspiration for her artwork; the latest of which is currently on display at the Hawaii Museum of Art. The relief print, Ka Wahine 'o Kaiona (The Woman of Kaiona) depicts two Hawaiians pointing to the mountains, an 'Iwa bird flying overhead, and a border depicting the life cycle of land and sea plants and animals.
“One thing I’ve learned about sustainability from my work is that sustaining an area sufficiently is dependent on you, on the community,” says Ahsing. “I am really grateful that I am able to continue this work during school. Being able to work in the mountains every other day keeps me focused through school and passionate about the material that I’m learning.”
Ahsing is one of the latest in her generation of artists who use their influence on environmental sustainability and activism. Late Native Hawaiian singer and director of Protect Kaho'olawe Ohana (PKO), George Helm, was of the first to spearhead the Aloha 'Āina movement; aloha being the Hawaiian word for love, and 'āina for land.
To people like Helm and Ahsing, loving the land is synonymous with caring for it.
“This organization came into being as a result of a commitment and serious concern for the Hawaiians’ future and the human attitudes that will come,” said Helm in a 1977 statement. “Our concern is toward making pathways for the proper use of Hawai'i’s natural resources.”
This comes in response to Executive Order 10435, which in 1941 defined the island of Kaho`olawe as a military reservation to be used for target bombing by the United States Department of Navy.
“There is no room for compromise compared to combat readiness,” said a statement by the US Navy in response. “All other considerations must remain secondary in the interest of natural defense.”
This correspondence started a statewide awakening for both conservation and activism, especially to reclaim Kaho'olawe as a protected state land and not as a military reservation; arguing that combat practice and preparation does not take precedence over deep cultural and sustainable ties to the island.
“I was never taught to be proud of my blood,” said fellow activist Walter Ritte. “Getting involved with Kaho'olawe, that’s what I feel the most. I’m proud of my Hawaiian blood and nobody can tell me any different.”
Helm and Ritte’s efforts to educate Native Hawaiians on the happenings and history of
Kaho`olawe led to the military handing the island back to the state in 1993, and Kaho'olawe Island Reserve Commission (KIRC) started soon after.
Oahu native Tazman “Tazzy” Shim has been following in the footsteps of Helm and Ritte, and recently returned from his third voyage to Kaho'olawe with KIRC, where he spent a week restoring land-based habitats and watersheds.
Shim’s once-white shirt has been dyed pink from the red soil that covers the island. This red color comes from oxidation and rust minerals, and this particular soil covers almost the entire 45 square-mile island.
“It’s really rare that there is that abundance of oxisols,” says Mike Mooring, scientist and professor of Ecology and Conservation at Point Loma Nazarene University. “That very well could be a result of years of bombing on the island...but the levels of minerals in that type of tropical soil are not ideal for agriculture.”
Shim and his counterparts take these notions into consideration by planting dryland species that thrive in environments such as this. Still, he doesn`t believe the island could be repopulated again, but returns whenever he can to assist in repropogation. “Restoration of the island, it’s important,” says Shim.
The world has much to learn about Hawai'i’s small scale, yet big impact conservation effort. If it has not taught the public about environmental injustices by carelessness and military impact that are either unspoken of or intentionally hidden from history, it teaches the world that caring for the land requires the voices and actions of many. “Be engaged with the 'āina that takes care of you,” Ahsing says. “It is impossible for a few to carry the kūleana [responsibility] of maintaining the resources in your community. It takes the hands of many.”
It’s safe to say that the state of Hawai`i agrees. The state motto, plastered on every state building, including the Capitol, reads, “Ua mau ke ea o ka 'āina i ka pono o Hawai'i.” In English, “The life of the land (Hawai'i) is perpetuated in righteousness.”
Without righteousness and the care of the people who populate Hawai'i, the land will not survive. Just as the proverb suggests, if the land cannot survive, neither can the people.
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