In Kekaha, on the leeward side of Kauaʻi, the students at Ke Kula Niihau o Kekaha don’t just study Hawaiian culture – they live it, speak it, and write it in a version of ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi that thrived uninterrupted throughout the 20th century when elsewhere in the pae ʻāina the Hawaiian language almost became extinct.
As the only Hawaiʻi charter school dedicated to ʻōlelo Niʻihau and the Niʻihau way of life, its mission is unlike that of any other school.
With 50 students from preschool through grade 12, and teachers often covering four grade levels at once, the school is small, but its purpose is expansive.
Every lesson is part of a larger effort to not only preserve ʻōlelo Niʻihau but to sustain the traditions of poʻe Niʻihau. Through fifth grade, ʻōlelo Niʻihau is the primary language of instruction. In sixth grade, English is introduced in half of the subjects.
At the head of this effort is Pootumu (principal) Tia Koerte. Born on Kauaʻi to a mother from Niʻihau, Koerte always wanted to be a teacher. Her original dream was to return to Waimea High School, her alma mater, and start a Hawaiian language program. And, after earning her degree in ʻike Hawaiʻi from UH Mānoa, she did just that. But after just one year, the program was cut and with it, her position.
Pregnant and approaching her due date, Koerte received a call from the former principal of Ke Kula Niihau o Kekaha. She went in for an interview and to her surprise, at nine months pregnant, she was hired on the spot. That was in 2009. She began as a teacher and, six years later, became principal.
“I thought that my dream job would be at Waimea High School, but it turns out [that] this job with my community is my dream job! Growing up, I struggled with my identity,” Koerte reflected. “So, I see myself in a lot in the haumana. I am my students. Most of them were raised here in Kekaha and have never been to Niihau, but they are poe Niihau.”
Helping to ground students in their identity shows up most clearly in Ke Kula Niihau o Kekaha’s book project, a school-wide initiative that invites every student, every year, to write and illustrate a book entirely in ʻōlelo Niʻihau. The project is not only strengthening the students’ language skills but also helping to build a growing archive of literature in the language.
“At first, we were using kaiapuni (Hawaiian language immersion) resources, which were okay, but they did not reflect what I call ʻNiihauism’ – the way that poe Niihau speak, feel, and see the world,” Koerte explained. “My favorite example of a ʻNiihauism’ is poketeo. The word used in kaiapuni texts is pelehū. Both mean ʻturkey.’”
ʻŌlelo Niʻihau also differs from standard Hawaiian in its use of the letter “T” and its omission of diacritical marks in its written form (ʻokina and kahakō). These distinctions do not merely reflect linguistic variation, but the language’s enduring cultural independence.
To date, more than 450 books have been written by Ke Kula Niihau o Kekaha students and staff in partnership with Hamline University. The school plans to expand to develop audio versions to preserve oral traditions as well.
“Most people haven’t written even one book in their lifetime, but our haumana have written 13 by the time they graduate,” Koerte said proudly.
These books demonstrate both fluency and a deep cultural connection. The school is not merely graduating students – it is graduating scholars grounded in their unique identity.
Ke Kula Niihau o Kekaha’s long-term goal is to reach 1,000 books and create the world’s largest body of literature in ʻōlelo Niʻihau.
This growing archive stands in contrast to a history of erasure.
In 1896, the use of Hawaiian language as a medium of instruction was banned in public schools across Hawaiʻi following the 1893 overthrow of Queen Liliʻuokalani. Yet on Niʻihau, privately owned by the Sinclair-Robinson family, the language endured. Access to the island was, and continues to be, by invitation only. As a result, this unique form of ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi was never silenced.
Ke Kula Niihau o Kekaha is carrying that legacy forward. Through the creation of books and community dialogue, the school is helping shape a standard for teaching this form of the Hawaiian language.
Community-led gatherings have become spaces for reflection about what it means to be of Niʻihau while living beyond it. “It is important that this process is led by poe Niihau so people within the community can share their manao,” Koerte notes.
About 200 native speakers remain on Niʻihau, with another 200 or more living in the Makaweli, Kekaha, and Waimea districts of Kauaʻi. Because many Niʻihau families were awarded Hawaiian Home Land lots in Kekaha, the region has become a stronghold of Niʻihau’s diaspora community.
But, like other Kānaka Maoli families, some Niʻihau families are now joining the growing diaspora on the continent.
“There was a tupuna, a manaleo,” Koerte recalls. “He was born and raised on Niihau. But he needed someone to take care of him and none of his family lived in Hawaii, so he had to move to the continent. He was uprooted. It’s really sad when that happens. Not only is it a loss to the Niihau community, but to all poe Hawaii.”
Despite the modern pressures, the voice of Niʻihau remains unbroken. And at Ke Kula Niihau o Kekaha, students are not just learning – they are rewriting the narrative.
Out of respect for the spelling conventions used in ʻōlelo Niʻihau, standard diacritical marks have not been used in quotes attributed to Pootumu Tia Koerte.
