Natural disasters reveal us.
They reveal compassion and self-preservation. Resilience and vulnerability. The instinct to help and the impulse to isolate. Generosity and scarcity. Our response to disaster is never simple, nor are the choices we make in its aftermath.
In the days before Lala reached our shores, the Office of Hawaiian Affairs (OHA) prepared for what might come and how we could meet the needs of our beneficiaries in ways uniquely ours to answer.
Then the rains came.
Biblical floods struck a community where Native Hawaiians comprise more than 35% of the population. Roads disappeared. Families and neighborhoods became landlocked and fragmented. A life was lost. And the devastation only deepened with the disinterment of iwi kūpuna, as communities struggled to reach one another and secure their families, homes, and lands.
There are moments when leadership becomes less theoretical.
Perhaps it was knowing that one of our own, along with his ʻohana, was among those cut off by the disaster. Perhaps it was the security of our own health and safety reminding us of those more exposed and vulnerable. Whatever the combination of circumstances, there was an unmistakable urgency to act. Act quickly. Act generously. Act with the right intentions.
Even in suffering, comparisons can emerge: “Who received more? Who received first? What is my fair share? Why aren’t my needs being met, too?” Those questions are understandable amid uncertainty and loss – and we should hear them.
We can respond immediately where need is clear, while recognizing that the first response need not be the final one. We can phase our recovery efforts, learn from experience and sound data, and pledge to do more, for more, as time, resources, and opportunity align. An initial boundary on assistance need not be the boundary of our concern.
This is only the beginning of OHA’s response. Our work is never truly done; we will continue to learn alongside our beneficiaries how best to serve them, inspired by their perseverance.
Rooted in the same kanaka values that teach us to care for one another, we will endure, serve, lead and heal, drawing strength from what has carried us this far.
At a recent board meeting, Uncle Louie Pelekai reflected on an earlier column, “Our Kūpuna Imagined Something Extraordinary.” With humor and humility, he shared a life of teaching, service and quiet care for others.
In an unhurried, storytelling way he spoke of his work as a plumber, the wife he lovingly cares for, and the hope with which they await news of a homestead award, I was reminded that resilience, grace, and aloha are often embodied without fanfare. His is a life well lived – a continuum of kuleana and endurance for the better that lies ahead.
Our post-Lala recovery can be similarly instructive. We can meet immediate needs while building toward a recovery that reaches beyond the first days or first program.
And we can remember that our kuleana remains long after the floodwaters recede.
Ke aloha nō me ka mālama pono,
Summer Lee Haunani Sylva
Ka Pouhana Kūikawā | Interim Chief Administrator
