Our hula community mourns the passing of a woman whose light illuminated so many of our paths — Kumu Hula Leināʻala Pavao Jardin. Her departure leaves a deep ache in my heart and a silence that lingers where her laughter and presence once filled the room. Yet even through the sadness, I find comfort in knowing that her spirit lives on — in every dancer she taught, in every mele she inspired, and in every heart she touched with her aloha.
I was blessed to know Kumu Leināʻala both as a teacher and as a friend. Over the years my group, Nā Hoa, had the honor of playing for her hālau (Hālau Ka Lei Mokihana o Leināʻala), from Kalāheo, Kauaʻi. For the past few Merrie Monarch festivals, we worked together exclusively, sharing unforgettable moments and traveling to Japan together.
Watching her teach was like watching grace in motion. Every gesture, and every word of encouragement, carried the weight of generations of knowledge and the warmth of her aloha.
Kumu Leināʻala didn’t just teach dance, she taught meaning. She reminded us that hula is more than movement; it is language, prayer, and connection to ʻāina and kūpuna. She instilled in her haumāna a deep sense of kuleana — to dance not for applause, but to honor the stories and people who came before us.
Her ability to blend discipline with love made her truly exceptional. Working with her pushed me to grow as a singer. I can still hear her voice at practice, “No! Higher, sing higher, we need that note!” She held every one of us to high standards because she believed in what we could create together.
This past spring, before the Merrie Monarch Festival, I spent precious time practicing with Kumu Leināʻala and her niece, Jaedyn Janae Puahualani Pavao. We shared laughter, nerves, and moments of gratitude as Jaedyn prepared for the competition.
When she was crowned 2025’s Miss Aloha Hula, it felt as though the entire island of Kauaʻi was smiling. I felt deeply honored to be part of that moment — a celebration of Jaedyn’s mastery and of Kumu Leināʻala’s teaching, legacy, and love. Little did I know then that it would be one of the last times I would see her in person.
Beyond her brilliance as a kumu, she was a dear friend — genuine, funny, fiercely loyal, and devoted to Ke Akua. Kumu Leināʻala carried a divine gift — the ability to make everyone feel seen and valued, whether you were a seasoned dancer or someone first learning to ʻami.
Through her, I learned that leadership is aloha — quiet strength, humility, and service to others. We shared many talks about advocacy, leadership, and Native Hawaiian issues; she was always a positive and guiding force within our lāhui.
Kumu Leināʻala’s passing reminds me how vital our kumu are to our Hawaiian culture — the keepers of our language, stories, and spirit, guiding us to remember who we are and where we come from.
Her voice will continue to resonate in her hālau, her teachings alive in every mele and every kaholo. We will carry her manaʻo in our hearts, and her legacy will forever be part of Hawaiʻi’s history — a lasting testament of love, culture, and hula.
Aloha ʻoe, e Kumu Hula Leināʻala. A hui hou.
