I want to begin this month’s column with something simple, direct, and deeply important: If you are a Native Hawaiian, enroll in OHA’s Native Hawaiian Registry Program.
Before we talk about elections, civic clubs, or political history, we need to talk about this one act — because it is one of the clearest expressions of who we are and how we show up for our lāhui.
Some people think of the Registry as paperwork. I see it as something much more powerful. Enrolling is a declaration: I am Hawaiian. I belong. I participate. It is one of the most accessible ways to demonstrate civic responsibility, and it is a foundational step in what I’m introducing today as “political muscularity.”
“Political muscularity” is a term I’ve been quietly carrying for a while, and this is the first time I’m bringing it into our public conversation. It describes the strength that comes from coherence, unity, and disciplined civic engagement. Not force. Not dominance. But the steady, intentional practice of showing up for one another — in our institutions, in our communities, and in the decisions that shape our future.
Enrolling in the Registry is one of the first places we flex that muscle. It tells our legislature, our institutions, our bureaucracy that we are present. It ensures that programs designed for Native Hawaiians reach Native Hawaiians. And yes, it opens doors: housing and business loans, scholarships, cultural grants, health initiatives, and community programs that uplift families across the pae ʻāina.
These benefits aren’t favors. They are investments — but they only work when we step forward to receive them.
Equally important, this idea of political muscularity isn’t new to us. Our kūpuna lived it long before we had a name for it. As shared in a featured Ka Wai Ola article this month, Prince Jonah Kūhiō Kalanianaʻole embodied it when he founded the first Hawaiian Civic Club in 1917. He understood that if Hawaiians were going to survive the political storms of the 20th century, we needed to be organized, informed, and unafraid to participate.
The civic clubs became our training grounds — places where we learned how government works, how policy is shaped, and how to advocate for our people. That legacy continues today.
Every resolution debated at convention, every committee meeting, every mentorship moment between kūpuna and ʻōpio is part of strengthening that civic muscle. And as we move toward the 2026 election, that muscle matters more than ever.
This is not the year to sit back. Not when decisions about land, education, culture, and community wellbeing are being shaped in real time. Voting is one of the clearest expressions of political muscularity — a simple, powerful way to say: I am here. I care. I participate.
But voting alone is not enough. Political muscularity is a lifestyle, not a moment. It’s joining a civic club and other civic organizations, the royal and benevolent societies, and other cultural and lineage-based organizations. It’s enrolling in the Registry. It’s talking story with your ʻohana about the issues that matter. It’s choosing to be counted, choosing to be informed, choosing to be engaged.
So, as I introduce this idea to you — political muscularity — I’m really inviting us to remember who we are. A people who have always known how to organize, how to advocate, how to stand together with clarity and aloha. Let’s carry that forward into 2026. Let’s flex that muscle. Let’s show up for our lāhui in every way we can. Aloha and mālama for now.
