New book traces roots
of activism in Hawaii

By Nadine Kam
Assistant Features Editor

VISITORS may be oblivious to the subtle manipulations that bring them to our shores -- whether old Elvis movies or hapa-haole songs touting "little grass shacks" and "kaukau and laulau at the hukilau" -- but we know better.

Behind the facade of a tropical idyll, there are a thousand battles that take place every day. They range from issues as monumental as sovereignty, same-sex marriages, women's reproductive rights, water rights and beach access, or can be as jejune as where you are or are not allowed to smoke.

We may wish that we could just "hang loose" and let things be, but it takes a lot of effort to maintain paradise in a city with city-size problems.

Yes, Hawaii is still a paradise, but only because there are a lot of foot soldiers in the war to keep it that way. While there is a tendency to believe that activism died in the 1960s, activism is alive today because injustice and prejudice never went away.

A new book by Robert H. Mast and Anne B. Mast traces the roots of activism in Hawaii, with oral histories recording the accomplishments of 35 activists.

Published by the University of Hawai'i Press, "Autobiography of Protest in Hawai'i" is unique in that it does not simply adhere to the public picture of protest. It also delves into the private lives of the individuals interviewed, painting a picture of family life and socio-economic factors that shaped the individuals, public thought, which in turn has shaped state politics and policies.

Between the book's pages, are:

Lawyer Wayson Chow, who grew up in the '50s in the then racially and economically divided Aina Haina-Wailupe Peninsula area. He recalls visiting the home of a haole classmate and being warned by his haole neighbor, "You have no business being here!" Chow has fought for civil rights ever since.

Gary Gill, a former city councilman born to a political family. Gill helped organize union workers at the Sheraton hotel, supported political coalitions such as Nuclear-free and Independent Pacific, Protect Kaho'olawe Ohana and tackled employment and eviction issues. Eventually, he, like his father, former Lt. Gov. Tom Gill, ran for public office as a platform for change.

Ho'oipo DeCambra, a Hawaiian feminist forced to address her Hawaiian ancestry in relation to her place in Western society when her 16-year-old son asked for permission to quit school and go fishing and diving for a year.

"And I thought," she said, "What am I going to do? I'm so confused.

"That's the same way we Hawaiian women were feeling: we cannot do things Hawaiian any more. But that's not true ... We have to name them and then have the courage to act and live it out."

In the end, her son was allowed to do as he wished and, "This child built up his confidence, he built up his manliness," she said.

The process of trying to carve out a better society is slow and arduous, so much so that the apathetic or passive bystander will ask, "Why bother?"

The question is never articulated by the authors. But in the oral histories it becomes clear that each individual took a stand because they could not stomach the slightest bit of injustice.

As sociologists who lived and taught here between 1981 and 1982, the authors basically serve as tour guides in introducing the issues and participants. Their commentary points out facts obvious to anyone who picks up a newspaper. For instance, they ask us to "Just imagine the lost jobs, mortgage foreclosures, evictions, untreated illness, and crime that would result from even a 2.5 percent reduction in tourism."

Imagine? It's already reality.

The book's heart is the lives of those who made possible the standard of living we view as our birthright today. The interviews give readers an appreciation for activism that has gone on before, and an inkling that we just may have it better than we deserve for being passive and/or apathetic.

What is intriguing is that activism could thrive in Hawaii, with its largely Asian-influenced culture, one in which a tradition of modesty and reserve warns: "Don't make waves. Don't stand out. Don't make A."

Had no one challenged the status quo, those of Asian ancestry might still be resigned to a life on plantations.