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Under the Sun Cynthia Oi |
Dobelle’s team
of outsiders acted as
their own insidersSOONER or later we'll find out why Evan Dobelle was fired, or at least the "cause" the University of Hawaii Board of Regents has set upon in dismissing the president.
Whatever the official reason, at least part of Dobelle's descent from energizing visionary to stumbling washout has been attributed to an inability to get along in Hawaii, to penetrate the barriers between outsider and local.
No one has dared to say outright that he was seen as an uppity mainland haole who snubbed local sensitivities, but undertones of the viewpoint were audible beneath careful remarks of politicians, faculty, community leaders and others.
There have been many times, private and public, when localism seeped into conflict and life in these islands. Slippery to define, the characteristic fuses values and attitude, social and economic standing, birthplace and ethnicity. It can be precious asset or parochial contaminant.
But in Dobelle's case, I don't think it can be marked as the overpowering toxin that produced this unseemly mess. It isn't an "only in Hawaii" situation. Disrespect knows no boundaries of ocean or land. It is not one-sided or singular.
Paul Costello, who arrived at the university as a member of Dobelle's imported team, plots his take on the firing as a cautionary tale for outsiders. His piece, published Sunday in the Star-Bulletin, traces Dobelle's fall to an "age-old script" of a shuttered, inbred society that devours promising newcomers at the behest of its leaders.
As an "outsider," Costello says, he received warnings about fitting in, that Reyn's shirts were an acceptable disguise and that throwing out pidgin phrases would curry favor among locals. The superficial expressions struck me as bluntly insulting, as if that's all it takes to adapt to Hawaii.
Dobelle and his crew were their own dazzling insiders. As intelligent and experienced, as sophisticated and charming, as motivated and passionate about doing good, they seemed deaf and blind to the importance of engaging the community. Not just perfunctorily, not through "howzits" and other words, but through deeds, through showing up.
Dobelle may be unaware that he was cut a lot of slack. He made big shoulders about raising money, but the flash didn't match the cash. Give him time, was the initial reaction. But extravagances overshadowed fund raising, talk subbed for progress, and evasion and snubs became the norm.
He proudly wore the lei he deserved for elevating the profile and substance of Hawaiian studies, but it seemed that the floral garland wove as deep into display as substance. He dismissed island customs, refusing to reconcile ego and style much to his own peril. No one demanded conformity but there was ample room for accommodation without absolute concession.
Disrespect yields the same. Once planted, it grew thorns, prickling regents, many of whose positions in boardrooms and circles of power make them unused to dissing. Too bad they could not find the high road, hanging him out to dry in absentia and leaving themselves vulnerable to charges of incivility that clouded their action.
The worst part about Dobelle's dismissal is that little can be salvaged.
In the absence of a quick, clear statement on his breach of obligations, the firing brands Dobelle with suggestions of venality. It discredits the university among educational institutions and administrators, tarnishes the board as a pernicious body, disturbs students and faculty, splits the community and widely blemishes the state. Local spirit is fouled as a destructive force.
People say UH will survive this ugly episode and that's probably true. But weathering the shock of such a disturbance is far different from moving forward, from being competitive and contributive. The university steps backward.
See the Columnists section for some past articles.
Cynthia Oi has been on the staff of the Star-Bulletin since 1976. She can be reached at: coi@starbulletin.com.