I remember Kumu’s look of approval as soon as the principal left our classroom. We had all answered her secret call of “Mālama Pono!” which was our signal to report to our assigned stations around the classroom and shift English translations over the ‘ōlelo Hawai’i (Hawaiian language) signs and papers she created for the room. Kumu (teacher) taught us to do this before administrators walked through our class, and we thought it was the best game ever—who wouldn’t want to pull a prank on the principal?
It wasn’t until years later that I realized Kumu was training us for activism in a world actively erasing our culture and language. In 1896, when the Law of the Republic of Hawai’i (Act 57, section 30) was passed to outlaw the teaching and use of ‘ōlelo in classrooms, there were over 40,000 Hawaiians living and speaking their mother language in Hawai’i. Today, there are only 2,000 native speakers, but a 2015 Hawaii State Data Center census reported that 5.7% of families are speaking ‘ōlelo at home, in part, due to language revitalization efforts occurring after Act 57 was overturned. In her own way, Kumu created a liberatory classroom to ensure the safety and growth of language and traditions, allowing her students to learn in ways that our ancestors would have wanted.
Much like stellar scholars and educators today such as Drs. David Stovall, Donna Y. Ford, Jamaica Heolimeleikalani Osorio, Socorro G. Herrera, Venus Evans-Winters, Tyrone C. Howard, and so many other learning liberators who center culturally sustaining methods as acts of education justice, Kumu used her classroom as a culturally rebellious space to teach us about the histories, stories, and language of our past to preserve our ancestral knowledge while also learning the grade-level standards to continue advancing in the American school system.
“Mālama Pono” has stuck with me throughout my education and teaching journeys. With every shift in roles, I hear Kumu’s call to action and have wondered how this call is reflected in schools today. My curiosity brought me to O’ahu, where I partnered with the Institute for Native Pacific Education and Culture (INPEACE) and their Ka Lama homegrown teacher program. Through an ongoing study with teachers and administrators in an area with the largest population of Native Hawaiians in the state, I developed the Hānai Pedagogy framework, which I am sharing here, along with recommendations for higher education.
Hānai is ‘ōlelo for adopted kin and is an acronym for the pedagogical practices that are rooted in critical mentoring that emerged from this study:
● Hands-on Activities. In every classroom and school, learning is rooted in hands-on activities stemming from Ka Lama projects that centralize STEM-based and ancestral knowledge building. I witnessed lessons on Indigenous gardening, collaborative school murals of local folklore, and a lesson on U.S. presidents mirrored with Hawaiian monarchs with students depicting their histories through dramatic scenes.
● Aloha. In ‘ōlelo, Aloha has many meanings, but it always encompasses love. Hānai was chosen purposefully for this pedagogy. It is an expression of chosen family, echoed throughout every classroom I visited. Each class felt like being at an auntie’s house, and the aloha was shared verbally and through the quiet actions of camaraderie that became a customary component of ongoing observations and interactions.
● Navigation. Administrators were heavily involved in supporting their staff and collaborating with INPEACE. One administrator encouraged her paraprofessionals to consider teaching as a career and connected them with INPEACE directly. When transportation and lack of childcare became a barrier, this principal ran a pilot program at her site where university faculty came to her school to teach, students brought their children during evenings and weekends to learn together, and grants paid for schooling. This navigation was extended to teacher candidates, who used what they learned from administrators and mentors to help students and families navigate obstacles around learning, the COVID-19 pandemic, and finding community resources.
● Authenticity. Educators and administrators never masked their cultural identity. They spoke Pidgin with their students and used talk story (sharing knowledge through experiential storytelling) to deliver their lessons. They shared triumphs and challenges, and used each experience to connect to what students were navigating or to the state-standardized lesson.
● Interrelations. Interrelations has two practices. First, teachers shared an invested connection with their students and families. In the community, teachers would talk story with parents about their child’s progress or updates about lessons on the horizon. Hugs and ‘Aloha’ were shared across these spaces, likely resulting in increased parental volunteer support in schools. Second, ancestral knowledge through cultural traditions and talk story were juxtaposed with modern technology, such as smartboards and laptops. Students used ‘ōlelo to discuss the histories of monarchs and then watched a documentary or hula on YouTube as the teacher interrelated these lessons across time and technology.
Recommendations for Implementation in Teacher Preparation Programs
The pedagogical framework I have shared situates teacher preparation courses to focus on each of Hānai’s five practices as units of study. Hands-on activities encourage teacher candidates to create project-based lessons directly connected to their students’ cultural backgrounds while also tying these lessons to mandated standards.
Candidates can express aloha within these lessons and through informal conversations with students. In racially diverse settings, it will be important for teacher preparation programs to support candidates in interrogating their biases so that they are open to giving and receiving aloha as future classroom leaders.
Higher education faculty can also support teacher candidates in researching local resources and the hidden teaching curriculum to prepare candidates to navigate school systems, student and familial challenges, and the ongoing needs of the wider community. Candidates can connect with students and families through their authenticity in lessons and parent meetings, sharing more of themselves and creating a collaborative space.
This authenticity and shared aloha will lead to stronger interrelations with students and the community as the candidate becomes an established faculty member at the site. Teacher preparation courses can also support candidates by introducing them to technology as a resource for supporting culturally sustaining hands-on activities. These practices of Hānai Pedagogy are applicable to classrooms across the U.S., providing a framework to establish relationships and care with children and families of the global majority, but also lessons in connecting to the community as a whole. It is a way a to teach culturally rebellious spaces as discussed herein.
Dr. Robin Brandehoff is an assistant professor of Educational Foundations in the School of Education & Human Development at University of Colorado Denver.