For my final project, I conducted a social-environmental experiment at Hawaii loa campus on 11/30. I attempted to plant 3 dryland kalo in the middle of the front lawn of campus in the middle of the day. Why did I do this? What was my intention? Those are the first questions people have asked me when I share this story. Well, I did this for several reasons. First of all, I simply wanted to test what the reaction would be from HPU staff and students. How would the act of planting kalo in that open public space of HPU be perceived by people? Would people perceive this is a good thing? Bad thing? Also, by planting kalo in the front lawn of HPU, without any permission from the school, I wanted to challenge the idea of landownership. Maybe more specifically, I wanted to challenge the way people control space in the environment. What happens when I disrupt the order and control that has been imposed on the landscape at HPU? HPU expects us to go to class and participate in whatever we do at campus, then leave. The lawn and landscaping on campus is meant for our viewing pleasure, not as a space for us to plant food. What happens if someone steps out of line, and doesn’t do what he/she is “supposed” to do? Broadly speaking, I just wanted to try and challenge/test the system, and see what happens.
Second of all, in doing this experiment, I wanted to take action and protest the lack of sustainability on campus. There around 8,000 students who attend hpu. Thousands of these students are flying from the mainland and all over the world. Whether or not we see it, this influx of people impacts the environment here in Hawaii, and the rest of the world. You have to consider the carbon footprint of everyone traveling here; fuel consumption and emissions, water consumption and waste, extra resources and materials that are imported to support students and faculty here. HPU is a commuter school, so that’s more cars and traffic, gas consumption, carbon emissions, etc. The buildings and electronics at hpu are powered by imported oil and coal. After considering all of this, my question is what are we doing to offset this impact? To what extent is HPU providing ways for students to offset their environmental impact? What steps is HPU taking to be more sustainable and self sufficient, and to teach these things to students? Most of us came from somewhere far away. Whether we like it or not, we’re all contributing to this problem. We come here, we use the space and resources at HPU to get our “education” (whatever the fuck that is) and our degrees, then most students end up moving on. That’s exploitation. Period. We colonize the land at Hawaii Loa and downtown campuses for our own gain, and what do we give back? And what channels does the university open up for us to give back? I’m not denying that hpu has “exported” many alumni who have gone out and done great things for the world. I also don't want to overlook all of the positive things that happen on campus. Friendships/relationships are made, important life-changing lessons are given. But, at some point, we also need to stop and look at the cost that all of this incurs from the environment, and we have to ask what were doing at hpu to balance that cost.
Here’s what I know off-hand. On our entire 135-acre campus, we have one garden and one aqua ponic system running. I’ve been told food raised in the garden is sold in variety boxes for $10 to anyone w/ access onto campus. Not sure where the fruit raised from aqua ponics goes. As of now, the food raised on campus cannot be used for the cafeteria, though they’re planning to change that in the coming years. So, out of our entire 135-acre campus, this is what we’re doing to be self-sufficient as far as feeding ourselves, and not relying on imported food. Otherwise, it’s been landscaped like it’s a fucking golf course. This is not enough. We have a sustainability grad program, and a green club on campus. Those are good things too. But here is my argument: Our efforts of being “green” and sustainable, should not be limited to one grad program, and one club. Our entire school should be a green club, and a sustainability program. It should be our way of life on campus. It should be in our mission statement, as part of being a true “global” citizen.
It was my hope that, by taking this action and doing this experiment, I could somehow bring attention and open up dialogue to discuss these problems.
I chose to plant kalo in my experiment for specific reasons that are probably obvious to many people. Kalo is symbolic of Hawaiian culture, and it is a plant of great spiritual importance. Kalo is our older brother Haloa, and he connects us to the gods and ancestors. We take care of kalo, and kalo takes care of us. We are haloa. Kalo, and its cultivation, represents a sustainable and mutual way of life between man and the environment. Kalo is more than just a food plant; it is our family. This is extremely different from the Western Capitalist view that sees the earth and its resources as commodities to use and expend for profit. I felt that no other plant could have involved culture, religion, and the environment in my experiment the way that kalo did. And in terms of taking action and attempting a “resistance” to the system, it was the right plant to take with me on the journey. I had 3 plants-2 were Hao Kea variety, 1 was Piko Kea. Both are known for making good poi. Hao Kea is also known for its medicinal and ceremonial uses.
I got to school around 1230pm. I parked in the lower lot near the shuttle stop. When I parked my car, my intention and what I was about to do really begun to set in, and I was nervous as shit. I had no idea how bad the consequences would be for doing what I was about to do. I figured worst case scenario, they could charge me for something like destruction of property in the 3rd degree (I looked up the laws the night before). I was banking on the fact that I was a student there, and that I could justify my actions somehow by my experiment, and they would just slap me on the wrist. Whatever the consequences would be, there was no going back after I dug up the lawn. I sat in my car for about 20 mins thinking about these things. At some point I snapped out of these thoughts and said fuck it. I grabbed the 3 kalo plants, my shovel, and marched out to the middle of the lower front lawn at about 100pm.
When I broke the soil with my shovel, I was no longer a part of the normal “system” at hpu—the system of students coming and going, passing by the lawn, maybe noticing and admiring the pretty landscaping on campus. When I started digging in the lawn, I felt like I was by myself, apart from everyone else on campus. My only allies were the kalo plants. Despite this, I was calm as I started digging. I didn’t rush or hurry my task. I acted like I had the right to be there and do what I was doing. It didn’t take long for students to notice me. Some glanced and stared as they passed by. I finished planting the first Hao Kea. Then, I had my first encounter.
The first person to approach me was a middle-aged woman. She came straight up to me and asked politely “excuse me, do you have permission to do that?”
I remember responding with a puzzled tone, like I didn’t understand what the problem was. “No. I need permission to plant kalo?”
“Yes. You can’t just plant that here without permission.”
“Why? I just wanted to give the school this kalo.”
“You just can’t do that here. You have to get permission from the property manager”
“Oh. Well, what would happen if I just keep planting here, without getting permission?”
“They’re either going to take them out, or mow them over. They won’t let them stay there.”
I told her I felt that was a shame, and a waste. She explained to me that the university has a garden and spaces where I could plant. Soon after that I explained to her that I was doing an experiment and testing the reaction of folks on campus. I also explained that I was protesting the lack of sustainability on campus, feeling that the school can do much more. I asked her for her name, but she wouldn’t tell me. She said “you won’t give me your name, so I’m not going to give you mine.” All I got out of her was that she was part of administration at HPU. I asked her if she was going to report me. She said “no. I slightly respect what you’re doing, so I’m not going to do anything.” I thanked her for this and for coming to talk to me, and she went on her way.
After she left, I began to dig for the second plant-the piko kea. A few minutes went by and I got the piko kea planted in the ground. Just as I began to dig for the third plant, the man who I knew was eventually going to come and stop me showed up about 15 minutes after I first broke the soil. Norman of HPU security flew onto the lawn in his golf cart. I saw him coming straight toward me, and I remember thinking “alright, here we go!” This was my second encounter.
Norman stopped his cart right next to me. He asked me “what are you doing?! What are you doing?!”
I answered him calmly “I’m planting kalo.”
“Oohhh you cannot do that here!”
“Why not?”
“You cannot plant here. Do you have permission? Did you talk to property manager?”
“No. why can’t I plant here? There’s all this open space on the lawn here. I just wanted to give this kalo to school.”
He replied “I’m sorry you cannot do that here though. You can plant in the garden. But not here.”
He asked for my student ID. I gave it to him without any protest. Unlike the administrator, I didn’t tell Norm I was doing an experiment. This was a crucial part of my experiment—to get caught. I needed to see what happens to someone who wants to do something as harmless as planting kalo. To my surprise, after Norman took my info down, all he initially did was politely ask me to take the kalo out, fill the holes back in, and make sure the ground was level. I knew the kalo was never going to be able to stay there, so I saved the grass I dug up and was very neat with everything. Norman apologized one more time that I had to take them out, thanked me for my cooperation, and drove off in his cart.
I didn’t mention this in my presentation, but I want to note that students did not approach me during this thing I did. I could see some students around campus were watching me, and were curious, but no one ever came up and asked what I was doing, and why I was doing this. At the same time, no students tried to stop me either or tell me I was in the wrong. Not sure if there is anything to make of this, just wanted to note it.
As I was filling the holes in and cleaning up the “mess” I made on the lawn, I saw a man walking straight toward me from the AC building. I could tell he was HPU faculty, and I wasn’t sure what his intention was for approaching me. This was my third encounter.
He came up to me, smiling, and politely asked what I was doing. I told him that I had tried to plant kalo there, but security told me I couldn’t. I asked if he came to scold me. He replied defensively “No! No! I saw you from my office window and just wanted to come down and check out what you were doing!” He was just curious and genuinely interested. I could tell he was a good guy. I explained my experiment to him and that I was trying to protest the lack of sustainability at HPU. This got him really interested, and we talked about the garden, and the aquaponics, and some of the other things going on with campus. I told him that I feel HPU can do way better, and he agreed with me. He introduced himself. I found out he was Dr. Allen, chem. Professor at HPU, the LEED AP, and one of the leading faculty members pushing for more sustainability on campus. He extended his arm and we shook hands, despite mine being covered with dirt. He even gave me his card. Wasn’t sure why he did this at the time, but people have brought up that he probably wants to talk with me more.
.
Soon after Dr. Allen left, Norman came back just as I had filled the holes. I thought “oh fuck, what now.” He asked me to hop in his cart. I was nervous about this, but I hopped in w/o any argument. Had to go and see what would happen. He started driving toward the shop all the way past the dorms at the lower end of campus. On the way there, he showed me some trees that he had planted on campus, and he showed me the garden. I think he was trying to show that you can plant on campus, if it’s in appropriate places. I was actually surprised by some of the trees and plants I saw. When we got to the shop, he told me the property manager was coming down to speak to me. I wasn’t sure what to expect when he got there. While I was waiting, Norman introduced me to some of the landscaping workers. We talked about taro, and they suggested some good places where I could plant the ones I had. After about 10 mins of waiting, Steve the property manager showed up in a golf cart. He got up and asked “you nick?” I replied yes. He said “follow me.”
He led me back through the shop to his office. When I entered, he shut the door behind me and asked me to have a seat at his desk. This made me a little nervous, and I remember thinking “ah shit, ah shit, I could be in trouble now!” He sat down across from me at his desk. The next thing he asked me absolutely floored me, and was really the defining moment of the experiment. He looked me in the eyes, and he asked me flat-out “So what are you some kind of radical or extremist? Are you a terrorist? Should we be worried here?” This caught me completely by surprise! When he asked me this, I didn’t know what else to do but laugh. I simply told him “no I’m not. I was just planting kalo. That’s all.”
He asked me “well, why are you digging up ‘my’ lawn?’’ I told him I was doing an experiment. He didn’t really ask what my experiment was about. He lectured me about the garden and aquaponics, and defended that “we do support green things.” I wasn’t sure where he was going with this (and worried he might take action against me) so I flipped the convo and asked him where I could plant the kalo I brought. He told me I could plant them in the garden (go figure), and said he’d have one of the landscaping workers show me a good place. After that he let me go. The one thing I regret about my encounter w/ Steve is that I didn’t really get him to engage what I was protesting about. Looking back now, I really wish I would have given him more of a fight in his office and created more dialogue.
After leaving Steve’s office, I met Henry, one of the landscapers on campus. He showed me a good place to plant them in the garden right near a drainage ditch where they will get plenty water. After everything I did, the kalo ended up exactly where I thought they would—in the campus garden, a designated space for food plants. I planted the two hao kea (thought they might want to stay with each other). I ended up taking the piko kea home with me, so I can malama it and learn how to raise it.
With the kalo in the garden, my experiment was over.
This action/experiment taught me a lot about myself, about kalo, and about our system at school. Personally, I cannot even put into words how much I grew from the experience. I learned a lot about courage, and that it’s surprisingly easy to take action, challenge the system, and face whatever consequences it might bring you, when you truly believe in what you’re doing. Challenging the system, or whatever you want to call what I did, was something I’ve never really done before. I usually like to just go with the flow. Don’t really like bringing any extra attention to myself, and I definitely don’t normally go out and look for trouble-which is exactly what this experiment required of me. The sum of everything we’ve learned, our guest speakers, and the question that kept popping up when we were presented w/ problems—“What are you going to do about it?”—was my inspiration for doing the action-experiment.
If my encounters with the administrator, dr. allen, and other professors I’ve shared this story w/ are any indication, I’ve learned that the faculty generally respects what I did, and didn’t view it so much as a problem like security and property management did. Maybe this can serve as encouragement for students to have more discussion w/ professors and faculty and to share their concerns about the school and its sustainability. I think there’s a lot of common ground and agreement between students and faculty as far as what we’d all like to see on campus.
I don't view the property manager as the "bad guy" of this story at all--he was doing his job. But his question --"are you a terrorist?"-- was the most profound moment of the experience. In my eyes, the terrorist is this system we’re trapped in that is polluting, sucking the earth dry of all its resources, tearing families apart, separating us from the ‘aina, and discouraging us from taking responsibility to malama the ‘aina and each other. This system we’re in teaches us that planting kalo in an open space on a college campus is not acceptable—in fact it’s “radical” and “extreme.” Meanwhile, this system, until recently, said that it was okay for the college campus not to have recycle bins. It’s okay to import people and resources from all over the world and not worry about the damage this causes to the environment. Hey, it’s okay, it’s all for education, right? Wrong. Dead fucking wrong. Just because we can’t see the problems on our pretty, landscaped campus, doesn’t mean they’re not there.
We need to take more responsibility for our presence and our impact in the environment here in Hawaii. All semester long we’ve been asking the question “what can we do?” Individually we can recycle, ride our bikes, unplug our appliances, save electricity, etc. But after our individual actions, what is the next level of social organization for us to come together and bring larger change? An obvious answer for us students and faculty is our school. There’s so much more we can do to be sustainable on campus, and I think there is a lot of potential. We just need to have the ‘ike to do it. I’m really inspired by what Kevin has done w/ his farm and Sweet Home Waimanalo, and particularly the way he’s bringing back the ahupua’a system there. It prompts me to ask the question—why can’t we do something like that on campus? Why can’t we all come together and grow our food as a small community on campus. We can use this food in the cafeteria, or have little open produce stands at the ac building. Instead of buying crappy food from vending machines that has been imported from god knows where, we can have edible plants throughout campus. Imagine the academic potential in this. We could start a sustainable agriculture program on campus, maybe even an ahupua’a resource management program. The university wouldn’t need to hire workers to achieve this. It could offer school credit and service hours for students to run and maintain these systems. Aside from this, imagine how much this can help and heal us personally by offering ways for us to connect with the ‘aina right on our campus. Imagine how much this can heal and strengthen the lacking sense of community at HPU too.
It’s important to consider the way the kupuna managed the land around our school, long before there was a school. Kailua and Kaneohe are historically known for being important places of food production. Only a few miles away from Hawaii loa campus rests the largest mapele heiau on O’ahu. That tells us something right there. The ancient kupuna wouldn’t have labored and built a gigantic mapele at that location if it weren’t for an extremely important reason. The area was once the breadbasket of the entire ko’olaupoko district. Fast-forward to today, and we see that we’ve all but completely lost this. There’s almost no more sustainable agriculture in Kailua or Kaneohe, which means we’re now importing EVERYTHING here. I think it’s a damn shame when you consider what’s been lost, and what’s now standing in its place (golf courses, college campuses, shopping centers, etc). At the same time, I feel like we can still do something about it and rediscover what’s been lost. I think HPU can be in a position to lead this change. Just gotta get together and do it.
Maybe this is all too much. Maybe this is all too dreamy, too idealistic, too ambitious for our school. Maybe. Probably. But it’s worth considering and seriously thinking about. We can’t change the world. But maybe we can at least change our school—our own social organization—and set an example in Hawaii. We’ll never know until we come together and start having the discussion. I just know I’ve been in school for so long now, and I’m tired of just talking about problem after problem in the world, and not doing anything about it. Let’s stop spending so much time talking about problems, presenting (rehashing) them in powerpoints and papers, and let’s start devoting more time to use what we’ve learned and actually do something about it. Let’s stop worrying so much about grades, and GPA, and papers, and deadlines, and grad school, and all that bullshit that separates us from the issues that really matter in the world. I’d rather be graded on how well I kept lo‘i kalo that can feed people, than on how well I write a damn paper that’s just gonna get tossed (hopefully in the recycle bin). I don’t want to go on and on with this rant. I just want to say that our education and our experience at HPU can be so much more than what it is today. It can have so much more real meaning and positive impact for Hawaii, and the rest of the world. We just need to find a way to come together, talk about what we wanna do to make things pono on campus , and take action.
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