The Nā Leo Team would like to congratulate the October 2021 prize winners for their incredible and meaningful art!

A Letter to my Tūtū Man By: Tyler Keonekai Rabara

It took me so long to feel the slightest bit okay with myself.

You would have hated that I couldn’t love me the way you loved me.

I once set forth tiny footprints next to yours as we walked the beach,

and your love for this āina and this kai would wash over me.

No different than the puamelia tree in your garden;

I was rooted here by your close love and care.

I loved to parade around your māla as a pēpē

where all of your moa would follow me like I was the ringleader.

I ate your cherry tomatoes and smiled when golden rays shone through all of your trees.

That was love as I understood from you, pāpā.

Then you were gone, and the colonial forces ruled the oceans

telling me “you don’t belong here fag”.

What would you say? How would you feel?

Love that once filled me emptied out through the cracks of destruction like the wai o Kaho‘olaweakanaloa.

I searched for you everywhere I went.

How many times have you walked these paths, swam these waters, and loved these islands?

With you no longer by my side, I hid all the parts of myself I was taught to hate.

Where is the Aloha? Where is my Haloanākalaukapalili?

It took me so long to feel the slightest bit okay with myself.

You would have been sad to see me not love myself the way you loved me.

Scared, I assumed our ‘ohana would cut my own heart out if this was me: māhū.

I ran away from the truth looking for something that was always within me.

Your hands that once tended the dirt are the same that shaped me.

My love for the ‘āina, the moana, and these moku is your love flowing out of me.

“Mā-” a stative prefix indicating quality or state.

“Hū” to rise or swell(esp. as emotion).

This has always been me. This has always been in the family.

Something written in the stars for generations before Haole condemned it. Condemned our people.

When I speak of our mo‘okūauhau,

when I speak of kuleana to the land and sea,

When I speak of living in the truth,

I will swell, I will rise, I will let my ancestors burst forth.

Little did they know, hell, little did i know, māhū meant much more than they might ever accept.

But you knew: You knew that I needed to be the fiery ball of mana that came from your breath.

“Dance how you want to dance, don’t let anyone take that smile”.

Now I see you everywhere, e ku‘u tūtūkāne, as I look up again.

It took me so long to love myself the way I do today.

You would be happy to know how far I’ve come in the journey of life.

Mahalo nāu Aloha

Mahalo nui loa no kēia ola

To note: In Haunani-Kay Trask’s work Writing in Captivity: Poetry in a Time of Decolonization she says, “Decolonization is all around us. My work could not exist outside this context, nor would I want to write in any other”. I relate heavily to this. As a young Hawaiian, I myself have had to unlearn and decolonize my mind from ideas imposed by America such as the idea that Homosexuals are abominations to Christ Jesus. Being māhū (a noun: Homosexual, of either sex; hermaphrodite) is not any more a choice than having the skin color one does. In an effort to shed light on the struggles these imposed ideas have had on young Hawaiians, alongside using Traks’s idea of intertwining art and politics, I composed this spoken word.

Upcountry Maui Water Brigitte Leilani Axelrode and Angelique Kalani Axelrode

This is a diorama that my sister and I collaborated on. The piece is titled, “Upcountry Maui Water Shortage” and it is a mixed media work. Our names are Brigitte Leilani Axelrode and Angelique Kalani Axelrode.

xThe creation of this diorama fueled by disbelief and frustration. To see the direct juxtaposition of constant overconsumption by giant corporations (resorts) that support mass tourism on Maui, against locals fulfilling their everyday needs, it begs one to question: who are the beneficiaries of this system? Who is most highly valued vs. who should be most highly valued? Why are kamaʻāina being fined yet tourism consistently results in mismanagement of Hawaiʻi’s natural resources.

While there are many structural issues having to do with Maui’s water diversions, (East Maui irrigation is owned by private companies) there has been discourse about how to fairly and appropriately distribute water amongst drier areas on Island. I look to leaders like @kanielaing , @ainamomona , and many others to continue educating myself on these matters.

Buried by Lana Rinaldi

The forgotten teacup, once loved and showered with kisses from rosy lips, now lies alone outside

tangled

in the grass of wildflowers

under the afternoon sun. Glints of its gold-accented ear peek through its dusted shell

in the dampened summer air. The voice of a cricket

in a nearby creek

sings a dainty song,

while a sudden uproar of birds flutter by in the wooded forest

surrounding the abandoned dwelling

of a vanished maid.

Smells of an approaching rain

fill the air swiftly in one fluid breeze, and the sky grays

with sorrowful clouds. As the tears of the heavens

fall from up above, the teacup sinks

slowly into the mud

of the now-wet grass.

Once an adored cup of fragrant Earl Grey,

now a cup of soil with bitter notes of grass.