WansolwaraVoices for WEST PAPUA

Copyright © 2015 by the individual artists and writers of this collection

Contact: www.hawaiireview.org hawaiireview@gmail.com Submit: bit.ly/submit2HR

Cover Art: The cover art for this publication features beautiful block prints titled West Papua Merdeka! from visual artists Joy Enomoto & Bafinuc Ilai. The work at once imagines the women of West Papua being severed from their land and the land itself being desecrated through the Grasberg Mine. The work also invokes the strength and resistance of West Papuans.

The cover design was produced, generously, by Culture Shocka.

A Note on This Collection: Hawaiʻi Review is honored to publish this collection of fierce poetry and visual art, from a hui based at the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa. Featuring work from UHM students, faculty, and community members, this publication is produced in solidarity for a free and independent West Papua. We are grateful to the poets, song-writers, and visual artists featured in these digital pages. We hope this collection broadens your works’ reach.

—Hawai‘i Review, May 10, 2015

featuringLee Kava & Tara KabutaulakaNoʻu Revilla & Jamaica Osorio

Brandy Nālani McDougall & Craig Santos PerezLyz Soto & Bryan Kuwada

Rajiv MohabirJocelyn Ng, Harrison Ines, Malia Derden, & Sarah Daniels

Jonathan Kay Kamakawiwoʻole OsorioRy Rarai Aku Jr

Joy Enomoto & Bafinuc Ilai Luseane Raass

Raymond MulitaloCulture Shocka

University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa

CONTENTS

6 Introduction

POETRY + LYRICS

8 rorongo / fanongo mai Lee Kava & Tara Kabutaulaka

13 A Love Letter to West Papua Noʻu Revilla & Jamaica Osorio

15 Morning Star Brandy Nālani McDougall & Craig Santos Perez

18 Nine Percent Lyz Soto & Bryan Kuwada

21 Arlince Tabuni Rajiv Mohabir

22 Pacific Tongues for West Papua Jocelyn Ng, Harrison Ines, Malia Derden, & Sarah Daniels

26 One Salt Water Jonathan Kay Kamakawiwoʻole Osorio

27 Freedom for West Papua Ry Rarai Aku Jr

VISUAL ART + EPHEMERA 30 Joy Enomoto & Baffinue Ilai32 Ry Rarai Aku Jr34 Anonymous35 Luseane Raass36 Anonymous37 Raymond Mulitalo 38 Culture Shocka

BIOS

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INTRODUCTION

The Grasberg mine in West Papua, owned by U.S. company Freeport-McMoRan, is the largest gold mine and third largest copper mine in the world. The profits of this mine depend upon U.S.-endorsed Indonesian military occupation, the murder, imprisonment, and forced labor of indigenous peoples, and the dumping of thousands of tons of toxic waste into local river systems.

Under the illegal occupation by the Indonesian government since 1969, over 500,000 West Papuan civilians have been killed in an attempt to suppress the West Papuan independence movement and protect corporate mining, logging, and palm oil interests. Foreign journalists and human rights workers have been banned from entering the country, creating a terrible silence around this genocide, and the “modern world” continues to blithely benefit from the bits of copper and gold essential to the constructing of our electronic devices and the building of our cities.

On April 21, 2015, a dynamic hui of performers came together at Hālau o Haumea (Kamakakūokalani Center for Hawaiian Studies), University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, for a night of art and performance for justice, stretching across our great and powerful Oceania. More than 60 supporters came out for education and for community-building around this issue, in concert with a larger hui of Pacific activists and artists in Honolulu, Wellington, Aotearoa/NZ, and Suva, Fiji, who are uniting across Oceania to lament and rage against this genocide, connecting our different communities’ struggles for sovereignty and demilitarization, standing with West Papua across our “wansolwara,” our one salt water, with furious aloha.

The event—sponsored by the Gladys Kamakakūokalani ʻAinoa Brandt Center for Hawaiian Studies, Pacific Tongues, UH Mānoa Creative Writing Program, and UH Mānoa Indigenous Politics—and the artist workshop that took place on March 11, were formed by many hands. In addition to the artists included in this publication, the following individuals offered crucial support/guidance/participation in these events: Lia Maria Barcinas, Marissa Buendicho, Marion Cadora, Noe Goodyear-Kaʻopua, Mehanaokalā Hind, kuʻualoha hoʻomanawanui, D. Kealiʻi MacKenzie, Tagi Qolouvaki, Jennifer Wheeler, and Aiko Yamashiro.

The following collection of poetry, songs, visual art, and ephemera is a written record of this powerful evening. We hope that in entering this collection, more will be moved to education, to solidarity, to action.

We invite you to join us.

For more information: www.freewestpapua.org www.oceaniainterrupted.com

#wansolwara #webleedblackandred #freewestpapua #papuamerdeka #hawaiibleedsblackandred

POETRY + LYRICS

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rorongo / fanongo maiLee Kava & Tara Kabutaulaka

(italics read by Lee, regular text read by Tarcisius, bold text read together)

rorongo maifanongo mairorongo maifanongo mailisten, listen

listen!

to stories fished from the depthsstories chopped and chewed

in the teeth of islandsand the tongue of the sea

to storiesheld between us

strained through bloodstories passed in bilo

woven in bilumtapped in the rhythm

of kudu

we share kavaas storyas bodyas blood

as memoryas resistance—

so when i give you kavai give you storyi give you blood

i give you memory—listenlisten

rorongo maifanongo mai

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There once was a couplewith a daughter who was very sick

One day, a high chief came the parents had no crops to offer—

in desperation they sacrificedtheir daughter as food

for the chief

the chief,so moved his people would give so much,

refused to eat the body of their daughter—

instead he buried her with the honors of a chief

from her head grew first kava plantfrom her body grew first sugar cane

kava ko e kilia mei Fā‘imata

ko e tama ‘a Fevanga mo Fefafa

fahifahi pe mama

ha tāno‘a mōno anga

ha pulu mōno tata

ha pelu ki tau‘anga

ha ‘eiki ke olovaha

ha mu‘a ke ‘apa‘apa

ke fai‘aki e holo taumafa1

to this day, kava is our storyour bodyour blood

our memoryour resistance

so when you receive kavawhen we give you story

in the tellingwe give you bodywe give you ears

listenrorongo mai / fanongo mai

we are not just islands in a sea—we are a sea of islandswe are not just Melanesia, Polynesia, Micronesia,

we are sister, brother, auntie, uncle, ancestorand as connected Islanderswe are stories of resistance

________________________________________________________________________

1. This kava chant is quoted from Langi Tau‘olunga & Hiva Kakala (2000), compiled by Kik Velt. The Tongan chant is entitle “Ko e laulau e kilia ‘o e kava,” or “The chant of the kava.” The words that accompany the Tongan chant in this poem are a paraphrased version of the kava origin story from the same text.

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this storythis bilothis kava

is for the resistance in West Papuaso listen carefully

because when you hear “Act of Free Choice”—

26th province—

Indonesian occupation—

West Papuans are not agitators—

they are not here for autonomy—

West Papuans are not outnumbered—

we do not hear

we say

it is violent intimidation

military occupation

genocide

but freedom fighters

but full independence

because we stand with them in soli-darity

Irian Jaya

Papua Merdeka

this is what we serve—when you receive kava

we give you storyin the telling

we give you bodywe give you eyes

bebere mai / sio mailook!

because our stories make visible our Oceania

where many only seeempty space

our stories give sight—see the Morning Star rise

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our stories show West Papuawhen cameras

newspapersmedia

and governmentsrefuse to give witness

our stories weave relationshipwhen border lines are drawn

to sever the bodies of our connection

in our storieswe are not targets

for practice‘transmigration’

occupationgenocide

our stories reclaim sighteven from the narrow focus

of a gun

because once upon a timewe were the stories chopped and chewed

in the teeth of islandsand the tongue of the sea

because once upon a timewe were held togetherby the tide and stars

because once upon a timeour connection to one another

was strained through bloodand land

today, we serve that memoryas kava

when i give you kavai give you storyi give you blood

i give you memory

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we rememberthere has always been blood

in the kava bowlwe bleed

black and redwe are connected, wansolwara!

we watchwe listenwe tell

we standin story

in solidarity—

Papua Merdeka!

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A Love Letter to West PapuaNoʻu Revilla & Jamaica Osorio

I met you with your scars.

If I hold you close, will I hear machetes onyour neck? Or drums?

How do I learn to love you whenI know so little of your body?None of your spine, terrain, lifelines orthe black rapture of copper &steel closing in on itself.

What does highlands smoke smell like?

I reach for youknowing this tight lip promisethis sworn silenceʻiwi melting into its own quiet

The bird of paradise has been split inhalf Papua, half Papua.

Morning Star dawns

You need a passport to breathe & I witness your body

How do I resist loving you only in pieces we have in common—

1887 bayonets pointed at our king.1893 soldiers pointed at our queen.acts of “free choice”

I push past the language of solidarity—

More than 21,000makaʻāinana pointing back.

and cover you in my arms.

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What if where you’ve been brokered & broken, I offer myhands to keep the pit from growing?

Will Indonesia stop holding hands over your mouth?

Will the nightmares stop?If I kiss you where your bilum sits, will I taste your wing space perspire?Our touching a ceremony of resistance

This is a love letter to West Papua, to be in charge of loving itself

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Morning StarBrandy Nālani McDougall & Craig Santos Perez

~

kaikainaliʻi wakes from her late afternoon nap and reaches for nālani with small open hands—

count how many papuan childrenstill reach for their disappeared parents

using my iphone, i change my facebook profile picture to a graphic of the morning star flag and share an article about the grasberg mine— gaping open pit

count papuan children dying from copper poisoning each year

kaikainaliʻi watches cartoons on our flat screen tv while nālani and i watch an online documentary about west papua—#forgottenbirdofparadise

count how many papuan children have watched their loved onesmounted and shot

after we turn off the tvand close the laptop— nālani reads to kaikainali’i a bedtime story

“Twinkle, twinkle, small hōkūShining down on our canoeUp above the sea so high,Like a candle in the sky”

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count how many papuan childrenhave been extractedto islamic boarding schools in jakarta

“When the ocean waves are black,When we feel like turning back,Hōkū shines its little light,Guiding us all through the night.”

count papuan childrenseeking refuge across borders only to become forgotten refugees

“Waves may fall or rise up high,Keep your eyes upon the sky,Hōkū peeks out in between,Shining out its steady beam.”

count how many hashtags it will take to trend bleeding black island bodies stripmined by bullets crushed into slurry by military boots pumped through pipelines across poisoned rivers and treeless lands,shipped overseasand enslaved by our technology—

“Thunderclouds may push and shove.Rain may pour from up above.Never fear, our star is strong,Burning bright the whole night long.”

papuan cousins, we’re so sorry we didn’t see you—but we see you now—and imagine someday we can talk story chew betelnut, and color the soil

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with our spitas our children paint their faces red and playin the quiet shelterof our sacred mountains—

“Paddle one and paddle two,Following our brave hōkū,Like our fathers did before,We will make it to the shore.”

papuan cousinswe’re so sorrywe didn’t see you,but we see you nowbravely raising your flagso the world can witness the five-point star on the horizon— and we promise to rise with you until morning finally comes to heal our open wounds#papuamerdeka

“Twinkle, twinkle, small hōkū,Shining down on our canoe,Up above the sea so high,Like a candle in the sky.”

“Twinkle, twinkle, small hōkū,Shining down on our canoe.”

_______

*Quoted text by Jane Gillespie, from Twinkle, Twinkle Small Hōkū (BeachHouse Publishing, 2013).

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Nine PercentLyz Soto & Bryan Kuwada

In 2013, the American mining company Freeport McMoRan made 4,346,000,000 dollars from the Grasberg mine in West Papua, which produced 885 million pounds of copper and 1.1 million ounces of gold for the 299 million computers, 179 million tablets, and 284 million smart phones that we bought that year.

When I leave my houseI put the morning star to my back

I search for statistics in her struggling rise Spine bent like Mauʻumae Ridge, there aboveLeaning down to work in Venus’s light

A 50 year occupationAt Kahikina arrives a new dawn

An American “compromise”but I cast my eyes to the west

West Papua we make songs with your gold on our fingers

towards Komohana, the entrance to death and completion

counting one hundred thousand two hundred thousand

Hōkūloa comes from the eastthree hundred thousand

but its eyes too look to the westfour hundred thousand

where the sun enters the seafive hundred thousand dying

in the blue that connects usWest Papua, we see you in the setting sun

the light gives way to pō,to blackthe death of light, that is life

when we turn to cell phones, tablets,computers, and televisions to cast our eyesin a copper hue

In the dark of pō I cast my eyes to the west

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We cast our eyes across mountains falling to rivers spilt with tailings and blood

and see another morning startapping out poems across a keyboardmy humped spine arched to tethered limbstyping through 12 billion lbs of copper1 and a half million lbs of gold

another Hōkūloaanother Hokualiʻianother Mūlehucasting light on backs bent to the groundblack backs humped

beneath a hundred billion US dollarslike green hills outlined in light

We are blind.But the morning star rises again

while we measure for measure balance the value and the cost of human life

still obstructed by black of nightjustify price with convenience

obstructed by black in the minesat $1.50 and a death every hour

obstructed by black in the ledgerdrawing out cartographic tracksof our progress

obstructed by black on the map constructed by the toll of our lives

obstructed by they are blackand their lives are cheap

constructed by a history in dustin clay in hands molding to teach us—progress gorges itself sick. We must ravish others to husks and callourselves human—them monsters

gashed and wounded withmalachite weltscuprite soresbones extracted from their bodiesat one thousand three hundred twelve dollars an ouncetheir wails

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are not ours. We remain deaf to those drum muscles beating

rhythmic with lossand rushing circles of defiance

in half a century of US sanctioned silence.

During the 50 year occupation of West Papua, roughly 500,000 Papuans have died at the hands of the military backed by the Indonesian government, the Unit-ed Nations, and the Freeport McMoRan and Rio Tinto corporations.

That’s 500,000 dead in 50 years.

That’s 10,000 deaths per year.

That’s 27.39 deaths per day.

That’s 1.14 deaths per hour.

9% of a person died while you listened to this poemWhat is the price of a Papuan life?

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Arlince TabuniRajiv Mohabir

Close the mouth and eyes of her corpse.Light a lamp to burn three days,one day for each bullet. To prepare

her body for cremation tie her in a yellow sari. Adorn the deathbed with jasmines, with roses, with marigolds.

Carry Arlince Tabuni on a palanquin,on your shoulders, into the cremation grounds,into America: an eleven-year-old

gunned down by Indonesians with Australian ammunition for guns hunting Organisasi Papua Merdeka, to squash separatist insurrection triggered by

what the papers call “excess frustration and panic”for the rights to the womb bearing rare minerals in the ground, for America,

for the freedom to fact check this on your PDA.Withdraw the three bullets from her chestand her throat, to fold back

the skin from its grizzly blossom of gore, sew into wholeness. Place on her forehead a tikkah of sacred ash

and sandalwood paste, blessed by the Lord of Death. Drop drops of the river Ganga in her mouth. If you are not by the Ganga

use free drops of the sea, unowned,unmastered by Empire so that the soullike the surf may obtain

moksh. liberation, Merdekafor all of West Papua.

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Pacific Tongues for West PapuaJocelyn Ng, Harrison Ines, Malia Derden, & Sarah Daniels

They came to the pacific to make money they make money by raping the land to rape the land they kill the people To kill a person you need a gun

In high school no one told me about West Papua no one bothered to say recruiters are always at war. Trained to target the weak. Trained to target the brown. Have you ever noticed the amount of recruiters in a poor neighborhoods high school?Can you imagine? A brown military. A loaded gun. A pawn in a game of chess.our teachers hid your fight under our desksour government hustles your death into our taxes, the genocide and oppression is spilling out of our blind sideI wonder who my tax dollars shot today.what was their story? how do they speak?

Are there waves that have touched both of our shores.

There are 36 warheads in our harborthe military is so heavy on our skin Gun smoke breathing down our necks.Gun smoke breathing down our necks.Gun smoke breathing down our necks.Gun. Smoke. Breathe.Gun. Smoke. Breathe.Gun. Smoke. (Breathe) The recruiters are so close in this game of chess

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The recruiters are so close in this game of chess The recruiters are so close in this game of chess

Step one: Send the pawns. Armed to protect the king and queen. Loaded gun. Step two: Let them fight. There is a reason the king and queen stay in the back.There is a reason the government send their sons to attack

Step three: Condition pawns to believe that corruption is our truthDo not explain itThey never taught me this in history class anywayThey. never. taught. them this. in history class any-way

I have been watching the bloodshed for so long, it has begun to paint my eyes.

Disassemble sight.Disassemble the eyes from outside spin the world awaydisassemble sight.erase the oceans from every mapDisassemble sight.dam the tide of the West Papuan voiceDisassemble sight..blindfold Human Rights with goldtrade in 20/20 vision for 20 dollar billsPolish clean. Now paint your eyes in bloodshedPolish clean.Billion dollar companies pay for privilegeIndonesian gunsPolish CleanDrag money through the mud of illegal minesPolish Clean.Soldier wipes Native blood from handsPolish clean.Soldier tell them it is normal for their children to----Polish clean.

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Tell me ocean, what happens to our mother when her children feed on her womb? Are we still a sea of islands?--Polish clean. or are we just islands in the sea? we are measurable and thus lonely. put on the scopeWatch boulder break.load mother earth mined for her heartlock. heart into the chamber of a missle safety offWatch missile placed into hands of brown bodyWatch brother shoot brotherWatch brown bodies break like bouldersReload. Repeatwatch sons shot into soilbrown bodies replace dirtmother earth giving birth in reversesix feet into her womb

The influence of the whiteCross contaminationThe collision of oil and salt waterWe are the plague the cure.

Dear world, If I could hold your wounds in my hands, without having it leakWhat do I tell you I did with all of this distance?

Dear world,I watch old men lead their sons to fight for the greed nestled in their chests.I watch villages burn, ravaged, turned into twigs and ashlately ive been walking away. i try to donate you to the past. of copper slicked scream. of how i hold a fragment of the mine in my phone. of the bullet smelting a villages cry & plea & heat

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& leadof turning you into a natural resourceof a rifle painting smoke into warningsof a technician painting gold & copper into circuit boards

the big name companies try to erase our vastness from their mapsthey will fill your mouth with the scales of all the fish they gut,they will spill our tears in your lapthey will pile all the empty bullet shells on your backwhat is it like to be a secret keeper? To have the military force innocent blood into your clenched fists and ask the victim to apologizeWhat will we do then?How do we fight back when every dawning voicegets turned into dusk?how much stomach does it take to join the revolution? what is time but what we remember?what is distance but what are afraid to touch?

Dear world,we are here today in the Pacific to make a differenceWe make a difference by giving voice to the silencedto give voice we wrote this poemto write this poem we first learned how to listen.

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One Salt WaterJonathan Kay Kamakawiwoʻole Osorio

Once I had a memory that was longOnce I had a garden now itʻs goneWansolwara I believe your songWansolwara

Once I caught my fish within this netOnce I knew what I should not forgetWansolwara you will lead us yetWansolwara

HuiWansolwara,Our children will return their lives to theeThou gracious seaWansolwara

Once I saw the morning star at dawnOnce I saw their armies sailing homeWest Papua you are not aloneWansolwara

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Freedom for West PapuaRy Rarai Aku Jr

I hear it on the radioI read it in newspapersI watch it on TVIt’s all over the Internet

West PapuansMothers and daughters Raped and humiliatedFathers and sonsTortured and killedVillages destroyedHomes burned to the groundFamilies constantly on the run

All for what?

For their landTheir goldMoney and WealthTheir Freedom, their lives, And rights

Sanap stron West Papua Mama Graun em bun blo yumi Sanap stron brata na susa blo mi Freedom em right blo yumi!

If I saidI felt their painI knew what they were going throughI’d be lying to youI’d be lying me

I can only imagineWhat runs through a mother’sTerrified, exhausted head Lying in fear andDrowning in her tearsBecause she watched the fruit of her womb slashed to death

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A father left wonderingHow do I protect my family?How do I provide for them?Where do we go from here?I will understand if you’re tiredFather—You’re human too.

Ol brata na susa blo miLo West PapuaWe eat of the same fruitsWe breath the same airWe walk the same landWe share the watersThat surround usYou look like me and I look like youAnd yet I struggle toFully grasp all that you go through

I’ll rise up with youI’ll hold your hand andI’ll walk with youI’ll fight along side youAnd on the highest mountain I’ll raise your flag with youI’ll stand strong and make sureThey all hear me

Freedom for West Papua!

| 29VISUAL ART + EPHEMERA

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West Papua Merdeka! by Joy Enomoto & Baffinue Ilai

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by Ry Rarai Aku Jr

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34 |

by Anonymous

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by Luseane Raass

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by Anonymous

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by Raymond Mulitalo

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Tuesday, April 21, 20155:30pm 8:30pmHālau o Haumea

Kamakakūokalani Centerfor Hawaiian Studies

Wansolwara

#PapuaMerdeka#WeBleedBlackAndRed

#FreeWestPapua

Art and Performancein Furious Aloha for a Free and IndependentWest Papua

For More InformationHawaiiBleedsBlackAndRed@gmail.com

Voices for West Papua

Art by Baffinuc Ilai & Joy Lehuanani Enomoto

Sponsored by the UH Mānoa Creative Writing Program and the Gladys Kamakakūokalani ‘Ainoa Brandt Chair

Ephemera by Culture Shocka

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BIOS

Ry Rarai Aku Jr is from Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea, and attended Hawaiʻi Pacific University, where she earned a BA in political science. Her experiences growing up in Papua New Guinea motivate her research interest in women’s roles in society. Rarai is interested in exploring gender equality in the Pacific Islands and hopes to develop culturally sensitive and respectful ways to address the issues.

Joy Enomoto and Bafinuc Ilai are visual artists from Hawaiʻi and Papua Niugini who came together to create a collaborative work in support of the Hawaiʻi Bleeds Black and Red campaign to free West Papua. The work West Papua Merdeka! at once imagines the women of West Papua being severed from their land and the land itself being desecrated through the Grasberg Mine. The work also invokes the strength and resistance of West Papuans.

Tarcisius (Tara) Kabutaulaka is a scholar and teacher who has worked in universities, as well as with governments, intergovernmental organizations, and communities in the Pacific Islands. He comes from the Weather Coast of Guadalcanal in Solomon Islands, and was educated in Solomon Islands, Fiji, and Australia. In January 2009, he joined the Center for Pacific Island Studies as an associate professor. Before moving to Hawaiʻi he taught history and political science at the University of the South Pacific.

Lee Kava is a hafekasi musician and poet who just completed her MA in Pacific Islands Studies at UH Mānoa. Her work focuses on music as an expression of Tongan identities and a medium for creative and political activism. She is also a former student and graduate assistant to Tara, and is very honored to have been able to collaborate on a piece for West Papua with her teacher.

Bryan Kamaoli Kuwada believes in the power and potential of ea, of life, of breath, of rising, of sovereignty, because he sees it all around him, embodied in the ʻāina, the kai, his family, his friends, and his beautiful community. He is a long-time Ph.D. candidate in English at the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, focusing on translation theory.

Brandy Nālani McDougall (from Maui) and Craig Santos Perez (from Guahan) are poets and professors who teach at the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa.

Winner of the 2014 Intro Prize in Poetry by Four Way Books for his first full-length collection The Taxidermist’s Cut (spring 2016), Rajiv Mohabir received fellowships from Voices of Our Nation’s Artist foundation, Kundiman, and the American Institute of Indian Studies language program. His poetry and

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translations are internationally published or forthcoming from journals such as Best American Poetry 2015, Prairie Schooner, Crab Orchard Review, Drunken Boat, Anti-, Great River Review, PANK, and Aufgabe. He received his MFA in poetry and translation from Queens College, CUNY, where he was editor in chief of the Ozone Park Literary Journal. Currently he is pursuing a PhD in English from the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa.

Jocelyn Ng, Harrison Ines, Malia Derden, and Sarah Daniels are Pacific Tongues adult facilitators and youth poets. They have represented the state of Hawaii on National Slam stages and actively try to spread spoken arts education throughout Oʻahu.

Jamaica Osorio and Noʻu Revilla were blessed to attend the Wansolwara Dance in Madang, PNG, in 2014, where they learned more about West Papua and the inspiring ways solidarity in Oceania can look/feel/live like. Mahalo, Wansolwara.

Jonathan Kay Kamakawiwoʻole Osorio is an activist and a full professor at the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa. Co-editor of The Value of Hawaiʻi: Knowing the Past and Shaping the Future and author of Dismembering Lāhui: A History of the Hawaiian Nation to 1887, he is an inspiring composer and singer. He has been a Hawaiian music-recording artist since 1975.

Culture Shocka (Justin Takaha White) is the only son of Mineko Takaha and Andrew White, born and raised on the island of Oʻahu in the mid-eighties. He uses a modern and minimalist-inspired approach to his visual art, mixing equal parts cartooning and graphic design. He tell stories that imagine alternate futures. He tells stories that honor the people and places of his past. And he tells stories to inspire anyone else on the journey of becoming an artist. For more of his work check out www.cultureshocka.com

Lyz Soto believes in decolonizing love and empowerment through community engagement and spoken arts education. She is co-founder of Pacific Tongues and long time mother of a generous and beautiful young man, who has taught her more than she has taught him. She is also a Ph.D. student in English at the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa.

~~

Contributing visual artists, including Anonymous, Luseane Raass, and Raymond Mulitalo, participated in the March 11, 2015, artists workshop. We are grateful to share their work with you in this collection.