The title of this page is a reference to the hapa haole hula, “Little Brown Gal” by Charles Kaipo.
One of my earliest memories is being dressed up in a Hawaiian costume and put in the middle of the stage at the Ming restaurant in Salt Lake City, Utah. I had been taught how to move my arms to the music the way my older sisters did as they performed their hula. I remember standing in the center of the stage, my four beautiful sisters dancing on all sides of me. The music loud, the bright lights blinding, the crowd of people filling the tables. I was scared to death, frozen, and unable to move.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like to dance. It was simply that I didn’t want to be seen. I was afraid. I have spent much of my life hiding, not wanting to be seen, not wanting to be heard, afraid to be known.
It has been the same with my writing. Here, I hope to share my story and the stories of my sisters’ lives; expressing the things they would have shared, if they could. These stories are taken from my memories and include the perspective from my eyes. I will share my experiences with them, the triumph and the tragedy and beauty of each of their lives. I also hope to share a bit of my journey and the struggle to find myself.
I cannot remember how old I was that first time on stage at the Ming. But I do have a second memory of another time. In costume once again, center stage, lights blinding, the music starting and my body moving. My arms following the same pattern as my sisters. I was dancing to the music with my sisters, the first of many more times to come. In fact, Polynesian dance was the substance of our lives, the reason we came together again, and again and again.
In that moment, I felt a sense of pride and gratitude welling up in my heart. I had done something terrifying and I experienced the satisfaction of achievement. I could feel the pride of my parents and my sisters. They told me I did a good job. I knew I had overcome something big. I felt it. To reinforce it, I was paid. It was incentive. I have no recollection of how much it was, a crisp bill that felt like a million bucks.
And so, I dedicate this site to my beloved sisters, who were and always will be, my inspiration.