Day 1
People asked me, How was it in there? What are the inmates like?
This is something I've been wanting to do for years because I believe that Kōnane could help in the areas of rehabilitation and diversion with our family and friends who have lost their way. This is my chance, and I don't want to mess it up.
About two weeks before, I conducted a workshop for an organization that supports abused women, and I wanted to redesign my workshop to incorporate more patterns so that my students would start recognizing them. Everybody asks me, "What's the strategy?" But if you like to be successful in Kōnane, it's about recognizing patterns and understanding those patterns. Our Kūpuna were great observers and understood patterns. Patterns are consistent in Kōnane and occur in every match. Recognizing the patterns that can hurt you quickly and adjusting your play to counter them can make all the difference, whether you're successful or not.
For our Pa`ahao, Kōnane helps reconnect them to their culture and roots, allowing them to understand where their ancestors came from and how those kūpuna behaved in the past. This legacy of the past makes them who they are. Sometimes people can forget where they come from, and I want Kōnane to help bring them back to where they belong.
Luckily, Chaminade University contacted me. They wanted to add a Hawaiian culture activity to their Prison Education Program, and you know how it is. They asked someone who had spoken to someone else who knew someone who knew me.
When I received the introduction email, I jumped at the opportunity—knowing that this might be my only chance.
After weeks of filling out forms and undergoing background checks, I got approved for two days. We came up with a schedule, booked my flights, arrived at the Hālawa Correctional Facility parking lot, and were ready to enter a world I had only seen in movies or on the news.
I've never been incarcerated or know of anyone close to me who has, so this is my first time in this environment.
Entering the prison is similar to the TSA at the airport, but there are numerous rules about what you can and cannot bring in. All I have is a clear plastic backpack, which is too small for me to wear. I also have ten Holoholo papamū with plastic bottle caps for `ili `ili, because no can take marbles. I have a plastic bottle of water, an Aloha Shirt, long pants, and close-toed shoes that I brought specially for this event.
I was fortunate to have a team from Windward Community College, which also offers educational programs, at check-in to escort me to the Learning Center. I track my route the best I can through the security maze in case of a lockdown, so that I can find my way out. You know, watching too many Hollywood movies.
I arrive at the central area and see what I've seen on TV. That long walkway with modules on both sides. I start that long walk with a slight incline to the Learning Center.
Brah, Hālawa is a hot area situated between the H-3 and a dry, brown brush hill at the end of a dusty road.
I meet up with Rylie, and we set up the room, and then we wait.
Time is different inside. It's hard to describe. It moves, yet it stands still. There are two ways to spell Wait. Weight and wait; both apply here. The weight of the tension of the unknown. Waiting is the way it is here.
They all show up at the same time, eager to try something new. About sixteen of them rush to open seats and pair up as the Papamū lay on the tables, ready to go.
I completed my classic workshop introduction and worked my way through my PowerPoint presentation. One thing I appreciate about my presentation is that it focuses on engaging with the audience through discussion and interaction. There is a lot of playtime, and these guys are not only catching on but also excelling on the typical learning curve that I'm not used to with my other students.
****The one focus that I tried to drive in this presentation is that Kōnane is about patterns. You must analyze the situation before making your move. Then you've got to come up with an action plan and follow through. I discussed how using new skills learned on the papamū can be applied to life.
What connected me the best with them is that I'm a local bruddah just like them. I look like them, I speak like them, and I act like them. But I know that I'm not them. There is a level of respect in here, and I haven't earned it yet, and maybe never will. But as long as I don't act stupid, I should be alright.
Day 2
On the second day, I went to the Learning Center unescorted, which is somewhat distant from the admin building. I could feel the eyes upon me from both the Pa`ahao and guards, who were watching me because, as I walked, a group playing basketball in a lower area stopped their game for a moment. I assume the word spreads fast in this place.
Today is tournament day. I like my students doing a tournament as part of their Ho'ike. At least that was my plan. I'll assume there is a lot of "Change in plans" in here.
The Windward Community College team wanted their Game Development class to be included in our Chaminade University Kōnane Class.
So what we did was that Chaminade did their tournament. We wrote their names on a tournament bracket on the whiteboard, and they all took their positions and began playing. Da bruddahs was ready to play. They wasted no time getting down in Kōnane town. The tournament was very respectful. No grumbling or sly remarks. The ones who lost took it like men. As in all tournaments, winners advance to the next bracket, while losers play each other.
Then I taught the Windward guys how to play. Like the Chaminade guys, they caught on fast. Then they participated in their own tournament. As chaotic as it was, with half the room Chaminade and the other half Windward, these guys were really connected to the game and the spirit of competition.
Next thing I know, we're shaking hands with the semi-hug, chest bump as they move as a group to the next place they have to go. Just like that, the classroom is empty with only us civilians occupying the space.
Everybody else is smiling and talking about what just happened. They saw what I hoped would happen. Two different groups participated: one attended the Kōnane workshop, while the other learned Kōnane on the fly. However, everyone enjoyed the game.
The Windward staff are ecstatic about the game, and Rylie from Chaminade already knew it was a success. What if I take this to the next step? I believe that Hawaiian cultural activities, such as Kōnane, can help reconnect Pa'ahao to their Hawaiian roots. It is both educational and recreational, even for non-Hawaiians.
I took the long walk back to the admin building alone, feeling good. I pulled it off after years of waiting for this moment. I finally did it, and it worked out as I thought it would.
The comment I heard the most was "I like teach this game to my kids." That statement hits me hard. I can't imagine not playing with my kids and Mo'opuna. Things like this I take for granted. I get to walk out and play with my family.
I look forward to returning, but the planets must align once again for that to happen. My next mission is to get papamū inside so the Pa`ahao can play. If I cannot go back, at least they can still play.
When we go back to my opening line, "People asked me, How was it in there? What are the inmates like?"
The Pa`ahao are just like the bruddahs you hang with at the park. They made mistakes, and that's why they in there. Perhaps Kōnane can help them recognize those patterns that lead to trouble and make better moves towards their future, reconnecting them with their culture, family, and community.
I'm looking forward to spending two more days in Hālawa. I just have to wait for the next move......