Aloha. My debut novel, HULA, is not without controversy.

Initially, HULA was going to simply be a story about my home. What it became was a story that touched on all the complicated, painful details of what history has done to my beloved island chain. Similar to me, Hiʻi is light skinned, doesn’t look like her mother, and doesn’t have Native Hawaiian on her birth certificate. Unlike me, her mother does.

HULA explores a lot of sensitive issues, including the appropriation and commodification of Hawaiʻi’s culture and the theft of the Kingdom of Hawaii. When it came time to return a portion of Hawaiian land taken during the occupation, the USA defined Native Hawaiians using blood quantum – something they had utilized as a subtractive tool of disenfranchisement towards the native peoples of North America. The book confronts how reductive and harmful blood quantum laws are to all Hawai’iʻs communities who have resided there for generations, native or not, and how those laws were an American colonial project that have disenfranchised many peoples for years.

It is possible I am Native Hawaiian. But because of poor records and interpretations of what it meant to claim Hawaiian blood years ago, I do not know. In Hawai’i, ethnicity is referred to in terms of “how much,” aka your blood quantum. “I’m half this, a quarter that,” etc. My grandfather always insisted we were, that it had gotten left off the birth certificates at some point because it was a “small” amount. But I wouldn’t have dared assert that we were, not without the ability to prove it. I am in the process of researching my family lineage and have identified a great-great-great grandmother born in Halaula, North Kohala, on Hawaiʻi Island. I am hopeful to continue this exploration of personal discovery and family history, but even if that search never produces anything definitive, at the end of the day, it was impossible to have been born and raised in Hilo at the time I was, within the community I was, in close proximity to some of Hawai’i’s most remarkable cultural and political leaders, without also being instilled with a deep sense of pride and responsibility. Ultimately, HULA is my contribution to my community and to the land that gave me life.

As vulnerable and uncomfortable as it was to put HULA out into the world, I hope this book inspires many thoughtful and overdue conversations. Hiʻi’s story is interwoven with a story told by a collective voice, capturing the spirit of what it is to be part of Hilo – a chorus of residents, ancestors, gods and goddesses, those who would have been subjects of the Hawaiian Kingdom who weren’t Native Hawaiian, Native Hawaiians, those fighting for sovereignty, and those fighting for their rights within the framework of being America’s fiftieth state. Ultimately, it is a story written as a love letter to my hometown, albeit a complicated one. A celebration of all it is and has been.

I am always open to discuss the many issues and concerns HULA addresses - whether it be joining your book club for a discussion or something more personal, I welcome you to reach out.

                                                                    Mahalo,

                                                                        Jasmin Iolani Hakes