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A Modern Twist on a 19th-Century Classic

 

A Modern Twist on a 19th-Century Classic: Les Misérables on MASTERPIECE

April program guide cover story by Jody Shiroma, PBS Hawai‘i

 

The story unfolds with Jean Valjean, a worn-out convict who cannot seem to break free from his life of crime, until a simple act of kindness changes his life for the better as he chooses to “pay it forward” by committing to save a young girl from a life of poverty.

 

Les Misérables: David Oyelowo as Javert, Dominic West as Jean ValjeanWhile you have probably heard of Les Misérables, or have seen the musical or the film of the musical, the dramatic interpretation of this classic novel on MASTERPIECE takes a new twist. Viewers tuning into the series will see the same story told differently, in a modern take on this French classic, as the team behind this television adaptation is ignoring the famous songs and instead embracing speaking-only roles in an ethnically diverse cast sporting British accents in a French setting. The intent is to add a contemporary feel to the 150-year-old story.

 

The series features an esteemed ensemble of actors to bring the story to life. It stars Dominic West in the iconic role of ex-convict Jean Valjean, David Oyelowo as his nemesis Javert and Lily Collins as the destitute Fantine as key players in the amazing cast.

Les Misérables: Lily Collins as FantineThis television adaptation of Les Misérables brings the renowned classic by Victor Hugo vibrantly to life through colorful and fetching characters. Multi award-winning screenwriter Andrew Davies goes back to the original novel and digs deep into the many layers of Hugo’s story, taking viewers on a roller coaster ride through Jean Valjean and Javert’s cat-and-mouse relationship set against the epic backdrop of France at a time of civil unrest.

 

Les Misérables includes some of the most famous characters in European literature, and touches upon many of the same social problems that we face today – the struggle of poverty, crime and punishment, good vs. evil, social injustice and wrong vs. right.

 

Director Tom Shankland says: “Working with this incredible cast on Andrew Davies’ fantastic adaptation of Les Misérables, really is a dream come true. We want to capture the thrilling spirit of passion and protest in Victor Hugo’s novel and make it feel more relevant than ever. The conviction, intensity and authenticity that all of these actors bring to their work is going to be a massive part of making this story speak to audiences everywhere.”

Les Misérables on MASTERPIECE

Sundays at 8:00 pm
April 14 – May 19, 2019
on PBS Hawaiʻi
Watch a preview here

 
Les Misérables on Masterpiece

 

 

 

FINDING YOUR ROOTS
The Eye of the Beholder

FINDING YOUR ROOTS: The Eye of the Beholder, Alejandro G. Inarritu

 

Host Henry Louis Gates, Jr. shares the family histories of director Alejandro G. Inarritu, iconoclastic performance artist Marina Abramovic and painter Kehinde Wiley. These visionary artists find their identities challenged — and affirmed.

 

Preview

 

 

 

GREAT PERFORMANCES AT THE MET
La Traviata

GREAT PERFORMANCES AT THE MET: La Traviata

 

Michael Mayer’s new production follows courtesan Violetta Valéry, who knows she will die soon and wishes to leave her professional life for a chance at love. After meeting the charming Alfredo Germont at a party, the two begin a relationship and move to the country in an effort to enjoy their love away from society. A tumultuous visit from Alfredo’s father, the bourgeois Giorgio Germont, casts doubt in Violetta’s heart for the future of their relationship, causing her to abandon their love nest. After seeing Violetta on the arm of a baron, a jealous Alfredo must fight for his love and reunite with her before it is too late. Anita Rachvelishvili hosts.

 

Preview

 

 

 

IN FLIGHT: THE ART OF ICE DANCE
INTERNATIONAL GREAT PERFORMANCES

IN FLIGHT: THE ART OF ICE DANCE INTERNATIONAL GREAT PERFORMANCES

 

IN FLIGHT: THE ART OF ICE DANCE INTERNATIONAL captures the grace and artistry of ice dance, offering a front-row seat to a creative new American art form – a combination of figure skating and dance, unbound by the technical rules of competitive skating. Taped on location at an outdoor ice rink in Sun Valley, Idaho, this dynamic performance special features top skating talent from Ice Dance International (IDI), a ballet company on ice. The program, hosted by IDI artistic director Douglas Webster, showcases six contemporary and classic ice dances arranged by some of today’s most successful ice dance choreographers. It also features interviews with top names from the world of ice skating and dance, including Edward Villella, one of America’s most celebrated male ballet dancers; Judy Blumberg, U.S. Olympian and five-time U.S. ice dance champion; and Jojo Starbuck, two-time Olympian and three-time U.S. pair skating champion.

 

 

 

LONG STORY SHORT WITH LESLIE WILCOX
Mahealani Wendt

LONG STORY SHORT WITH LESLIE WILCOX: Mahealani Wendt

 

Growing up in the crowded, rundown tenements of downtown Honolulu, Mahealani Wendt witnessed the poverty of the Native Hawaiian people around her. That ignited a passion to help, and she spent more than three decades fighting for Hawaiian rights, with a long run as the Executive Director of the Native Hawaiian Legal Corporation in Honolulu. Today she lives in Hāna, Maui, and is a poet and author.

 

Program

 

More from Mahealani Wendt:

 

“Righteous Cause”

 

Hawaiian Homeland

 

This program will be rebroadcast on Sunday, March 24, at 4:00 pm and 11:30 pm.

 

Mahealani Wendt Audio

 

Download the Transcript

 

Transcript

 

When I went to Native Hawaiian Legal Corporation, I’m not sure that the most effective thing I could do there was as an attorney.  I worked as a volunteer, I worked as a grants writer.  I knew nothing about writing grants.  You know, a lot of times, you’re fueled just by passion, and you have so much … I don’t know how else to put it.  You know, you just feel so, so intensely about something, and it drives you, and you do everything you have to do to make it happen.  And that’s how I became a grants writer.

 

Her success as a volunteer grant writer led to a thirty-two-year career fighting for Native Hawaiian rights.  Mahealani Wendt of Maui, next, on Long Story Short.

 

One-on-one engaging conversations with some of Hawai‘i’s most intriguing people: Long Story Short with Leslie Wilcox.

 

Aloha mai kākou.  I’m Leslie Wilcox.  Mahealani Wendt is the retired executive director of the Native Hawaiian Legal Corporation, a community activist, accomplished writer, and poet.  She’s the eldest of seven children, grew up on Kaua‘i and O‘ahu, and now lives on farmland on Maui in Wailua Nui along Hāna Highway.  She knew from the time she was nine years old, living in the rundown tenements of Downtown Honolulu, that she wanted to help others.  She was deeply affected by the poverty of Native Hawaiian people she saw around her, and despite being poor herself, she says she was raised in a loving, nurturing environment, and never went hungry.  In childhood, she developed a love of writing and reading.

 

My father is Spanish; he’s second generation.  My grandparents emigrated from Spain in 1906.  They were plantation workers, the first sugar plantation in Hawai‘i, Kōloa Sugar. And so, they settled on Kaua‘i. And eventually, he met my mother, who’s from Hilo; she’s Hawaiian.  And we grew up on Kaua‘i there.  It was very beautiful, very country.  We had horses, cows, pigs, chickens, raised every kind of, you know, fruit tree, we had a garden. We were cray fishing, climbing trees; all this stuff we did, it was beautiful.  My parents separated.  You know, we were pretty innocent; we never understood what happened.  We just knew that one day, my mother decided that we were going to move, and she brought us to Honolulu.  It was a really different lifestyle.  You know, it was kind of an idyllic life, country life, and we moved to the heart of Honolulu, to the tenements.  And I still remember our address; it was 1278 Fort Street.

 

Fort Street.

 

Yeah; Fort Street, and there were twenty-seven steps going up to the second floor where we lived.

 

This was an old, beat-up building.

 

Yeah; it was the heart of the slums, the tenements in Honolulu.  This was in the 50s, mid-50s, and these tenement buildings, the closest thing that would kind of resemble it would be the buildings in Chinatown.  Those are far more well-maintained than the ones we lived in.  The buildings we lived, I’m now understanding, they were at least fifty years old.  They were wooden, they were termite-eaten.  They were firetraps, basically, you know, not fit for people to live in, but we lived there.  My mother, when she left, you know, didn’t have really the means to support all of us, and so … that’s where we lived.  Some slept on the bed, some slept on the floor.  We had, I think, three showers, cold water.

 

On that floor?

 

In the building.

 

In the whole building?

 

Everybody shared.

 

And how many people were in the building?

 

There were fifty-two rooms. There were three areas where we could do our cooking.  There were kerosene stoves.

 

Was it dangerous?  I mean, I know from a fire standpoint, it was dangerous.  What about from a human standpoint in a rough part of town.

 

It was a rough part of town. From my standpoint, I never saw any danger, I never experienced any danger.  It was a new world; I thought it was really kind of cool and exciting. New kids to play with, new people to meet, new aunties and uncles.  All Hawaiians in that building.  You know, in the same way they do now, the aunties take care.  So, we felt very protected and free, and I never felt any danger.  If you were entering from the sidewalk, you know, there were these narrow steps that went to the second floor.  And the pool hall was downstairs, next to a Chinese restaurant, next to a grocery store, next to, you know, all these different kinds of—

 

So, it felt like a neighborhood to you.

 

It did; totally.

 

No creepy people hanging around.

 

I never remembered any creepy people.

 

You know.  And I mean, when I think back on it, I think: Wow, it would be like, you would think there would be creepy people, but in my child’s eyes, I never saw creepy people.  To me, they were really nice; nice people.

 

And you felt adults were looking out for you, too.

 

Yes, we did; we felt very protected.

 

I wonder how your mom felt with seven kids to take care of.

 

We owned our own home on Kaua‘i. My grandparents homesteaded twenty-five acres there, and you know, the lands are still there.  So, you know, what caused her to feel so compelled to move, we never understood.  I never even understood it as an adult.  But there we were.  It must have been very stressful; we were really poor.  I sold newspapers.  I thought that was really cool, ‘cause I could have spending money, you know, and stuff. I was selling newspapers.  My corner was Fort and Kukui, and I sold the Honolulu Advertiser.  I sold forty papers, made a dollar.  And then, that was my lunch money.  I made most of my money from tips, ‘cause I was so young.  You know, I was like, nine years old, standing on the corner with newspapers.  Oh, poor thing, you know.  So, they’d give me a dollar.  Wow, that’s a lot of money.  That’s what I would make for the whole, you know, selling forty papers.  So … I thought it was great.

 

M-hm.

Again, the perspective.  You know, as a child, I was innocent.  I saw all of it as a great excitement.  It was just a different thing, you know.  I mean, one thing, for example, when we lived in Kauai, the store was really far.  You know. When we moved to Honolulu, the store was downstairs.

 

It was amazing.  I was just like, enthralled, you know.  When I lived on Kaua‘i, we’d go to the movies once, you know, every six months or something.  When we went to Honolulu, we lived next to the theater.  You know.  So, that’s how I saw it from a child’s sort of sense of wonder.  It wasn’t until I was, you know, older, maybe intermediate school, I sort of kinda understood that we were really poor.  And then, as I got older, I realized that, you know, the auntie that, you know, was so sick, and da-da-da, this is why.  And then, I realized that, you know, so-and-so, that you know, we really thought was really a cool guy, he’s in jail because he did this.  You know, so I had a sense of perspective, but it was afterwards.

 

After the fact.

 

Yes.

 

Did you ever connect with your father again?

 

Yes.  We saw him as we could afford to.  I think he would send money and, you know, we’d go.  But it wasn’t very often.  And he came to visit us once.  You know, he was not a Honolulu man; he was a hunter, a fisherman.  He would come back from the mountains with, you know, these burlap bags full of ‘o‘opu to feed our family.  You know, very subsistence lifestyle.  When he worked, he worked as a heavy equipment operator, kind of a laborer.  I loved my dad.  Both of my parents read to us.  My father would put us on his lap and read.  You know, those experiences.  I came to really love literature and reading from both parents.  My parents were very good parents, in spite of the separation. And my mother was very strict; she taught us very fundamental values, and we were expected to, you know, adhere to them.  And if we did not, the punishment was swift and sure.  All of the kids turned out good.  I went to Royal School.

 

Royal School.

 

Yeah.

 

Okay; elementary.  And then?

 

I went to Royal Elementary, and then I went to Central Intermediate.

 

And then?

 

And then, I went to Kamehameha in my sophomore year.  I liked public school.  Public school was awesome; I learned a lot.  You know, again, the common theme of, you know, this love of literature, that was more than reinforced in the public school.  In fact, at Kalaheo Elementary, where I went to, you know, from first to third grade, my second grade teacher, Mrs. Robello, encouraged me when I wrote a little poem for my mother.  You know how teachers do.  It’s so important.  She took my little poem, she put it on the wall.  You know how teachers, you can encourage by telling everybody, you know. And when her students would make a little picture, she’d put that on the wall.  So, she had ways of encouraging and making you feel: Ho, this is something I can do.

 

How long were you in the tenements?

 

Well, we lived in Honolulu for three years.  There was a terrible fire in the tenement next door.

 

Another wooden building?

 

It was a wooden building; it was right next to ours on the next block, and it burned down.  And four people died in that fire.  One of the ones who passed was a three-year-old who was my brother’s playmate.  And so, it really affected everybody, the family.  It really had an impact on me.  And it was just … I don’t know; I’ll never forget it.  We stood out there and watched this whole thing happen.

 

And watched it burn down.

 

Yes.  We lived there until my mother could find someplace else she could afford.  So, we moved close to Queen’s Hospital; same sort of building, but not as big.  We lived there for another, like, three or four years, and then we moved, and we actually moved to a much nicer place. Things were getting better; you know, Mom could find work, and so, we moved to a much better place.

 

How formative was the experience of living in places like that, those two different buildings and the fire that took your acquaintances and friends?

 

I know that it has everything to do with my community advocacy work, especially on behalf of Hawaiians.  The people who made a difference in our lives when we were growing up were the social workers who reached out to us. They were so kind.  They were so kind to my mother.  And I grew up feeling that I wanted to be a social worker.  I changed my mind when I realized I didn’t have the fortitude.  I saw what they had to deal with.  And I’m a little bit emotional; I have a really hard time focusing, you know, when I see that.  I got older, I guess I gained a perspective.  As a child, I didn’t really understand what that environment was all about.

 

Yeah; you thought they were nice people.

 

I thought everybody was nice.

 

But they were carrying all this pain, I suppose—

 

Yes.

 

–that they saw.

 

M-hm.  And as I got much older, and we learned our history and, you know, the displacement, I started focusing on Hawaiians.  It happened kind of gradually.  I was, you know, someone who was intent on a social work profession, but I also had competing things that I was really interested in.  The literature thing was always an interest.

 

After graduating from Kamehameha Schools, Mahealani Wendt went to work for big corporations, first on the continent, and then back home in Hawai‘i.  She was good at what she did, but her heart was not in the corporate world.

 

Right out of high school, I lived in Texas.  And while I was in Texas, I worked for a very large insurance company, a national insurance company, and I learned a lot about corporate business.  And so, I worked there for five years, I worked my way up.  Then I came home to Hawaiʻi.  I worked for a local corporation called Crown Corporation.  They had a bunch of industrial loan banks, they had securities firm, they had insurance. You know, I mean, some of the companies are still around; a lot of them are no longer.  But you know, they were real estate developers; all of that.  I was into that.  And I was like an admin assistant to vice president.  So, I did that.  And then, I went to college.

 

That was good preparation.

 

Yeah, it was good preparation. But interestingly, I started doing the community activism, you know, the demonstrations and stuff when I was still working for this corporation.  And my boss, who was a vice president, said: Just don’t let me see you arrested, or on TV. You know, something like that.  I said: I’ll be fine.

 

You know, so I always like, had these two like, sort of identities there.  I would be this corporate thing at work, and then, you know, uh, the rest of the time, I’d be … and then, I decided I needed to go to school, because I needed skills to do the thing I wanted, which is [SIGH] effectuate social reform.  Working for business was really a survival thing for me.  I had good skills, I had good typing, accounting; those sort of things. I had skills that I could market very readily in the business environment, so that’s where I went.  But that’s not where my heart was.

 

So, you’re taking political science now at the UH.

 

M-hm.  I’m taking political science, and I have an opportunity to do an internship with Legal Aid Society, along with thirty other interns, students at UH Mānoa, political science majors.  And we’re placed at the Legal Aid Society of Hawai‘i at a time when, you know, we were coming into a growth of social programs, social economic programs in our community.  So, there was this quantum leap in legal services available to the community through Legal Aid.

 

Because there was more funding.

 

There was more funding.

 

More value placed on that.

 

Yes.  I chose to go with the so-called land unit at the time.  And in the course of my internship, I was assigned to work with community organizations in the Hawaiian community. And that sort of was a catalyst for my future work.  I attended law school, I left law school.  I was very active in the community.  I mean, actually coming into this kind of work, the genesis of it was community activism.  So, the early so-called land struggles—Kalama Valley, Kokua Kalama, He‘eia Kea, Waiāhole-Waikāne, Niumalu-Nāwiliwili on Kaua‘i, Mokauea Island—all of those struggles, I was there.  I was there. I was not there as a leader; I was there as someone who felt compelled to be there.  I really related to what the people were suffering, and I felt I had to be there.  It’s a combination of that activism and my experience at the Legal Aid Society leading me to Native Hawaiian Legal Corporation.  You know, it’s kinda like all boiled into the picture.

 

Why did you leave law school after college?

 

Well, I had children.  At that time, I was a single parent.  That was part of it; it was the economics of it. You know, when I went to Native Hawaiian Legal Corporation, I’m not sure that the most effective thing I could do there was as an attorney.  I found my niche was really talking to the staff about community; how community felt, you know, what was important.  Because sometimes the rigor of legal linear thinking separates you from community. And I think you need both.  So, I think it would have been fine to go through law school, but at that point in my life, I felt I would be more useful in bringing that perspective to the firm.  And I think that it worked really well.

 

And you worked your way up to heading the office; you ran the office.

 

Yeah.  So, the first position was an interim attorney who agreed to come over from private practice to sort of get us started.  The second was Melody MacKenzie.  Then after, I think, a year or two, the first gentleman moved on back to private practice after kinda mentoring us.  I became the third staff person.  And Melody MacKinzie was my boss for, I don’t know, maybe six, seven years. And she taught me so much.  I just owe her a great debt of gratitude.  She’s the kindest, the most brilliant mentor a person could have.  I mean, I just love her; I love her to this day.  She was the executive director, but I guess she was kind of, you know, having to do a lot of this admin stuff.  And it just seemed more efficient to have me do the administrative part, you know, deal with personnel hiring, firing, that sort of thing.  ‘Cause I had a background in it.  Melody has those skills, but she’s also brilliant; a brilliant jurist, a brilliant scholar.  You know, I mean, talking story as a staff, and it just seemed like, you know, a more sensible way to go.  And so, I guess in name, you know, I became the head of the organization, and then she could focus on cases and clients, you know, and I could just deal with the other stuff.

 

You did that for a long time.

 

M-hm.  Well, I retired after thirty-two years.  So, yes, I did it a long time.  It was fun.  I loved it.

 

What kinds of cases did your firm handle?

 

Well, our cases were all Native rights cases.  So, you know, they’re kind of characterized as the things that we require in order to be Hawaiian.  Hawaiians were being affected with respect to land tenure, their ability to hold onto their lands, ability to hold onto their natural resources, have access to it, ability to engage in traditional and customary practices that they require to be Hawaiian.  If their access to the ocean is cut off, then they can’t go fish, they cannot gather limu; these kinds of things.  The ability to exercise practices relating to their traditional religion, things that would impede it, ability to access their trusts, the Hawaiian Homelands trusts or the public lands trusts.  All of those things became our areas of focus.  We had genealogists on staff, we had title people on staff.  We had Hawaiian translators on staff, because we’re dealing a lot with archival documents, many of which are only in Hawaiian. So, we had people on staff who specialized in translating legal documents.  So, the shop is a specialty shop, you know, asserting the rights of native people.  And we did well.  There were many cases that we did, that I’m very proud of.

 

That was a very … just vibrant time, and also, it was a time of people coming into age and being very proud, and also running into a lot of walls, too.

 

Yes; yes.  And I think with knowledge comes power.  You know, and the more we’re able to understand our history—and of course, language is a window into culture, the more we understand our language the more we understand better who we are.  Part of that is having, you know, connection to land, connection to water, connection to ocean, continuing to keep traditional practice vibrant and alive. All of those things are important. And you know, ultimately, it’s about values.  And as many other peoples, including indigenous peoples, those values are really important, not only for us here as a people in Hawaii, and not only for all of Hawai‘i, but even globally.  You know, you join with other peoples.  There are certain values that are universally exalted as being life-affirming and necessary in order for, you know, humankind to thrive.  We can make a contribution, and it’s really, really important that we be allowed to be a people.

 

Why do we do this?  We do this because we love Hawai‘i.

 

A&B doesn’t own the water, the taro farmers do not own the water.  Our people own the water.  Ke Akua owns the water.

 

Ae!

 

Ae!

 

Ke Akua owns the water.

 

Ae!

 

For all of us.

 

So, let our people live, and let the ‘aina live, forever. [INDISTINCT]  Stand up so that we can make that happen.

 

Mahealani Wendt met her husband, Ed Wendt, through her work in native water rights.  He’s a taro farmer with kuleana land.  Where they live in Wailua Nui, in Maui’s Hana District, is beautiful, but as always, farming kalo is hard work.  Besides her passion for justice, Mahealani Wendt has always had a love for poetry and writing.  Even as head of the Native Hawaiian Legal Corporation, she found time to write, and has received numerous literary awards, both nationally and internationally. We’re going to close now with a reading from one of her poems that reflects back on her childhood.  Mahalo to Mahealani Wendt of Wailua Nui, Maui, for sharing her life story with us, and mahalo to you for joining us.  For PBS Hawai‘i and Long Story Short, I’m Leslie Wilcox.  Aloha nui.

 

For audio and written transcripts of all episodes of Long Story Short with Leslie Wilcox, visit PBSHawaii.org.  To download free podcasts of Long Story Short with Leslie Wilcox, go to the Apple iTunes Store or visit PBSHawaii.org.

 

At statehood, we trundled kerosene tankards over rutted Honolulu sidewalks, past beer halls, pool halls, taxi dancehalls, past honky-tonk dives, juke joints, and shoeshine stands, to rooming house kitchens where we lit our communal fires and kept vigil for the one day our nation would be restored.  The torches burned bright as we stood watch.  Our children, listless on tenement floors, their coverings prickling with insect filth, and the grit of ambient sounds, incessant scuttlings and winged scurryings inside squalid floors and walls, we sensed a slow collapse under the terrific weight of a people whose gods kept watch with them there. The minions of forest, river, and ocean gods, companions in these root places whispering their encouragements as generations of children turn to hear, like flowers brightening to sun.

 

[END]

 

 

GREAT PERFORMANCES
The Cleveland Orchestra Centennial Celebration

GREAT PERFORMANCES: The Cleveland Orchestra Centennial Celebration

 

The Cleveland Orchestra is considered one of the world’s most highly regarded music ensembles. Led by music director Franz Welser-Möst, it will offer two concert performances of Richard Strauss’s “Daphne” on July 15th and 18th at Avery Fisher Hall. It will also perform two additional programs, featuring works by Messiaen, Dvorák, Beethoven, and Strauss, on July 16th and 17th at the same venue.

 

Preview

 

 

 

GREAT PERFORMANCES
Aida

GREAT PERFORMANCES: Aida

 

Watch Verdi’s grand opera featuring his most celebrated arias. Starring vocal powerhouses Anna Netrebko in the title role and Anita Rachvelishvili as Amneris as they go toe to toe in this love story set in ancient Egypt. Nicola Luisotti conducts.

 

Preview

 

 

 

GREAT PERFORMANCES
Harold Prince: The Director’s Life

GREAT PERFORMANCES: Harold Prince: The Director’s Life

 

Celebrate the extraordinary career of producer and director Harold Prince, winner of a record 21 Tony Awards. His six decades in the theater form a bridge from the “Golden Age” of Broadway’s mid-century to the contemporary theater of today.

 

Preview

 

 

 

GREAT PERFORMANCES
From Vienna: The New Year’s Celebration 2019

GREAT PERFORMANCES - From Vienna: The New Year’s Celebration 2019

 

Ring in the New Year with the Vienna Philharmonic under the baton of conductor Christian Thielemann at the Musikverein. The program is hosted by Hugh Bonneville and features favorite Strauss family waltzes accompanied by the dancing of the Vienna City Ballet.

 

Preview

 

 

 

LONG STORY SHORT WITH LESLIE WILCOX
Ulalia Woodside

 

As the daughter of a wildlife biologist father and kumu hula mother, Ulalia Woodside’s passion for the natural world was rooted in her since childhood. This early passion blossomed into a career in protecting Hawai‘i’s diverse natural resources. She is now Executive Director of The Nature Conservancy of Hawai‘i.

 

This program will be rebroadcast on Sunday, Dec. 30, at 4:00 pm and 11:30 pm.

 

Ulalia Woodside Audio

 

Download the Transcript

 

Transcript

 

And we are, aren’t we, the state that has the most quickly-disappearing species.

 

We continue to be an endangered species capital.  The Bishop Museum, not that long ago, had an exhibit on feather work and Hawaiian birds, and they also had a timeline up on the wall of when birds went extinct.  And … it brought tears to my eyes to stand there, and to look at when I was born, and I don’t remember the number of birds, and to see the number of birds that had gone extinct in my life.  That was hard to look at.

 

She grew up tagging along with her father as he worked on nature preserves.  And now, she is protecting many of those special places of Hawaii. Ulalia Woodside, next, on Long Story Short.

 

One-on-one engaging conversations with some of Hawai‘i’s most intriguing people: Long Story Short with Leslie Wilcox.

 

Aloha mai kākou. I’m Leslie Wilcox.  Ulalia Woodside has dedicated her career to managing and protecting the lands and other natural resources of Hawaii. She’s also a kumu hula with a deep connection to the Hawaiian culture.  In 2016, Woodside became the executive director of the Nature Conservancy of Hawaii, overseeing forty thousand acres of preservation areas, not only Hawaii, but as far away as Palmyra Atoll, which is a thousand miles south of the Hawaiian Islands.  Her love of the land and her culture came to her early and easily, taught by example by her parents.  Her mother, Leiana Woodside, was a kumu hula and curator at the Queen Emma Summer Palace, and her father, David Woodside, was a wildlife biologist and naturalist.

 

I was very fortunate to be born and raised in Waimānalo.  I think I had a unique upbringing.  My parents had me a little later in life.  My mother was forty-four when she had me, my father was forty-six.  Now, that’s nothing, but back in the day, that was considered late.  You know, my mother was born and raised in a Hawaiian lifeway.  Her mother, and her mother before her, they had this vision of what it means to be a Hawaiian woman.  And in our family, my grandmother embodied that.  She embodied what it meant to be a Hawaiian woman, or this image of Haumea, the goddess, the deity, that energy that is the life source of creation and of birth.  That Haumea takes many forms.

 

What was your grandmother’s name?

 

My grandmother was Ida Pakulani Kaaihue Kaianui.  And you know, she was born in 1888, and she passed away in, I think it’s 1974 or 1976.

 

So, born during the days of the monarchy, and died after all the cultural unrest of America.

 

And statehood; right.

 

And after Hawaii’s statehood; yes.

 

Yes; until statehood.  So, you’re exactly right.  And because my mother is the youngest daughter of fifteen children—she’s number thirteen, and my mother has me at forty-four, what this means is, I have this really short linkage back to 1888, in a way; right?  And so, our family traditions really compact in these two generations, is the way that I was raised.  And I think that’s quite unique.  It made it challenging going to school at times.  You know, your parents are listening to Frank Sinatra, and your friends’ parents are listening to, you know, the Beatles or, you know, Neil Diamond, or something a little bit more contemporary, and we didn’t have a television when I grew up.  My mother wanted to have a yard that had Hawaiian plants in it.  She wanted a loi, so right there on the beach in Waimanalo, my father created a loi for her.  So, I grew up working in the loi there in Waimānalo.  We went fishing.  My father and I would lay net back in the days when, you know, you still could lay net. In my community, there weren’t a lot of children my age, so I went to work with my parents, I went to board meetings with my parents.  I went to Audubon Society Christmas bird counts with my father from a young age. I guess it’s a shift in how we raise our families nowadays.  My parents didn’t spend their days taking me to my activities, except hula.  You know, my upbringing was going with my mother as she would develop hula productions for State Foundation Culture and the Arts, or for the Aloha Week Festival.  And she would really have the leaders and the influencers of kumu hula, and they’d design these productions together.  My father would help with the staging and the plants.  And you know, those were the things that I needed to participate in.

 

Now, hula is very intensive, and if you’re passionate about it, you can’t have enough of it.  But there are some kids who say: Oh, no, do I have to go today again? What was your situation?

 

You know, I started dancing hula before I could remember.  I have pictures of me, very young, dancing hula.  And it was non-negotiable.

 

Nobody asked; right?

 

Nobody asked.

 

You just did it. 

 

And there was never gonna be a time when hula was not gonna be a part of my life. So, that connection with hula, that responsibility to hula, was there from the beginning, and will be there ‘til the end.  But it was not something that I could in any way step away from by choice.

 

But did you want to?

 

You want to, and then there was a lot of crying involved with hula.

 

Do I have to do that again, you mean?

 

And in that way, you know, when your grandmother—my grandmother was a kumu hula, my mother and two of her sisters were kumu hula, there’s an expectation of how you will perform.  And there’s an expectation of excellence, there’s an expectation that you will grasp quickly the dance or the chant that you need to learn.  And that wasn’t always the case, and sometimes I didn’t want to practice.  Sometimes I wanted to play, sometimes my feet didn’t do what they were supposed to do. But there are so many things that hula teaches you, and it’s something that has existed in my life.  You learn that you can do almost anything.  You can do things you might not want to do, and you can do them well.

 

Now, was your dad Hawaiian as well?

 

My father wasn’t Hawaiian.  But he was born and raised in Kapa‘au, Kohala on Hawai‘i Island, and his father came to Hawai‘i to be a part of the Kohala Mill system that they had.  So they had long roots here in Hawai‘i, but he wasn’t Hawaiian.  This was his homeland; it was the only homeland he knew. He loved this place, and he loved the values and the way of life these islands had created.  So, the forest and those plants created a relationship that we have with them, created this aloha ‘āina, this concept of mālama‘āina, this responsibility to place.  And he embraced that, and that was his career.  My father had spent the majority of his career and his life in remote places caring for Hawai‘i, caring for the natural resources, the forests, the birds.  And so, when they came together, they brought their two worlds together.

 

He let you tag along in his work, which was fascinating and beautiful, out in the outdoors and with the discipline of understanding the environment.  What was that like?  Where’d you go?  What’d you do?

 

I distinctly remember we went out to Mānana, Rabbit Island, right off of Waimānalo and there were rabbits on that island. And one of the things that my father did was spend a lot of time in remote places.  He went to Jarvis Atoll and Rose Atoll, he went up to the Northwest Hawaiian Islands, Tern Island, Nihoa, Necker, Mokumanamana, and he’d spend long time there.  And one of the things that he would do when he would go to places is he would eradicate small mammalian predators, or he’d eradicate things that were disrupting the natural system there; sometimes cats.  And on Rabbit Island, it was rabbits.  And so, it had been years when rabbits weren’t supposed to be on Mānana anymore, but we’d go there, and there’s a rabbit on the island.  And I remember my father getting the gun out.  And we were with a number of other of his adult wildlife friends, and they’re doing their thing.  We’re on a bird count, and we’re studying.  And I am jumping up and down: Run, rabbit, run, get away, get away, get away!

 

And you know, it … it was dispatched. My father dispatched that rabbit.  And then we cleaned it, he and I cleaned it, and then we ate it that night.  But I got to do these really interesting things with him.  And going to Mānana was one of those really transformational days. You have an ‘ewa‘ewa chick, sooty tern chick, just a puffball of fuzz in your hand.  Rob Shallenberger used to work with my father at the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, and he’s also a great photographer. And he took this picture of me, and you can just see in my face how excited I am to have this little puffball in my hand.

 

As a child, Ulalia Woodside yearned to be like her father, working in the field and watching out for nature.  And that’s the path she started on as a young adult. But she steered in new directions, finding other ways to help the lands and reefs of Hawaii.

 

My very first job was a place where my father worked for a number of years, the Department of Land and Natural Resources.  The Land Division needed student help, a student helper position, so right out of high school, I think two months or so after I graduated, I started working for the Department of Land and Natural Resources.  And it was a tremendous experience.  I worked there all through my undergraduate years, until I got my bachelor’s degree.  And I learned about land tenure in Hawai‘i, I learned about state leases, I learned about shoreline issues, I learned about long tenured families that have long deeds that go back to Kamehameha V.

 

Were you doing paperwork, or were you out in the field?

 

It evolved.  So, when was a student helper, I mostly made copies.  I also was a clerk typist for a period of time, and at that time, I got to see the leasing documents come through.

 

So, you were reading the documents as well as processing.

 

Right. You know, file them and understand them, different islands, the different issues that are going on.  And after I graduated from college with my bachelor’s degree, I worked there for a little bit of time as a land agent.

 

What does a land agent do?

 

So, at that time, I was helping process shoreline certifications.  So, people who would like to build or develop on coastal properties, you frequently need to identify where the shoreline is, because there are specific regulations about setback.  It really taught me a lot about, you know, how things happen.  It was an incredible growth period for me.

 

All while you’re going to college and learning.

 

All while I’m going to college.

 

What were you studying in college?

 

In college, I was studying political science.  And then, I also got a second degree in Hawaiian studies, and I got a certificate in Hawaiian language.  And so, at the time, with the political science, I was thinking of going to law school at the time.  And had some other friends that were in political science, and they were moving on to law school, but I was working, you know, with the state.

 

So far, you’re following a similar path to your father, but you’re taking it in a different direction, ‘cause you’re interested in the decision-making and the issues involving regulation.

 

At that time, I was, you know, I really was interested in that.  And shortly after I finished high school, the State of Hawai‘i workforce went through a really large reduction in force.  And so, I had only been now in my permanent land agent position, was the bottom of the rung position for just a couple of years.  Not even two years, I think.  And so, there was somebody else with greater seniority than I did, and so with that reduction in force …

 

You got bumped.

 

I got bumped.  I got bumped out of that position.  And you know, if that hadn’t happened, I do think about, would I still be working at the Department of Land and Natural Resources today if that hadn’t happened?

 

After losing her position with the Department of Land and Natural Resources, Ulalia Woodside entered graduate school at the University of Hawaii to study urban and regional planning.  From there, she took a new job in the private sector, where her interests expanded beyond land management and conservation and into cultural preservation.

 

And then, I went to a private planning and engineering firm that worked with the Department of Transportation to repair highways or build big highways, and you know, DOT Airports, and you know, had to go out to the community of Keaukaha and talk about the runway that’s next door, to speak to people who want to build industrial parks in areas, and large resort developments, and golf courses.  And so, seeing that side of the equation gave me another level of understanding of our lands here, how decisions are made, why we see that building where we see it. And it was a hard time.  When was working there, the requirement for a cultural impact assessment became law.  And prior to that, it wasn’t a requirement.  Being able to be a part on that front edge of trying to put this into place, and going out and speaking to people of place, and gathering their stories, and then coming back and finding ways in which by incorporating what is about this place actually creates a project.

 

Why was it a hard phase?

 

It was a hard time because at times, you know, you’d sit across from somebody that had a piece of property, and you know, in the environmental review process, you do a biological assessment, you do an archaeological assessment.  You see all of these, all of these treasures that they have on their property.  And I remember sitting there, and I remember the gentleman looking at me and he said: I just want to cut it up and sell it.  And I, you know, was jazzed.  We had found, you know, this ‘ilima on the property, and this.  And it made me think about the other skills that we might need in those conversations. And it also made me think about how the energy within our community helps to shape the change of something. And what I mean by that is, that awareness of what you have on your property of natural resources and cultural resources, that’s also known by the community.  And that community can inspire a developer or a landowner to create something that is even better than what they may have had in mind in integrating and incorporating that unique plant that you found, or that portion of a trail that happens to come through their property.  And that really, really got me inspired.

 

In 2002, Ulalia Woodside joined Kamehameha Schools to work on āina-based educational programs, which ultimately changed how Kamehameha Schools and other Hawaii landowners managed their natural resources, including lands.

 

I was very fortunate at that time, as I was going through that work and starting to get itchy, to be able to be proactive.  And at that time, the Kamehameha Schools had gone through a redevelopment of their strategic plan in 2000, and their land division that managed their agriculture and conservation lands was revisiting how they manage those lands in line now with the new strategic plan that really saw those lands not as separate from the mission.

 

Not commodities, but part of who Kamehameha Schools is.

 

And also, a platform through which the mission could be achieved.

 

I see; with people.

 

With people, and with education.  I was very fortunate to be invited there by Neil Hannahs.  Enjoyed working with him for … almost fifteen years.  There was a kīpuka, there was this stronghold on Kaua‘i, and one of the first projects I got to work with was out in Waipā, Kaua‘i on the north shore of Kaua‘i with the Sproat family and the Mahuiki family at that time, and the Hawaiian farmers of Hanalei.  And they recognized the value in their ahupua‘a, and it had been used for, you know, ranching over the years.  But that community remembered the taro traditions, and they still raised kalo, and that’s what they felt was the abundance and the wealth of Waipā.  But they were talking to Kamehameha Schools, I think, in the 80s or so, and you know, it was at a time when Kamehameha Schools was actually considering putting in a development.

 

I remember that.

 

And they had to find a way to develop a use that would be productive on the lands, would recognize Kamehameha Schools’ needs, but also leave room for being proactive about the growing the community and also where we could be.  So, one of those great lessons, you know, I learned of my time there is, when you work for a perpetual organization that at that time had been around for a hundred and fifty years, you know, your spot is about this big on that spectrum.  You know, what are you gonna do in that spot on that spectrum, and are you gonna do some things that make it harder for those that come down the spectrum, or is what you’re doing keeping the door open, setting the table?  Is it creating an opportunity for those that are going to come after it?  And that’s what the Hawaiian farmers of Hanalei and those families did, is they found a way to be productive users of the land, create capacity within their community, and start to pilot and showcase what a thriving ahupua‘a looks like, with students and learning happening there, which then set the table for us to take that to a whole different place.

 

So, those were very important years for Kamehameha, and those decisions that were made.

 

Yeah.

 

In 2016, Ulalia Woodside was selected to be the executive director of the Nature Conservancy of Hawaii. Big job, overseeing the protection of nature preserves across the ridges and reefs of Hawaii, and in many of the same areas that her father helped to protect.

 

In working at Kamehmeha Schools, being able to think about this return on investment, and the changes that we were making to create this abundance in place, we had worked alongside the Nature Conservancy as partners across the table with the Hawai‘i Conservation Alliance, working together in developing management strategies. We frequently visited each other’s property to see how species were being managed, how they were thriving, to learn those lessons from each other.  And so, when there was the opportunity to join the Nature Conservancy, I valued the work that had been done there.  And also, you know, working at Kamehameha Schools, even when you work for the State, you’re carrying on a legacy.  And I really thought about the legacy of the Conservancy in Hawai‘i since 1980, and the change that they had brought to Hawai‘i, the idea, the concept that there are certain lands that are so special that we should set them aside, and we should protect those lands so that what’s unique about them gets preserved.  Now, at the Nature Conservancy, one of the places that we manage is Palmyra Atoll, a thousand miles south of Hawai‘i. I knew my father went to all of these atolls, but I came to learn that he was a part of the group that went out to Palmyra and identified the biological importance of that place, and integrity of that place, and was part of the effort to protect it, and to see the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service recognize that place as an important place that needs to be protected, and to help to encourage and work with the Nature Conservancy in order to set that place apart so that those rare species, those coconut crabs, the largest breeding colony of red-footed boobies in the world, that that continues to exist, a reef like no other.

 

It just seems like everything you’ve been through took you to this place, this job that you hold now.  Do you feel like that?

 

I think life finds its way.  And I do feel like I have stayed a course.  I have followed in the footsteps of my parents.  But I have evolved along the way.  I have been that Haumea and that shapeshifter that has moved along the way. I try to find places where I can be relevant, where I can help improve the condition of our world that we live in, that I can make connections between people and nature so that we might be inspired to have a home that is thriving along with us.  And I’ve been very, very fortunate to find people to spend time with and to find employers and places where I can work towards that mission, work towards that mission of ensuring that we have Island Earth, our earthly home, our earth home and our island home, our Pacific home thrives in that way.

 

Not an easy job.  And it takes constant management.

 

It’s not an easy job.  It takes constant management.  But if we come back to hula … it is about the collective, and it is about recognizing that together, we produce something that is amazing.

 

Ulalia Woodside says she’ll continue to use valuable insights from her hula experience to bring together different people and organizations, and preserve and protect the natural resources of Hawaii and beyond.  Mahalo to Ulalia Woodside of Waimanalo, Oahu.  And thank you, for joining us for this edition of Long Story Short on PBS Hawaii.  I’m Leslie Wilcox.  Aloha nui.

 

For audio and written transcripts of all episodes of Long Story Short with Leslie Wilcox, visit PBSHawaii.org.  To download free podcasts of Long Story Short with Leslie Wilcox, go to the Apple iTunes Store or visit PBSHawaii.org.

 

So, between regular school and summer school, I would go with him to work.  And he was managing Ki‘i Refuge.  Now it’s known as James Campbell Refuge out in Kahuku.  California grass would grow very, very quickly, so driving the tractor and mowing the berms, and keeping the grass down was one of my responsibilities.

 

 

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