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As told by Nelson Kiha Rodrigues, Former Kamaliʻi of Liliʻuokalani Trust

2024-09-03

You might recognize Nelson Kiha Rodrigues from his striking, 10-foot-tall portrait that graces the construction panel wrapped around Liliʻuokalani Center, scheduled to open in 2025 at the busy corner of Ward Avenue and King Street in Honolulu.

Rodrigues’ story is of hope and resilience.

Raised in Waiʻanae, he was an original member of Mua O Ulehawa, a boys’ group that developed honorable young men rooted in traditional Hawaiian values. The grassroots program, founded by community member Pōkiʻi Magallanes in his backyard over a decade ago, taught the boys ʻike kūpuna (knowledge of the ancestors), and other valuable lessons.

In 2013, Mua O Ulehawa joined forces with Kiaʻi ʻŌiwi O Kaʻala, a similar program for boys supported by Liliʻuokalani Trust (then called Queen Liliʻuokalani Children’s Center, or QLCC). The merger doubled the membership, but the original mission remained. Many grew up to become leaders in their communities and families.

Rodrigues is one such story.  

Reflecting on his childhood, Rodrigues is grateful for the opportunities provided by the Trust. “I never thought I would leave Waiʻanae as a kid because going to Pearl City was already foreign to me,” he muses.  

Rodrigues raises kamaliʻi of his own, a young son and daughter. He is an alakaʻi for the Trust’s West Oʻahu boys’ group, now called ‘Ōpūaliʻi Hekili, and is a supervisor at the Hawaiʻi Department of Education and a Hawaiian practitioner at Honolulu Community College.

We caught up with Rodrigues in the summer of 2024, where he graciously shared his moʻolelo and expressed aloha for the adult leaders of the Trust who guided him and his peers from trauma to thriving.

Here are excerpts from that conversation:

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As an original member of Mua O Ulehawa

Mua O Ulehawa (a young men’s group in Waiʻanae) started in Pōkiʻi’s backyard in 2013. I was intrigued and wanted to learn more about my Hawaiian culture. The Hawaiian classes I took at Nānākuli High School were not at the level Pōkiʻi came from.

Every Thursday after school, I would walk from my house to Pōkiʻi’s house, which is 3 miles. Practice was from 4:30 p.m. until 7 or 8 at night. It was us five boys. The five of us definitely changed from that moment in our lives.

Pōki’i trained us from the grassroots. He taught us discipline, the traditional way our kūpuna did it. The things we did were not just the haka or haʻa, or chants. He took us on trips, where we had to do protocol and participate in blessings and ceremonies.

We needed that discipline. We were taught not just to do, but to have respect for all kūpuna. We participated in heavier moments, like returning kūpuna ʻiwi. That level of participation, Pōkiʻi put us in.

When Mua O Ulehawa merged with the Trust’s Kiaʻi ʻŌiwi O Kaʻala

Uncle Lyle Kaloi and Uncle Makalauna [Feliciano] were already running the mua program for the Queen’s Trust [in 2013 when they joined forces with Mua O Ulehawa].

The Trust’s group had 12 kids. Pōkiʻi’s group had four kids, ages 11 to 16, then us four older boys who were just finishing up high school. It was a dynamic Hale Mua. We had haumāna, alakaʻi, kūpuna, kūmu, all these different dynamics from different parts of life.

How he navigated his brother’s suicide   

The younger boys were part of the Queen Liliʻuokalani Children’s Center for orphan and destitute kids, now called Liliʻuokalani Trust. A lot of these boys were part of the mua because they lost a loved one. Aunty Sharon Ehia, Aunty Sonny Makua, Uncle Pōki’i, Uncle Lyle, and Uncle Maka worked with them, and it was inspiring to watch these kids grow.

These younger boys were able to talk about what happened in their lives, share how they were feeling, be open, and allow themselves to be vulnerable. For young men, that’s probably the hardest thing in the world. 

Working with them [after I graduated high school] helped me when I lost my brother to suicide. I learned the steps to understanding how to grieve, move on, and grow. It wasn’t just the support I received, but watching how individual kids went through their grieving process taught me how to take care of myself, mālama myself, and be there for my family. I was pono with how everything went, with my brother’s passing.

When he represented the Trust in front of a global audience

I was barely 22 years old as an Opportunity Youth, helping out the Trust as one of their alakaʻi. We went to New Zealand, Aotearoa, for a conference called ʻHealing Our Spirit Worldwide.’

There was a sub-conference for the young adults, 300 of us from the Pacific and from around the world. They asked me to be one of the representatives from each country to give a speech. I thought, 300 people, that’s fine, I can share my story.

It wasn’t until we had to go up, that I noticed people around me starting to write notes. I learned that we were going to sit on a panel in front of the main conference attendees. The panel had 5,000 people! A King and Queen from a Pacific island was there, as well.

I remember panicking and sweating. I told Uncle Pōkiʻi, I think I’m having anxiety right now. He told me, ‘No boy, you can get this, you got this.’

They put me on the panel on the stage. I was the last one to go. I remember trying to sit up properly and have good posture and cannot remember a single word that I said on the panel. All I remember was after my speech, everybody, Aunty Sharon, and Uncle Poki’i, hugging me and crying, telling me that was one of the best speeches they ever heard. One of the friends I made, whose aunty was the Queen, said the Queen laughed and cried.

That was a moment in my life when I had no control over how the outcome would be, but it was one of the best times of my life.

 How the Trust inspires his own parenting style

These two ladies from the Trust, Aunty Sharon and Aunty Sonny Makua, started a young women’s group in Waiʻanae. They were the equivalent of [the boys’ group leaders] Uncle Maka, Uncle Pōki’i, and Uncle Lyle.

It was awesome to see these Aunties work with the young girls to become women.

I have a beautiful son, and I have a beautiful daughter. Because of what I observed from the Aunties and Uncles, I learned to be a patient father, and that I needed to talk to my daughter.

Having a daughter is terrifying. I taught her fundamentals before she turned 10. She can wash her clothes, change a tire on my truck, cook a pot of rice on the stove. She can gut and clean a full-sized pig. She can take care of herself.

With my boy, the same thing but a little more intense. I’m already teaching him the Hawaiian ceremonies.  

What I gathered from learning, being an alakaʻi and haumāna for the Trust, and now a kumu, is that we are the next generation. I look forward to continuing what our kūpuna started.

What the Trust instilled in him as a teenager

It was the Queen’s vision that helped us. Our common goal in life was to make Her proud. One of the core values we learned at the mua was to be selfless, to do and live this life perpetuated in the vision of our what our Queen wanted for us.

By me having kids now, I’m making sure Her legacy can live on through them. We gather knowledge so we can pass it down. It’s not about accumulating the knowledge for ourselves. It’s about gathering what we can so that we can make the future better.

The original members of Mua O Ulehawa and Kiaʻi ʻŌiwi O Kaʻala

I keep in touch with them all, for sure. Jacob Aki, Laka Kekuewa, Koa Kaloi, Kaulana Stanley, Shane Erlandez, and Kauila Magallanes.

We are from different backgrounds. Laka works for a solar company. Koa works for a labor union. Jacob used to work for the state capitol and now is a spokesperson for an airline. I’m the district manager supervisor for the DOE. We all came up through the QLT system (Queen Liliʻuokalani Trust) to become who we are today.

All of us have kids — oh, it’s crazy. We have a brotherly bond, and I know I can go down the list and call them anytime. I am nothing but proud of them.