ʻĀina is kuleana, not commodity.
Our lands, our waters, and our people are not commodities to be traded for someone else's profit margin. They are kuleana. Every policy decision I make will be tested against that standard.
I am ʻōiwi Hawaiʻi, raised in the rhythm of my kūpuna and shaped by the lessons they handed down at kitchen tables, in community halls, and on the lāhui's front lines.
Civic engagement was not something I chose. It was the air in the room. My kūpuna in my lifetime were always testifying to protect this place or that, advocating for the lands, the waters, and the people they loved. I watched them show up, and so I learned to show up. That posture toward community — that steady, durable obligation to the people and places who raised you — is what I carry into this race.
My path back home was not a straight line. I did not attend high school in Hawaiʻi. I was raised by my dad during those years, spent a short stretch on the continent, and eventually found my way back. When I was home, my education came from Nā Kūpuna o Maui. I was the youngest among them, present not as a peer but as a haumāna — there to learn alongside our elders and absorb what they were teaching simply by being in their company. Aunty Tamaka Haleʻi became an important kumu for me when I returned, and Nā Kūpuna o Maui is among the hui that helped raise the woman who stands before this district today.
I was also displaced. For much of my early life, until I was fifteen, I was raised in part by my great-grandmother. When she passed, I carried her words forward as a kind of compass:
“You will be the one to heal our family. You will be the one to return home.”
That charge sits at the center of why I do this work. It is part of my fire, and part of my discipline.
I have spent my life being pulled into leadership — president of my class as a kid, a manager in my professional life, and a seat at countless community tables since. The through-line has never been the title. It has always been the people I am accountable to.
What I do every day is birth work. I am a Native Hawaiian mother and a traditional birth worker, and I have dedicated my life to serving our Maui community. I deliver babies. I take care of mommas. And I am sick and tired of watching them get trampled on by politicians who couldnʻt care less.
Running for office wasnʻt my first choice. But I canʻt stand on the sidelines while our people suffer any longer. I am asking for your help to build the Maui our keiki deserve — one where food is abundant, nobody is homeless, and locals can afford to live well.
Our time is now. Holomua, kākou.