“There is something special about this place”: Identity, Kuleana, and Sustainable Theater-Making in Honolulu, HI

                                                                    “Artist Statement”
I was born and raised in D.C.
I am what some call a “Native Washingtonian”.
I grew up along the Chesapeake Bay’s tributaries, creeks, and beaches.
Bonding over crabs and watching the waters with loved ones.
There is something special about this place.
Why did this region produce so many
Black
abolitionists,
Free People,
and revolutionaries?
Did this aquatic crossroads create a formula for freedom?
Being so close to the water and
So close to the Free People,
The Enslaved in this region
Grew new routes
to Freedom.
Their visionary resilience is why we are here today.
– from The Free Black Chesapeake Project

***

Aloha y’all! I am ChelseaDee Harrison. I am a theater maker, a Teaching Artist, one of three fellows in the 2024 TYA/USA Emerging Leader Fellowship Program, and an artivist. I think of artivism as what happens at the intersection of art and activism. I am invested in figuring out how my artform can help communities get their needs met. I offer my poem, “Artist Statement,” as an introduction of myself, where I come from, and my Ancestors. I am trying out my Ho’olauna, the Kānaka Maoli, or Indigenous Hawaiian practice of introducing yourself by naming your lineage and connection to the land. The practice of Ho’olauna forced me to look at myself and ask: who am I and what am I here to do in this life? Even with all my freedoms, what is my kuleana, my responsibility to the world around me? What is the kuleana of my art? I am deeply grateful to the extraordinary island of Oahu, the city of Honolulu, and the incredible team at the Honolulu Theatre for Youth for allowing me the space and time to learn about Hawai‘i and myself. The lessons I learned during my trip will guide and inspire my art making, community building, and life practices for years to come.

When I applied for the TYA/USA Emerging Leader Fellowship program, I proposed a course of observation, conversation, and cultural immersion with a company I have admired from (very far) afar – the ever innovative Honolulu Theatre for Youth. I first encountered the work of HTY online during the early Quarantine Years of COVID, season 2021-2022. They were streaming their plays online and I was able to watch a digital production of STORIES OF OCEANIA. From my living room, I felt immersed in the nuanced histories and cultures of the Pacific islands and beyond. They were using theater to give voice to young people’s journey through identity, culture, and embracing differences. They were creating theater that speaks to the complicated experiences their young people are grappling with. Their foresight to offer digital shows and the insight to center the stories of their community excited and inspired me. From across the country, I chose to research with HTY because I want to create spaces for story, conversation, and healing in my community the way HTY has done for theirs. I wanted to know how they created a network of schools, educators, artists, and performance spaces on six major islands of Hawai‘i. How did they turn arts education workshops and performances into a viable, sustainable business model that has lasted since 1955? After seeing their work, I felt compelled to learn how to create sustainable theater and arts education programming. In this instance, I imagine “sustainable” theater as public storytelling that is impactful, relevant, and responsive to the culture of the people living nearby. I envision a sustainable theater as an ever changing yet stabilizing presence because it is rooted in a clear purpose. Honolulu Theatre for Youth seemed to understand my nascent ideas about culturally responsive theater and they welcomed me with open arms to an island paradise.

When I arrived In Honolulu, the sun had already set. I was immediately picked up by HTY Artistic Associate, TYA/USA Board Member, and all around wonder Reiko Ho. As we made our way up the winding mountainside road, Reiko spoke of HTY as a “theater of place.” The concept of a theater rooted in place really resonated with me. That conversation, though brief, planted a seed that has continued to grow since that night in Honolulu. The next day, under the golden glow of the sun, I could see the full tropical splendor of the Manoa Valley, where my gracious hostess Carolyn lives. The breezes would travel through my open windows, billowing the curtains. On my first drive into the city guided by the Artistic Director of HTY, the visionary Eric Johnson and his awesome son and HTY Camper, the passing rain shower gave birth to a double rainbow. I could not believe how lush and verdant the island is- paradise is an understatement!

My research trip in Honolulu was filled with art, theater, technology, more art, conversation, and exploring the natural landscape. After many months of online planning meetings, I was finally able to witness HTY’s augmented reality experience in person! KI’I Ā LOAʻA: Illuminating and Interrogating Hawaiʻi’s Monuments, was created by Kānaka Maoli storyteller Moses Goods, (Inamona Theatre Company), and HTY. The project uses A.R. technology to explore the narratives behind significant local statues. You simply download the app to your phone, hold your phone near the statue to trigger the script, and an interactive story occurs on your device. I saw flowers grow, floating leis, painters, soldiers, and cosmic portals appear out of nothing! The augmented reality experience at the King Kamehameha statue and the Queen Liliʻuokalani statue astounded me. My cell phone could bring to life the story of two Hawaiian monarchs facing a changing world in different time periods? Using this new technology, what else could we interrogate about society, history, and culture? In my wildest dreams, augmented reality experiences coupled with facilitated community discussions, spark social change- or at least begin the healing process. The applications of this way of working are endless!

I had conversations with HTY leadership like Reiko Ho, Eric Johnson, and the Director of Drama Education Daniel A. Kelin, II. I talked about the creative process and the intersections of Blackness in the Pacific with the talented Moses Goods. I am still processing the wisdom that these conversations held.

At the astute suggestion of Eric, I attended a play at the historic Kumu Kahua Theatre. The mission of Kumu Kahua Theatre is to produce “theatre by, for, and about the People of Hawai’i”. They’ve been “keeping it local since 1971”, an impressive feat for any theater company. We saw a production of Alani Apio’s “UA PAU”, part of his KĀMAU Trilogy and it blew me away. The characters speak about “aloha” healing our relationship to the land and to each other and eventually saving the world. I’d always thought of aloha as a nice idea but it is so much more than a state slogan. It is a way of life, an open-hearted future facing ethos rooted in love. I am beginning to understand aloha as the metaphysical force of love that holds together existence. Reiko explained that this is why it is a greeting- we meet each other with love- and also a farewell- we leave each other with love.

I was interested in learning as much about Indigenous Hawaiian culture as possible. It just so happened that a once in a lifetime gathering was happening on the island of Oahu and HTY was a part of it! I had the great privilege of attending the Festival of Pacific Arts & Culture or FestPAC 2024! FestPAC is the world’s largest celebration of Indigenous Pacific Islanders. It is a showcase of arts and culture that provides ongoing cultural exchange and resists the erosion of traditional practices. It was incredible to see the many tribes, nations, royals, and cultures, from all around the Pacific come together for the festival. The drumming, the chants, and the dances mesmerized me. I tried to study the intricate weaving of ti leaf leis, the Hawaiian kapa designs, and the feathered headdresses of the delegation from Papua New Guinea. It was humbling to see intergenerational groups proudly singing and dancing together, relishing in time-tested practices that provide a sense of self and community.

At the Hawai‘i State Art Museum, Capitol Modern, I attended gallery exhibitions that showcased culture and art from the point of view of the Pacific- an oceanic land, an aquatic constellation of archipelagoes, each with a unique cosmology that helped me understand my life a little more. I found myself falling in love with the revolutionary history of hula. Like the ocean, there is more beneath the surface of the tranquil movements. The chants, movements, and communal practice of hula contains generations of sustained resistance to cultural erasure and a fierce love of Ancestral knowledge. Witnessing the art and cultural practices of the Hawaiian islands, the oli’s (chants), and Ho’olauna’s – grounded me in an ancient yet new way of conceiving of myself and where I am. I am me, yes, and I am all who came before me. My research trip made me think about the water’s relationship to my Ancestors. My people came from across the water. As a descendant of the Trans-Atlantic slave trade, my culture was born on the water, from the belly of slave ships. The region where I live, (the “DMV” or DC, Maryland and Virginia) is synonymous with its waterways, fisherman, and crabbing. Visiting Honolulu, it was marvelous and affirming to encounter other water peoples and their cultures. We collectively revere and depend on the powers of the water. Speaking of powerful waters, I learned to surf with the adventurous “Junior” Tesoro, and felt what it meant to have the full force of the ocean supporting me or taking me under the waves.

As I continue to reflect on the magnitude of visiting the Honolulu Theatre for Youth, I’d like to share a few takeaways. As Reiko mentioned on that car ride up the mountainside, a possible approach to sustainable theater is to think of it as a theater of place. Embrace the hyper local. Where are you? What are the stories of the land you live on? Who are the land’s people? HTY affirmed my desire to use theater as a place-making practice. They taught me that making theater is a way to illuminate, archive, and celebrate the stories of the land and its people. Returning home, my curiosity for the history of DC has deepened. I want to understand more about the city and the land where I am from. KI’I Ā LOAʻA taught me that you can bring the landscape to life using technology. I can’t wait to launch an augmented reality experience in DC that engages with Confederate statues, delves into the Anacostia River and its ecosystem, or brings to life historic sites that center Black women’s contributions to the Antebellum history of DC. They’ve inspired me to dream big and propose projects that combine tech, history, and theatrical storytelling for the benefit of my city.

The public art and history program I created, The Free Black Chesapeake Project, was profoundly impacted by my research trip. The Free Black Chesapeake Project is an immersive art and history workshop, film, and public event series. We are committed to investigating how local Free Black communities inspired, protected, and promoted liberation in DC and throughout the Antebellum South. This summer, the art workshops were held at local libraries across DC and were designed to activate the public’s imagination. I wanted folks to consider who these Free Ancestors were and what gifts of wisdom they left for us. Through critical research, love for our culture, and collective art-making we are endeavoring to create an archive for the future. The value of kuleana– what we are responsible for in this lifetime- suffused my entire curriculum and facilitation style. I asked people in my community, what is your responsibility as a Free Person? Some of the grown folks didn’t have an answer to the question so they looked to the youth in the room to share their insight. The young people I met shared what they felt responsible for- things like bringing more love into the world and encouraging self-acceptance- big ideas, full of aloha for the future! My research trip clarified the purpose of my workshops for this summer and beyond. Yes, we are a Free People. Now what? How do we nourish this land and each other? What is our responsibility to the land and each other? The research trip to Honolulu revealed that what I call artivism can also be understood as kuleana. My art and art-making has a responsibility to build and heal communities. So far away from home, across an ocean, in a city on an island, Honolulu awakened and affirmed who I am and my reason for Being and making. Mahalo, to the island, the waters, and the People. Aloha!