In Hawaii, Native students are dropping out at an alarming rate. Only 4 out of 5 finish high school, and only 2 of those will earn a college degree. And in Waianae, Hawaii, the problem is even worse. This coast has the highest concentration of Indigenous Hawaiians. It is also one of the poorest regions in the state. Only 14% of the people here hold a college degree. But one farm is working to solve this education crisis by combining modern agriculture and ancestral Hawaiian practices. MA'O farms in Waianae, Hawaii pays for Native youth to go to college, and teaches them how to run it based on Indigenous principles. Cheryse Sana, also known as Kaui, manages MA‘O Organic Farms. Ten years ago, she participated in their internship program. Today, she is leading it. Every morning, before we start the day here at MA'O, we come together in a big circle and we do an Oli. “E ho mai” is a chant that we do to ground ourselves, to start the day “pono,” or in balance. The work that we do is sacred. It’s probably about 5:15ish right now at the farm. We’re harvesting curly kale for our order today. Maybe close to 200 pounds of this today, which is actually kind of a small order for us. Most of this kale will be going to restaurants here on Oahu. When I graduated high school, I was just this quiet little thing. I couldn’t even have eye contact with anybody at the farm. As I got connected more with the farm and I got to taste food, I got to see food grow. I got to feed my family. I got to feed others in the community. I really started to feel like I was a part of something that was beyond me. In Waianae, college tuition remains unaffordable for many. But at MA‘O Farms, young people can work the land in exchange for college scholarships and a monthly stipend. This is our sassy salad mix: salad with a kick, salad with some spice - salad with some attitude. Cheryse has lived in Waianae her whole life. Growing up, I always felt really lucky because I always got to go to the beach every day. I got to see these beautiful mountains. As I got older, I started to hear all these stereotypes about my community, and that kinda said that it was directly about me. When I got accepted into UH Manoa, I didn’t have the money for it. I didn’t want to get into debt, and I didn’t want to ask my parents for money, because I’m the oldest of seven. One of my teachers recommended me to do this program. I found a family that I never knew I needed. MA‘O paid her tuition and allowed her to get a degree in Hawaiian studies. When I first came to the farm, I never thought I’d be a farmer. I just wanted to use this as a platform for me to get my degree, which I did, and I ended up falling in love with land, and with farming and with food. And it’s the same thing with some of these guys ... When I heard about MA'O and the things they do, it connected more to what I wanted to do as a person. Waking up at 5 a.m. is kinda rough for me. But then I just think of when you can actually hear nature – and then you see the sun rise and everything. it’s a good start for my day, actually. They’re probably not going to be farmers, but if these guys end up becoming doctors or social workers or teachers in our community, I think it’s super critical for them now, that they’re in their program - they can bring these values to their workspace and to their families. My passion is working on the land. It’s very challenging to balance school and work, but the best way to better yourself is to get out of that comfort zone, and I think it’s the perfect opportunity for me to do that. One of our biggest philosophies here is to harvest the same day that it's delivered. So, everything you see here is harvested this morning. Young people in Waianae face high levels of drug addiction, domestic violence, and a lack of access to healthy food. But not here on the farm. Hokulani Kepo’o Florence plans to continue farming here for at least her four years of college. I became a mom at 20 years old. They’re always telling me, “Hoku, you’re doing awesome.” It's just, those words, like, I kinda go back home to my son feeling good. Monday, I thought, went really good with the outside crew. We’re going to try to do more planting today, so just be ready. Cheryse and her colleagues at MA'O Farms believe that reconnecting with the life ways of their ancestors is essential to the development of young leaders. 85% of their student cohort is indigenous Hawaiian. In ancient Hawaiian times, land stewardship meant to take care of the land, from the mountains to the ocean. You only take what you need. When you take care of the land, the land takes care of you. It totally starts to change the dynamic of how we connect with food and with each other. "There are a whole bunch of other people doing good jobs ..." Kamu Enos joined the farm over 10 years ago. He leads the social enterprise of MA'O Farms, integrating the twin pillars of modern economics with traditional relationship with the land. I’m actually really interested in the idea of indigenizing. Indigenizing to me means that you look at the structures that were thrust upon you - whether it's economic, social, or whatnot - and how do you repurpose these structures to be vehicles for ancestral responsibilities. So it means you have to have a dual fluency – you have to have a fluency in your ancestry and fluency in contemporary spaces. We’re not just providing empowerment, like, we have bottom lines we have to hit on a daily basis. To take that kind of risk with them was a huge gamble. One of the first interns we took it with was Kaui. At 27, Kaui is an elder already. MA‘O Farms has grown into the largest organic farm on the island of Oahu. And over 300 students have participated in their internship program. Every Saturday morning, Cheryse and her students travel to Honolulu to sell their vegetables at a local farmer's market, and engage with the larger community. So you can just measure them out by your hand, like a nice big bunch, because we only sell these for a dollars anyway, yeah? Curly kale on sale! The knowledges and the practices that people are calling new and sustainable - it's not new, you know. It's "knew" with a silent "k." Like, we've known this. Our ancestors [have] known this. I just want to continue to do more for the people of Waianae, and evidently the world, because we are all connected.
