Here is an assignment that I did on the idea of the âlocalâ â and how itâs crucial to learn about the origins of the term instead of mindlessly using it without thinking about its historical significance and contemporary impact. (To learn more about the listed periods and events mentioned, do some research on it to put the ideas into context!)
From folks trying to speak pidgin to visitors insisting on doing what âlocalsâ do, I have consistently been exploring and reflecting on what the term âlocalâ entails and the social consequences that result from it. As the term has emerged during several key moments throughout history, the legacy of the word continues to resonate with specific groups in HawaiÊ»i and the multi-ethnic and multi-cultural relations that have shaped the Islands to the way it is today. From the plantation era to the Massie Case, the term âlocalâ has developed as a cultural identity that reflects the struggle for power for Native Hawaiians and people of color. Local is a self-identification (to some extent because it also requires the acceptance of others who claim to be local) that encompasses real lived experiences which may have different meanings for each individual, but also serves as a collective identity for solidarity and belonging.
To begin with, the plantation era (1800s - 1950s) is seen as the historical home of the idea of the âlocalâ through the exploitative relationship between plantation owners and the workers. The haole plantation ownersâ sense of paternalism stemmed from their ideas of white racial superiority and the âdutyâ for the âstronger raceâ to spread âCaucasian civilizationâ to HawaiÊ»i (Takaki 139). The Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Filipino, Puerto Rican, and Native Hawaiian laborers had to endure through harsh working conditions, long work hours, and tedious manual labor, which created a collective subordinate social status in opposition to planter and merchant oligarchy (Okamura 162).
From sharing food (hence the mixed plate) to exchanging different languages (English, Hawaiian, Japanese, Chinese and some Filipino) to create pidgin, the cultural and linguistic foundations of the âlocalâ stem from this era when workers struggled and worked together to survive on the plantations. Especially since the workers were referred to by bangos, or impersonal identification numbers, they needed to way to recover their loss sense of identity by creating a collective one on their own to establish a new sense of âselfâ (Takaki 136). While the actual term âlocalâ did not emerge during this time, the Asian, Native Hawaiian and Puerto Rican workers all hold shared experiences of inequality and mistreatment that established essential relationships that would grow overtime to oppose the foreign powers.
Moving on to the 1930s, the Massie case serves as a pivotal moment for the inception of the word âlocalâ to the general public both on the islands of HawaiÊ»i and the continental United States. The alleged rape of Thalia Massie and the red-handed murder of Joseph Kahahawai by her mother and husband stirred up racial tensions that ultimately ended in injustice for the youth of color (Chinese, Japanese, and Hawaiian boys). As Americans back on the continental U.S. followed this case closely, this was when the term âlocalâ was used for the very first time on the newspaper to separate between whites and non-whites, as they sought to maintain the power of whites on the Islands. Â
The development of the âlocalâ identity among working-class people of color allowed the HawaiÊ»i residents to articulate a common history of oppression and frustrations with the influx of white military personnel to the island (Rosa 94). On one hand, the term âlocalâ created a sense of solidarity among the different ethnic groups at the time, but it was also a political identity that was used by those who wish to gloss over and minimize the historical differences between Native Hawaiians and non-Hawaiians (Rosa 101). The Massie case should not be told in reaffirming local identity at the expense of Native Hawaiians: historical narratives in HawaiÊ»i have too often mobilized against the very people that they were originally meant to empower (Rosa 110). As the term âlocalâ developed from this monumental case, the identity will continue to shift as the racial make-up, sovereignty movement, corporate interests, and military presence fluctuate throughout the course of time.
Fast forward to contemporary times and present day, the word âlocalâ has evolved tremendously within the last thirty years, but still holds strong connections to its historical foundations and significance. Okamura describes the strengthening of the âlocalâ identity as a response to economic and political developments such as: the large investment from Japan in the 1980s, expansion of tourism, the Hawaiian sovereignty movement, and wide social gap between Japanese Americans and other ethnic groups (Okamura 161). The greatest impact is due to the increasing marginalization of HawaiÊ»iâs people to external sources of power and control over the land and cultures. (Okamura 162). Most importantly, âlocalâ is a common identity that expresses the ongoing resistance and opposition to outside domination and intrusion that continues to plague the Islands (Okamura 174). For the most part, âlocalsâ want to separate themselves from the influx of tourists, and the âlocalâ Japanese want to draw a distinction from the Japanese nationalists that got heat for heavily investing and controlling the land. Nowadays, many use âlocalâ for those who are born and raised in HawaiÊ»i and share points of commonality such as: eating certain foods (plate lunches), practice of particular customs and habits (âlow keyedâ and considerate interactions), entertainment (ethnic jokes) and shared folklore (supernatural beliefs) (Okamura 164).
Similar to the word, âaloha,â I feel like the term and idea of the âlocalâ is over-consumed and exploited through cultural productions and consumer goods. From reuseable bags at Foodland to clothing and apparel, the word âlocalâ is always verbally and visually around me. Many people throw out the word without critically thinking about its history and implications, which erases the life stories and experiences of the people that actually endure through the social issues of HawaiÊ»i up until today. A quote that exemplifies this is from Krystilez during his guest lecture,
â[The term âAngry localsâ] is deeply-rooted pain from great-grandparents thatâs constantly lingeringâfeelings about injustice, something that wasnât right. A lot of the local kids have this feeling growing up. People try to move forward and progress with it, that thought will always linger. The fact that youâve been taken over and taken away.â
With all the historical and contemporary context for this relevant term, I personally believe that I do not have the place or position in HawaiÊ»iâs society to define the term âlocal.â The idea and identity of âlocalâ is tied inextricably to historical discrimination and marginalization and present-day struggles and experiences in HawaiÊ»i, a land that is not mine or for me to judge. All I can say is that âlocalâ embodies the intersections of race, ethnicity, gender, class, and they all impact the notion that the âpolitical is personal, and personal is political,â which is to be determined by each individual and their real lived experiences and struggles on the Islands.
1. Okamura, J. Y. (1994). âWhy There Are No Asian Americans in Hawaiâi: The Continuing Significance of Local Identity,â pp. 161-178.
2. Rosa, J. (2000). âLocal Story: The Massie Narrative and the Cultural Production of Local Identity in Hawaiâi,âpp. 93-115.
3. Takaki, R. (1983). âRaising Cane: The World of Plantation Hawaii,â pp. 132-176.
