Daria C.K.

Kekuewa
03/09/2016
Percy story

Dear baby boy or baby girl or maybe all the kids I may or may not have,
It is in my belief system that our ancestors are alive in us today. That is why we
frantically search for them and want to know them. In essence, I would be learning about myself
through learning about them. I share many mannerisms with our kupuna, same as your uncles do,
and your grandfather in ways. You soon will probably feel the same.
The reason I am writing is so that you do not struggle as I have. I have dealt with the
effects of being multi-racial and not raised in a specific culture. I had a strong sense of
nationalism as a child, which led me to be culturally lost. I am writing about how I overcame
these difficulties and how I was able to connect to a culture, but also connect with who I am.
This place has given me so much, not just a community of people, but a connection to family,
and a stronger sense of self. Having a strong sense of cultural belonging is important and that is
why you are, who you are today.
I choose to write to you about my grandmother, your great grandmother. This is the
person I inherited my name from and probably you yours. I chose to write about this woman.
This woman I have never met, got to talk to, and never got to hold. Like I do you. I want to share
the warmth, strength, and love I feel from her every day of my life even without her being here.
A reminder through all of this. That when you need your kupuna, just ask. In times of
need and distress, they will be there. Just keep a pule in your heart and mana`o in your mind, and

they will find you. Do not think that you do not have the right. You always will have the right to
seek your family regardless your ethnicity, culture or religion. If you need guidance, seek it.
I have some stories to share and a poem, so you can fully understand how I sense her. It
is hard to believe, and something you just might have to experience yourself.
Coming to the University of Hawai`i was my first time away from home. Your
grandmother came over to help me settle in. We were both restless with the thought of me being
alone. Maybe it was the need to care for her only daughter or maybe the feeling of loneliness was
settling in with an empty house in California. She helped me move in to my apartment, there was
not much that had to be done. Your grandmother felt the need to go visit your great grandmother
in punch bowl. It took us a while to find where she was, but we found her and adorned a lei on
her tomb. We stood in silence as for a bit while the sun beat down and the wind blew. My mother
quietly began to speak. I know your son and I had our differences, she began. I know you
struggled to raise him as a single mother and we tried our hardest, but it did not work out, she
stated. Today I leave one of my children here. Today I have brought one of your children
home. Amongst all the tears she pushed on. I ask that you watch over her and take care of her
when I am too far, and with that, your grandmother ended here prayer. Your grandmother had
opened a new door, a new door where your great grandmother could keep her loving eyes on me
and now you.
Now before I share the other stories I have a poem I want you to think about. It is written
by Joan Walsh Anglund:
A small speckled visitor
Wearing a crimson cape

Brighter than a cherry

Smaller than a grape
A polka-dotted someone
Walking on my wall
A black-hooded lady
In a scarlet shawl.
Can you guess what the poem is talking about? I hope you are not thinking about
something creepy. It does sound a little creepy....I guess you will have to wait for the story to
understand the poem, but I thought you would like it regardless.
It was a normal day of school, but it was an exciting day for me. I just had two classes
and then I would be able to go research stuff. I love research days. I love going to the state
archives and I love going to the bueru of convayences. The smell of old books makes me grin
from ear to ear. Feeling there heavy weight in my hands and touching the smooth paper of each
deed or grant. Reading the old short hand in Hawaiian and English was hard, but enjoyable. I
love finding out more and more. So, I woke up in the morning with a pule in my heart and mind:
Please let this be a productive day, please let me find something new.
After that silent prayer, I got ready for class. I barely remember what I did in class that
day. I do not remember the work that had been done or the conversations that had been had, I
guess all the knowledge was lost in my excitement. The first class was short, but moved by
slowly. By the time the second class is over, I had wished that I had more time or that I had
maybe used it more wisely. This left me heading to the bus on a beautiful sunny day. Moving at

a casual pace, getting closer to my destination. While on my lazy walk, I lifted my head towards
the warm sun and continued to pray:
Please let me find something. Please allow me to have this knowledge and share this
knowledge.
As I was walking with excitement it took me a while to realize a bug flying towards me
in a blur. At first I was confused, but then I quickly realized it was a ladybug. With its shiny red
shell and black dots, it had landed on the fence nearby. I immediatley teared up, remembering
the kaona behind this tiny insect and quickly realizing why it was there. I stood in shaky awe, my
pule had been answered by this one, specific, bug.
Hello, I announced to the tiny creature. It has been a while since I have seen you last, but I
know you are watching me. Thank you for your loving hands that guide me. Thank you for the
unshakeable arms that cradle me, and thank you for the strength you give me. Thank you for
keeping me safe and thank you for watching over our family.
And with that shaky reply, the ladybug flew away. I watched as it left and continued on my
journey, knowing that I would have a good research day. Also knowing that my kupuna accepted
the work I was doing.
Now, I know you are probably confused, but there is a second story that follows. One that
I was told once, and has since then stuck to me like glue. Not told by your grandfather, but
actually told by your grandmother. Who very much has shared in experiences very similar to
your great grandmothers. When your grandfather was a kid and when your great grandmother
was still alive, they shared a nickname. Your granfather was known bug and your great
grandmother, lady. So, where ever they went together they were known as ladybug. So, after she

passed away, every once in a blue moon a ladybug would fly by. I always knew it was her
watching me and supporting me in my weakest and most frustrating moments. Your grandfather
has had the same.
So, I hope in your future you will seek the guidance you need through your kupuna. I
hope you will have moments that you feel watched over, not just by me but by our ancestors.
That you will be able to go out and seek your own knowledge and learn of it through them. Dear
child, I pray you will seek your ancestral knowledge like I have. That you will have great interest
in it. I hope you find out who you are, just as I am doing every day.