Mahealani Wilson

Professor Goodyear-Kaopua
Contemporary Native Hawaiian Politics
March 14, 2016
A Gentle Soldier
It is just like any other Sunday afternoon in the Akau household. My sister is over for the
weekend; I can smell something burning in the kitchen. She and my little cousin have been
watching the cooking channel again, and they are the top chefs in this house. My aunty is
working on her computer trying catching up on work while the baby, Makana, sleeps peacefully
allowing all of us a few moments of peace. My grandpa is on the computer working on his next
business venture or updating the website for his current one. Papa, I want to write my paper on
you for my Native Hawaiian Politics class. Not looking up from his screen he jokingly says, oh
no, dont do that. I bribe him with a glass of iced coffee and his tale begins.
Peering at me over the top of his glasses he says, I was born, I lived, here I am. My
papa, Michael Akau was born in downtown San Francisco on January fourth, 1953 to Abigail
Akau, a beautiful mix of German Salvadorian roots, and Clarence Akau, a handsome Hawaiian
Chinese boy who had moved from Kalihi to California to attend school. When I asked him if he
knew of anything important that happened during that time in California he said, nope. My
grandfather is one to tell it like it is, he doesnt fluff stories or beat around the bush, which is one
reason why I am writing this story today. My great grandfather, Clarence is a local boy from
Kalihi that fell in love with my great grandmother in the California. She was beautiful. Caramel
skin, reflecting her Salvadorian roots, with bright blue eyes a direct trait from her German side.
The pair had met in 1950, got married in 1952, and gave birth to my grandfather the following

year. My grandpa was the first to be born out of five. Later came my uncle Maurice, my aunty
Mel, aunty Steph, and my uncle Pootie (Anthony). He began his story with a smile, My
childhood was amazing. He went on to tell stories full of mischief and child-like curiosity.
Laughing, he recalls a time when he had drug a Christmas tree home that he had found. I was
just a little kid and it was after Christmas. The tree was brown, but I was so proud of it. I was
like, wow, my own tree! I drug that thing all the way home. He spent the first couple of years
of his childhood in California and later moved to Oahu in 1958. As he continues his story, the
rest of us crowded around him, felt like we were back in the 50s with him, imagining our
grandfather as a small boy adventuring around San Francisco, helping us to think back to our
childhood too. There was a sense of nostalgia filling the room as we listened to him talk. There
was no T.V., no toys out or cellphones. It was just us kids listening to a man we have listened to
our whole lives, but this time he wasnt papa, he was a young filled with hopes and dreams.
Fast-forward to the mid 60s, my papa was now at St. Johns and in the seventh grade. He
tells stories of his struggles in school and how he never seemed to understand anything no matter
how much he had studied. Detentions and bad grades were the usual for him stemming from a
hearing disability he would not discover until a much later time in his life. His time in school
was not all bad though. His eyes lit up as he shared his stories of football games, after-school
programs, and his girl-crazy days. He got into fights here and there, most of the time because
of his skin color, but he just said, kids were being kids, they were stupid. He later transferred
to Damien in the ninth grade where he was the head of the football team and broke numerous
state records for shot put and discus throws. He got all of the girls. Not only was he a star athlete,
but he was also a member of the Parkside Gents, a band formed of his siblings and a couple of
Kailua boys. This was the period of rock and roll. American and British influence was prevalent

in Hawaii during this era that consisted of foreign drugs and music despite the distance between
the mainland and the islands. These things had little influence on my grandfather because he was
a local boy at heart and all he wanted to do was go beach, but the affects could be seen
throughout the island, especially in places like Kalihi, China Town, and Waianae. When he talks
about his time at Damien and later at Radford his excitement level goes down. You could see the
twinkle in his eye become dimmer as he talks about gambling and gangs in his area. Because my
grandfather was one of the better football players on his team, he was seen as a threat to other
schools and even gamblers. His brow furrowed as he recalled a phone call he had gotten one
morning before school. I picked up the phone and someone had offered me $5,000 dollars to
make sure we lost the football game that night. Being a naive eighteen-year-old girl, I didnt
quite understand why a person would ask my grandpa to do such a crazy thing, and why they
would give him so much money to do it. He explained to me that gamblers placed big bets on
games during that time and in that instance, the bets werent on him.
My grandfather transformed from the man I have known all of my life to an agitated
teenager within a few moments right before my eyes. I asked him, Did you always know what
you wanted to be and where you wanted to go after high school? He responded with a curt, No.
Everybody always asked me dat. How you expect me to know what Im going do with my life if
I dont even know what I doing tomorrow? The local boy in my grandfather always did come
out when he got a little bit irritated. He went on to tell me that as soon as he had graduated high
school, he had got drafted for the military and that is what changed the course of his life forever.
You never really do understand how rabidly adulthood comes until it finally hits you,
and it does hit you, it hits you right in the gut. This is a statement I can definitely relate to as I
myself am slowly entering the adult-world, but at my age, my grandpa was hit hard. He

remembers always playing soldier and cops and robbers when he was a child and he knew
he didnt want to be anything more than a soldier or a police officer when he finally wanted to
settle down and start his career, but he wanted to find himself first. After getting the phone call
letting him know he had been drafted, a sudden wave of panic had settled over him. He hadnt
done all that he had wanted to in his life. Granted, he didnt really know what he wanted to do,
but he did know he didnt do it yet. He knew his duty as an American and of course he would go,
but man, that really sucked. Eighteen-year-old Michael came out again in his story when he
talked about the relief he felt when they told him that the orders had been dropped. At that
moment he knew that he couldnt let another adolescent moment slip away, he had to find out
who Michael was. On that note, he begins his journey across America.
In 1974, he moved back to San Francisco. This was during the Peace Movement and I
laugh as my grandpa explains his wardrobe; a mash of bright colors, tie-dye, bell-bottoms, and
fringed leather jackets. He was quite the fashionable one if I do say so myself. A combination of
bus rides and fellow travelers landed my papa is some of the most outlandish situations
throughout various parts of the country. Near-death experiences were explained with enthusiasm
and a look of accomplishment on his face. A year later he had decided he had enough and
returned to Oahu. He was ready to settle down and finally serve his country. Since he had always
wanted to be a police officer, he made the choice to enroll in the military police academy for the
army. His hearing once again proved to be a problem and he was unable to become an officer,
but he ended up getting stationed in Fort Picket, Virginia where he met the love of his life, my
grandmother.
After falling in love and getting married in my grandmas hometown, my grandparents
welcomed their first child and my mom, Leilani. After having another three children and

traveling to different parts of the world for the army, my papa started working for the railroad.
He later got hurt on the job after moving his way up to mechanical engineer and took a big leap
of faith when he decided not to return to the railroad, but instead he open up his own restaurant.
He was managing a family of six and going to community college during this time and he soon
became burnt out. It was not long until he quit taking classes, his marriage started to go downhill
and he was began to miss the islands. The lure of white sands, plate lunches, and year long
summer quickly became to hard to resist and he made his return to Oahu once more. I was
already six by this time and after my grandfather had basically raised me, I was upset to see him
go, but he said something to me that I will always remember. No matter where you go in life
and how long youre away, youll always come back home. Oahu was my papas home.
Oahu welcomed him back with open arms at the age of forty-two. Throughout his
journey, my grandpa discovered how important education was so he decided to go back to
school. Despite his hearing disability, which caused him to do poorly in school, he was
determined to get a degree. He started his journey at Chaminade after getting hearing aids and it
was like a whole new world. Nobody had been there to help him as a child. To be patient with
him and explain the material was too much of a hassle, even for the teachers. Now that he could
hear and he was able to help himself, learning became the most important thing to my papa.
After years and years of having two jobs and going to school without any support, my
grandfather now has his PHD in business administration. Since his return, he has volunteered at
the zoo, worked at a special school for autistic children, became a dedicated yogi and been a
constant steady rock for my family.
The suffocating presence of military in our islands have changed the way native
Hawaiians view their people and even themselves. My grandpa recalls a time when it was okay

to have military influence in grade school and to be yanked away from your family at the tender
age of eighteen to serve a country that isnt truly even yours. Everybody was used to it and I
dont even know if my papa truly knew what a great control they had over the people he called
family. He was in a world where teachers didnt even have the time to go over class material for
a disabled student who was obviously struggling. He may not have known about the death grip
America had over Hawaii during this time, but I feel like deep down maybe he knew it wasnt
right.
After listening to my papa talk for three hours over coffee and sweet bread, I have never
felt closer to him and more determined to go far in life. His story is one of heartache, triumph,
and injustice, but it is one close and dear to my heart. I see myself in a lot of my grandpas
stories. I catch glimpses of defiance and such great passion to make a difference and he taught
the importance of making a difference, even if that difference is only within yourself.