Goodyear-Kaʻōpua, N. (2016). Reproducing the ropes of resistance: Hawaiian studies methodologies. In Oliveira, K. & Wright, E. (Eds.), Kanaka ʻōiwi methodologies: Moʻolelo and metaphor (1-29). Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press.
What is Sacred:
Goodyear-Kaʻōpua offers up four principles, single chords, or ʻaho, that when braided together form a metaphor for Kanaka ʻŌiwi research. The four ʻaho are: lāhui, collective identity and self-definition; ea, sovereignty and leadership; kuleana, positionality and obligations; and pono, harmonious relationships, justice and healing.
I think as Indigenous researchers, our thoughts converge across different space and time and this essay just reconfirms that. The author looks at Hawaiian studies and Kanaka ʻōiwi research in a broader, multi-disciplinary sense, and the metaphor of the ropes of resistance as dialogue starters for other Indigenous researchers. She embraces the multiplicity of possibilities that are created when we are able to think through our Indigenous lenses. The metaphors may be different, but the reliance on ʻike kūpuna (ancestral knowledge), ʻāina (the land which feeds) and the connotative nuances of our native language used to describe our research weaves through many Indigenous researchers' work.
I found her personal moʻolelo (story) valuable in mirroring my own experience that our graduate degrees are really about finding our voice and being heard. (For the Makalapua article)
the times when I felt certain enough to speak and to write were those when I was not speaking as an individual, but as someone with ancestors and a community who needed to be heard (4).
As ʻŌiwi researchers, finding our voices is such an important element of the scholarly path. . .Too many of our people have been silenced. . .One of the duties of a Hawaiian studies scholar, then is to know and critically engage with the body of published work by Kānaka, lest we unwittingly participate in their silencing and marginalization. (4)Connections to Current/Future Work:
I am taking away three things from this article. First, like Waitare and Johnston say, it is important not only that we, as Indigenous scholars and Indigenous female scholars are present at the university, but also that we are heard. Understanding and empowering our voice, as well as speaking the names of the mana wahine and Indigenous scholars that inform our work is an act of empowerment to the lāhui, "lest we unwittingly participate in their silence and marginalization."
Second, "selective promiscuity" is a good thing. Goodyear talks about her great grandmother who had children from three different men, none of whom she married. Goodyear calls this selective promiscuity and connects that to scholarship as a "valuable way to approach our scholarship by drawing on our ʻŌiwi lineage, but also selectively bring in other lineages or thinkers who provide us with traction to move the lāhui forward" (9). When I am at the AERA (American educational research association) I am always looking for these other lineages (cultural humility, borderlands, third spaces, red theory) to provide that traction for my own research.
Finally, the format of this article gives me ideas on how to edit my moʻo frame article.