Eight years ago

Eight years ago a drill dug into the mountain, into her bones, her marrow. Pieces of her sacred body extracted, poking, prodding, testing how strong she is. Testing how much it would take to break her. I can still remember seeing her particles laid out for display in boxes. I can still remember how I wailed. I can still remember how we chanted into her wounds. I can still remember how it felt in my bones, in my marrow.

Something old inside of me told me to gird my pā‘ū, fasten my kākua, and stand in the presence of what tried to destruct. The wind carried my ‘ōlena dyed regalia mirroring a drill with the intention to undo it what had been done. A reminder from the summit that our prayers are still powerful, our ceremony still sacred, our love still felt.

There may be many who do not understand why we stand. Why when we say we are Mauna Kea, we mean it. Why we keep doing all we can to protect our sacred places. We are born of this very ‘āina, our genealogies connect us all the way back to the birth of this very mountain. What happens onto the land happens onto us and our next seven generations. That is why our strength, our healing, our courage is so important because it reflects in the same way. Our strength is the lands strength. Our healing is the lands healing. Our courage is the lands courage. Our love is the lands love.

And this is why I know more than ever that the Thirty Meter Telescope will never be built in our mountain. Because we still believe. Kū Kia‘i Mauna, stand strong like the mauna. Embody the protection of the Mauna. We are still Mauna Kea. E ho’iho’i ea.

#protectmaunakea

📸: @andrewrichardhara