The Impacts of Living in “Paradise”: A Narrative Study on the Native Hawaiian Migration Trends
MIDS student Melia Soque discusses her Hawaiian heritage, data science, and how the two combine in her research
Rooted in the richness of Hawaiian culture and traditions, I have witnessed firsthand the erosion of our ancestral ties to our ‘āina (land). King Kamehameha III declared, “Ua mau ke ea o ka ‘āina i ka pono,” meaning, “The life of the land is perpetuated in righteousness.” This motto resonates heavily in my heart. From a young age, I have treated the land as an extension of my ‘ohana (family).
‘Āina and every ripple in the ocean wasn’t just scenery or a part of the “paradise” tag Hawai’i often gets. For many of us, it is who we are. My ‘ohana’s Sunday rituals at Ala Moana Beach Park were not just gatherings. They were moments when we embraced our kupuna (ancestors), celebrating our bond with the land and the ocean otherwise known as Papa (earth mother) and Wākea (sky father).
Keiki (children) would play in the sand and splash in the water; my older relatives would go surfing, and we’d all collectively make countless memories. We were taught not merely to exist but to coexist, to protect and preserve. However, as Hawai’i evolved accepting and encouraging tourism as our primary source of financial stability; I’ve sadly watched our wahi pana (sacred spaces/ land) bear the brunt. It is more than just environmental harm; it’s a deep wound to our cultural and ancestral identity.
I was raised in Pauoa Valley of Honolulu, Hawai’i. This hidden valley of green holds an irreplaceable spot in my heart. It’s the cherished ancestral land where my kupuna have lived since 1825; their legacy passed down through generations with a steadfast resolve to retain our land, resisting the pressures from mainland developers and external investors. The network of waterways from the surrounding valleys all converge to meet the ocean, which instills in us a profound respect for our environment. In my home, we uphold the righteousness of our land by ensuring no trash is left behind, fully aware of the potential consequences it may bear on the ocean.
Many of us aren’t lucky enough to have a home in the land that rightfully belongs to us. Throughout my life, I’ve witnessed the harsh reality of homelessness, with numerous individuals in Hawaii, including Native Hawaiians, being displaced and forced onto the streets. This issue isn’t always tied to substance abuse but often results from the outrageous cost of living, renting, and home ownership. In Honolulu, living expenses are 88% above the national average, with housing costs soaring to 202% higher, according to PayScale Inc. The average home sale price in Hawai’i is $955,000, while the median household income is $84,857, and the minimum wage weighs in at a mere $14.
We were taught not merely to exist but to coexist, to protect and preserve. However, as Hawai’i evolved accepting and encouraging tourism as our primary source of financial stability; I’ve sadly watched our wahi pana (sacred spaces/ land) bear the brunt. It is more than just environmental harm; it’s a deep wound to our cultural and ancestral identity.
The Department of Hawaiian Home Lands (DHHL), established by the 1920 U.S. Congress Hawaiian Homes Commission Act, aims to uplift the lives of Native Hawaiians by managing public lands for homesteading. Eligibility requires individuals to have a 50% blood quantum. Despite the significant benefits of the Native Hawaiian Homelands program, many die waiting on a long list to secure a home. It is beneficial in many ways as it offers leases at $1 a year for those qualified to build or buy on the land. The challenge lies in addressing the needs of nearly 29,000 people on the waitlist, including those who can afford a home and those who cannot afford one. DHHL officials have various options for utilizing new funds, from developing lots to providing mortgage and rental help, but the core issue remains assisting these two distinct groups effectively.
Native Hawaiians are experiencing significant demographic shifts and conflicts of displacement. Data from the U.S. Census Bureau reveals that, as of 2020, more Native Hawaiians reside outside their ancestral lands by 53%. My research applies a mixed-methods analysis to project indigenous migration patterns within the U.S., primarily focusing on Native Hawaiians and Other Pacific Islanders (NHOPI). For generations, our Native Hawaiian ancestors have shared their wisdom, values, and experiences through mo’olelo (stories). These stories held valuable data, encapsulating events, emotions, decisions, and lessons learned. The aim is to identify common factors influencing indigenous migrations. Critical motivations for my research include preventing cultural erosion and identity loss and addressing issues like rising poverty rates within indigenous communities.
I hypothesize that the number of Native Hawaiians migrating away from their ancestral lands will continue to increase. By 2030, a more considerable proportion will likely settle on the continent. To examine this, I will leverage a mixed-methods approach. Quantitative datasets include the 2010 and 2020 Census and the State of Hawaii Data Book from the Department of Business Economic Development and Tourism. Qualitatively, narratives from interviews with migrated Native Hawaiians will enrich the understanding. These narratives will subsequently be integrated into a time series regression model, presenting a pioneering approach to blending storytelling with data analytics.
My journey in data science is rooted in my personal experiences and cultural identity, which has provided me with unique skills and a deep commitment to use these capabilities for the betterment of the Native Hawaiian and Pacific Islander communities. My academic background has given me the tools to dissect complex datasets, analyze trends, and uncover hidden patterns, translating my community’s narratives and lived experiences into quantifiable insights. By employing advanced machine learning algorithms and mixed methods analysis, I am working to reveal the profound migration patterns of my people, offering a fresh and empirically grounded perspective.
The broader impacts of this work extend beyond the academic sphere, addressing critical issues such as cultural and identity preservation, rising poverty rates, and the economic challenges faced by our indigenous communities. I have the privilege of remaining at the piko (center) of the Hawaiian civilization and aspire to use my data science skills as a means of empowerment — being my people’s voice and advocating for preserving our cultural heritage. In leveraging these skills, I strive to create a future where our presence and prosperity in our ancestral lands are secure. To preserve our identity and advocate for the Native Hawaiian and Pacific Islander communities, I am committed to influencing policy changes and reallocating resources to provide more substantial support by bridging the past with the future through data science.
Mahalo Nui Loa!
Recommended reading and newsletters for more information on the effects of locals and Native Hawaiians living in Hawaii:
Melia Soque is a second-year student in the Master of Information and Data Science (MIDS) program at the UC Berkeley School of Information. She is based in Hawaii and is the recipient of a 2023–2024 Jack Larson Data for Good Fellowship.
