What I'm fighting to protect
21-year-old Kanaka Maoli photographer and climate activist Kapulei Flores documents Hawaiʻi through Native eyes.
Aloha, my name is Kapulei Flores. I am a 21-year-old Kanaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian) photographer working to showcase Hawaiʻi through Native eyes.
When I was younger my dad was the one who always had a camera. He was in charge of documenting the different events and ceremonies my family was involved in. Watching him normalized photography for me and helped me learn how to view situations from a documentary perspective with a cultural foundation. My dad encouraged me to start taking pictures of the things our family did, everything from ceremonies we were a part of to community gatherings and events. I would photograph the huakaʻi (journey) we would take as a family to different important and sacred places throughout the Hawaiian Islands. These experiences have led to me finding my voice through photography and being able to capture moments that tell stories and document moments in time.
Now I use photography to celebrate my culture, support movements for Native rights in Hawaiʻi and advocate for a Hawaiʻi that is led by Native voices, where the priority is taking care of the people and our resources. Much of my work centers on the Protect Mauna Kea Movement, which is a collective of people working against the construction of the Thirty Meter Telescope (TMT) on top of Mauna Kea, a sacred mountain that is the heart of the island of Hawaiʻi. We advocate to protect the natural environment of Mauna Kea and stop further development of an already overdeveloped mountain that currently has 13 telescopes, a visitors center and the military base at Pōhakuloa right across.
A lot of people know me for my photos from the 2019 Protect Mauna Kea front-line stance, where I documented the arrests, the daily hula that was offered on the ala (road) to the kūpuna (elders) and the Mauna, the different hoʻokupu (offerings), the community up there and allies from around the world that came to the Mauna. I did my best to capture as many aspects of life at the encampment as I could, not only documenting for the world but also for myself. My main goal at the time was to get as much content out to the world as I could that showed a true Native perspective of what was going on. I wanted to not only focus on the struggles of a movement but the joy and beauty of it as well.
Since then, outlets like Teen Vogue, BuzzFeed News, Vox and Ms. Magazine have featured my work documenting different cultural events, ceremonies and movements. Telling my story and showing Hawaiʻi through Native eyes is something I'm honored and grateful to be able to do, not only for myself but also for my lāhui (people). The world needs to highlight and listen to Indigenous people and I'm grateful to play even a small role in that by spreading awareness about Hawaiʻi from a Native perspective.
These photos are a good introduction to the Hawaiʻi that I know and love, the Hawaiʻi that is my home. I wanted to show a perspective that was true to myself, to my home and that showed a genuine view of Hawaiʻi. When thinking of what I fight to protect, I think of my home because when it comes down to it, land is the home for all and what is the key to life. You have to protect where you come from in order to sustain anything else, and for Hawaiians specifically, we have a deep genealogical connection to the Earth that helps us understand the importance it plays in life. In order to fight to protect something you need to have a strong personal connection that makes you not only understand what you’re fighting for, but makes you feel in your naʻau (gut/intuition) why you have to stand up and make your voice heard. These photos capture a country perspective of Hawaiʻi — from rocks, lehua and Mauna Kea to the cows of Waimea. On a deeper level these photos speak about our connection to our ancestors, Hawaiian sovereignty, Hawaiian traditions rooted in our history, the beauty of traditional voyaging and the stories of old Hawaiʻi continuing to live on today.
Photography has allowed me to shed truth on many misconceptions of and misinformation about Hawaiʻi from a foreign perspective. When people learn about our history and all the events and injustices our kūpuna went through, I think it makes it easier for them to understand why we feel or act in certain ways when it comes to our home. In this photo essay, you will learn more about Hawaiʻi, our history from a Native perspective and how Native people are fighting to protect our land and natural wonders. But schools need to be teaching this too.
Educators need to correct false narratives around Christopher Columbus, the overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom and the U.S. annexation of Hawaiʻi. Students need to understand that the issues Hawaiʻi faces today — like houselessness, housing inflation, poor land management, the government prioritization of tourism over local communities and our growing water shortage and mismanagement by the state — are a direct result of the U.S. government using military threats to steal land and resources from right under our people. Lands that were rightfully set aside for the people of Hawaiʻi were illegally sold or leased out to big private corporations who only care about profit and not the well-being of the environment or the people. Many of these same corporations and leases still exist to this day, damaging our natural environment and causing people to see Hawaiʻi as a place to profit off of no matter the cost.
What Hawaiʻi really needs is a government and school system that actually prioritizes the Native and local people as well as our natural resources and environment. We can't afford to prioritize tourists. If we don't start caring about our natural resources, environment and people who live here, there won't be a Hawaiʻi left for people to visit.
I hope these photos give you a glimpse of the Hawaiʻi that nurtured and raised me. The Hawaiʻi that makes me proud to be Hawaiian and the very thing I’m fighting to protect.
To many this is just a rock, but to the Kanaka Maoli (Native Hawaiians) of Hawaiʻi we see our ancestors. As Hawaiians, we are tied to the Earth genealogically through the story of Hāloa, our first human ancestor who came from a kalo (taro) plant. Just like our ancestors who came before us, we understand that we are one with the universe and therefore it is a relationship that needs to be cared for in order to have a balance. This connection to the Earth runs so deep that we see nature and the elements as gods, spirits, ancestors and ʻaumakua (guardians). This love, respect and admiration for the land we come from can be represented through the term aloha ʻāina, which means a love for the land so deep you're willing to put your life on the line to protect and preserve it.
We honor rocks such as the one pictured which is called Manaua and home to a moʻo (lizard) wahine guardian of water and that area. My family has taken on the kuleana (responsibility) of caretaking this place because it saved my town of Waimea during a drought so bad that people could only get water provided to them by the National Guard. During the drought, my papa remembered the story of the rain rock Manaua, found it and went to the forest with my mom and her sisters to gather flowers to make a lei to give as an offering to Manaua to ask for rain. Not long after, Waimea was given rain that was able to feed the people, the ranches and replenish our water sources. To this day we continue to bring offerings and take care of this place in the most pono (best/good) way we can.
Pictured is Ku Ching, an aloha ʻāina activist who has been fighting for years to protect the land in movements such as Protect Kahoʻolawe, Pōhakuloa, Mauna Kea and many others. He started a tradition in 2002 of bringing the Hawaiian Kingdom flag to the top of Mauna Kea for Lā Hoʻihoʻi Ea, Sovereignty Restoration Day. This national holiday was established on July 31, 1843 when the sovereignty of Hawaiʻi was restored after being wrongfully taken by Britain.
When we fly the kingdom flag on Mauna Kea, the Hawaiian flag is the highest flying flag in the world from the sea floor. Not only is it literally the highest flag flying in the world that day, but it represents the Hawaiian Kingdom, culture and old ways of Hawaiʻi still being alive despite all the obstacles that make being Hawaiian in Hawaiʻi difficult. Even before Hawaiʻi was illegally annexed to the U.S., we were under the control of the missionaries and wealthy businessmen who wanted to make Hawaiʻi theirs. For generations foreign powers and people have tried to make it hard to be Hawaiian in Hawaiʻi, creating problems that are directly connected to issues seen in Hawaiʻi in our land, housing and way of life. Since the great māhele that allowed foreign companies to buy Hawaiian land, the majority of the Hawaiian population has been left houseless with very limited ways to get a chance at their land back. These same lands and leases still exist today, majority on land that was stolen from the Hawaiian community with nothing substantial given in return. The biggest one for many is the illegal overthrow and occupation of Hawaiʻi by the U.S. and the military, which led to Hawaiʻi being turned into a tourism attraction instead of focusing on the livelihood of the local community and our resources. This same mindset has carried on in the present day as our government prioritizes profit, tourism and military over the people of Hawaiʻi and our natural resources. Despite being in a system that is made for us as Native people to lose, we have held our ground and continue to stand for our home and our rights. This photo has a special place in my heart because I see a lifelong activist watching the younger generations continue his tradition and hard work.
This picture is of Mauna Kea on April 26, 2021 as it was beautifully lit up by the super pink full moon. I took it late at night while the mist was starting to roll in and cover the grass pastures of Waimea. This majestic mountain has played such a key role in my life, giving me a passion with a purpose while simultaneously providing me with amazing opportunities I never thought possible.
When I say I have spent my whole life involved in the Protect Mauna Kea movement, it's not an exaggeration. I can't remember a time before Mauna Kea. I have grown up with the struggles of fighting for the protection of the land, but also surrounded in the beauty and foundation of respecting and protecting the land. It has provided me with a strong spiritual, cultural and aloha ʻāina-based foundation that has made me the person I am today and able to have the strong connection to the land that I do now. Being involved in this movement has also given me the honor of being able to stand in solidarity with different communities on their front lines and support their movements with the platform that Protect Mauna Kea has.
Although the seasons in Hawaiʻi are not as drastic as in other places around the world, they are still recognized and honored through the Hawaiian culture. This photo is from a 2021 Lono to Kū ceremony held at Pelekane Beach below Puʻukoholā Heiau, recognizing the shift from winter to spring. In Hawaiian culture, Lono is the god of peace, fertility and agriculture, and is present during the season of winter. Traditionally during this season, war was forbidden and a Makahiki festival was held including different Hawaiian sports and games. To this day different Makahiki festivities, cultural practices and events are held to celebrate Lonoikamakahiki, the season of Lono. Kū on the other hand is the god of war, strategy and prosperity. With this season we switch our mindset to one of determination and perseverance in whatever we are trying to pursue, protect and perpetuate.
The ceremony pictured is a perfect example of continuing and preserving the culture while honoring sacred ʻike (knowledge) of the wā kahiko (ancient times) by having the ceremony at the bottom of the Puʻukoholā Heiau that was known for being a Kū Heiau. In this way we honor history and the legacy of our king Kamehameha, while also honoring a known space of the god Kū, the season we are transitioning into.
I'm from a small town called Waimea on the island of Hawaiʻi that is known for being the home of the paniolo (cowboy). Back in the day the ranch was the heart and soul of the town. It set the dynamic of town and life in Waimea and made our town known for its rolling green hills and all the cows and animals that can be seen throughout town. As a middle point between districts, it is also the place where you can find a combination of hunters, farmers, fishermen, ranchers and paniolo all living as a community supporting each other.
My family in Waimea come from hunters, fishermen and paniolo, many of whom still carry on those practices today. My mom got the childhood I always dreamed of as a kid because she got to ride with my papa through the forest and puʻu (hills) of Waimea because he worked for Parker Ranch as the water supervisor that provided water for the livestock. I got a taste of the true paniolo lifestyle from going to rodeos with my cousins and even had a horse for about 10 years from my uncle in Kāʻū whose son provides the bulls for the rodeos. Although I might not be a part of a ranch or do brandings, the paniolo spirit is embedded every day in my mindset and heart. I am fortunate to be able to hear from the perspectives of those who knew the old Waimea and ranch life while still being able to visit those same puʻu now. When I see these pictures I think of the true Waimea that I know and love with all its unique features and beauty that make it the home of the paniolo.
Pictured here is my mom, Pua Case, and the waʻa (canoe) Makaliʻi on the start of their voyage to Mokumanamana. In 2019, the double-hulled canoe voyaged to the islands northwest of Nihoa called Mokumanamana, a sacred place in Hawaiian culture. This voyage was tracked and studied by students in Hawaiʻi schools, opening them up to the traditional way of voyaging called wayfinding.
My family is honored to have been a part of the Makaliʻi ʻOhana since it was a just a dream of Captain Clayton Bertelmann, who first reached out to my mom’s hālau (hula school), Hālau Hula Keʻalaonamaupua, to ask if they would be involved with the creation of the voyaging canoe Makaliʻi in 1994. This resulted in our hālau taking on the responsibility and privilege of composing the prayers, chants and dances that tell the story of Makaliʻi throughout the years. We are the land crew that chants to them when they embark on their journey and greets them with chants when they arrive home. The beautiful connection between the waʻa voyaging crew and the land crew is an inseparable bond that lasts generations. Although everyone has their own responsibilities, we are all there with the same love for Makaliʻi, the ocean and being a part of the revitalization of traditional voyaging. The voyaging crew consists of those who will actually be on the waʻa during voyages, but also those who help with all the behind-the-scenes work it takes to make a voyage possible. Besides the hula ʻohana, the land crew is also made up of the families of everyone involved as well as those who support and help to organize in order to keep things running smoothly.
The Makaliʻi ʻOhana is made up of Nā Kalaiwaʻa, Hālau Hula Keʻalaonamaupua, Nā Ao Koa o Puʻukoholā, Pūnana Leo o Waimea and the DOE Kupuna Program who were brought together over 25 years ago to support a vision and a mission that helped inspire the Native and local sailing communities throughout Hawaiʻi and the Pacific. The continuation of traditional voyaging and navigating like our ancestors can be seen today through programs like the Polynesian Voyaging Society, whose goal is to train and teach the next generation the traditional ways to sail hands-on through the waʻa Hōkūleʻa.
Even though the official state flower of Hawaiʻi is the pua maʻo hau hele (yellow hibiscus), the flower and color that is usually tied to the island of Hawaiʻi is the red ʻōhiʻa lehua blossom as seen in this picture. There are different variations and colors of lehua that can be found throughout the Hawaiian islands as well as having sister trees in places like Aotearoa. I've had the privilege of growing up around different native varieties of lehua as well as the one from Aotearoa because my family has them growing around our house.
This is a Native ʻōhiʻa that is in my backyard. We planted it on top of my buried piko (umbilical cord), which is a ceremonial Hawaiian practice that comes from our ancestors. Despite the plant looking like a bush in this photo, it is actually taller than our house and if grown in the right conditions they can grow 40 to 60 feet tall. Not only can it grow very big but all the different parts of the plant have different uses throughout Hawaiian culture. Sadly due to foreign insects, animals and funguses like ROD (Rapid ʻŌhiʻa Death), Native people aren't able to use this plant in the same ways and to the same extent as we used to. Despite the restriction in use of ʻōhiʻa, our cultural and spiritual connection with this plant and all it represents has only grown stronger while people continue to educate others about all the aspects of the ʻōhiʻa lehua tree.