“Our ancestors lived here for two thousand years, supporting a population of over six hundred thousand people with zero imports,”
Kamuela Enos says. What MA‘O students gain, in addition to their experience, college degrees, and practical learning, is a bond with this heritage.
Hawaiians practiced for centuries, by empowering the indigenous community to care for the land.”
Aaron Kandell Kamuela Enos, MA`O Farms director of social enterprise.
mizuna, bok choy, arugula, and kale. In an open-air shed the size of a football field, interns wash lettuce or pack MA‘O’s signature Sassy Mix of organic greens into yellow boxes bearing the farm’s “No panic, Go organic” label. They load three trucks, drive into town, and set up stalls at three weekend farmers’ markets, where they also handle all sales. “It can be terrifying!” Michelle Arasato says. “But being trusted with that responsibility—it’s so empowering.” “Working on the farm is a real-world entrepre-
neurial experience,” observes The Trust for Public Land’s Lea Hong. “Every day the students practice collaboration and team leadership in making decisions. It’s not just a farm, it’s much more than that.” This extra dimension is obvious to outside visitors
like Nancy Nelson, a recent participant on a TPL trip to the islands. “I’m a former teacher and youth develop- ment professional, and this project really reached both my head and my heart,” Nelson wrote to Lea Hong after the trip. “This model should be replicated throughout the United States. It seems to exemplify the concept of ahupua'a, the system of resource management that traditional
30 LAND&PEOPLE Spring/Summer 2012
CARING FOR THE LAND, AND EACH OTHER “The demand for organic food will only go up,” says William Aila Sr., MA‘O Farms’ chief agricultural con- sultant. Aila has spent most of his life farming in the Lualualei Valley and has leathery palms and etched crow’s feet beneath his eyes to prove it. “In the last five years, people everywhere started thinking, we got to eat healthy,” he says. This is especially true in Hawai‘i, where, according to the state’s Department of Agriculture, more than 85 percent of food arrives by cargo ship. Without imports, officials estimate, the islands’ food supply would run out in as little as ten days. One goal of MA‘O Farms is to replace this depen-
dence with self-sufficiency and the close relationship to the land that characterized traditional Hawaiian culture. “Our ancestors lived here for two thousand years, sup- porting a population of over six hundred thousand people, with zero imports,” Kamuela Enos asserts. “They were one hundred percent self-sufficient.” What MA‘O students gain, in addition to their experience, college degrees, and practical learning, is a bond with this heritage. “You have to give everything you have to make sure
the land is okay, so that it will produce for you,” reflects intern Michelle Arasato. “And then it will make sure you are okay. It’s an endless cycle.” The way we care for our food should model how we
treat ourselves and others, William Aila says. “Each of these kids, every day I hug them and tell them I love them. You have to look at them and listen. It makes an important difference.” Nowhere is this difference more evident than in the students’ rising success rate. Many MA‘O Farms interns