My FestPAC 2024 Experience – Written in English and Tongan

FestPAC 2024 - Photo: Falahola Kanongataa

As I reflect on my experience at the 13th Festival of Pacific Arts and Culture (FestPAC), I am filled with a sense of awe, gratitude, and pride. This spectacular celebration of Pacific Island cultures’ arts and crafts was more than just a festival – it was a journey of connection, inspiration, and growth that reminded me of the power and beauty of our collective heritage. Growing up in Tonga, the last remaining monarchy in the Pacific Islands, I often took for granted the rich traditions and customs that have been passed down through generations. But as I connected with fellow Pasifika at FestPAC, I came to a great realization that our experiences, though diverse, are woven together by a shared thread – resilience.

We Pasifika are not just survivors; we are thrivers. We have navigated the challenges of colonization, migration, and cultural erosion, yet our identities remain strong. As I engaged with incredible individuals from across Oceania, I was inspired by their stories, resilience, and passion for preserving their cultures. I realized that Tonga’s unique history as the only Pacific Island nation never to have been formally colonized can sometimes lead us to believe that we are isolated from the impacts of colonialism. However, this could not be further from the truth. As Pacific Islanders, we are inextricably linked across our vast ocean, and the effects of colonialism have undoubtedly rippled throughout our communities. The struggles and triumphs of our Pacific neighbors are our own, and we must recognize and honor this shared history.

The panel discussions were a highlight, as we delved into topics that resonated deeply with me – regenerating Oceania, defining a healthier Pacific, and empowering women in leadership. I was struck by the wisdom, knowledge, and dedication of the speakers and panelists, and was reminded that we are stronger together and that our cultures are not just a collection of customs but a way of life that is deeply rooted in our connection to the land, our ancestors, and each other. The performances were breathtaking, showcasing the rich cultural heritage of our Pacific nations. The Pacific Arts and Crafts villages were equally impressive, displaying the creativity and unmatched skills of our people. I was amazed by the beauty and diversity of our cultures, and the incredible talent that lies within our communities.

At the end of FestPAC, I felt a sense of pride and hope for the future of our Pacific Island communities. I knew I was part of a larger movement dedicated to preserving our cultures, protecting our environment, and empowering our communities. It is my wish that as we celebrate our cultural heritage and identities, may we also acknowledge the complex and often painful history that has shaped our Pasifika region. I hope that my experience at FestPac will inspire and motivate others to embrace their Pacific Island heritage, to connect with their communities, and to become leaders and advocates for positive change. Let us celebrate our diversity, let us honor our cultures, and let us work together to build a brighter future for ourselves and for generations to come.

ʻI heʻeku fakakaukau atu ki heʻeku aʻusia ʻi he kātoanga hono 13 ʻo e ʻAati mo e Anga Fakafonua ʻo e Pasifikí (FestPAC), ʻoku fonu mo’oni hoku loto he ongoʻi mālū, houngaʻia, mo e pōlepole. Ko ha kātoanga faka’ofo’ofa ki hono pātoloaki e ngaahi ngāue fakamea’a mo e ngaahi anga fakafonua ‘o e ‘Otu Motu Pasifikí. Na’e mahulu hake ia ‘i ha kātoanga pē – ko ha katoanga ‘o e fehokotaki, ue’i fakalaumālie, mo e tupulaki ‘a ia na’á ne fakamanatu mai ‘a e mālohi mo e faka’ofo’ofa ‘o ‘etau tukufakaholo fakatahatahá. ʻI heʻeku tupu hake ʻi Tongá, ko e puleʻanga fakatuʻi fakamuimui taha ia ʻoku kei toe ʻi he ʻOtu Motu Pasifikí, naʻá ku faʻa toʻo maʻamaʻa ʻa e ngaahi tala tukufakaholo mo e ngaahi tōʻonga fakakoloa kuo tuku’au mai ʻi he ngaahi toʻutangata lahi. Ka ‘i he’eku kau atu ‘o feohi mo e kaungā Pasifika ‘i he FestPAC, na’a ku lava ke fakatokanga’i ko ‘etau ngaahi a’usia, neongo ‘oku kehekehe, ‘oku lalanga fakataha ia ‘e ha afo ‘oku makehe – ko hotau loto vilitaki.

Ko kitautolu Pasifika, kuo tau folau ʻi ha ngaahi pole ʻo e fakakoloniá, hikifonuá, mo e hōloa ʻo e anga fakafonuá, ka ʻoku kei mālohi pē hotau ngaahi ʻulungāngá. ʻI heʻeku fetuʻutaki mo ha niʻihi fakafoʻituitui mei he tafaʻaki ʻe taha ʻo ʻOseniá, naʻe ueʻi au ʻe heʻenau ngaahi talanoá, loto-toʻá, mo ʻenau vilitaki ke tauhi ʻenau ngaahi anga fakafonuá. Na’a ku ‘ilo’i ko e hisitōlia makehe ‘o Tonga ko e pule’anga pē ‘e taha ‘i he ‘Otu Motu Pasifiki na’e te’eki ke fakakolonia fakafo’ituitui, ‘e lava ke ne ‘ai kitautolu ‘i he taimi ‘e ni’ihi ke tau tui ‘oku tau mavahe mei he ngaahi uesia ‘o e fakakolonia. Kae kehe, ‘oku ‘ikai lava ke toe mama‘o ange ‘eni mei he mo‘oní. ‘I he‘etau hoko ko e kakai ‘o e ‘Otu Motu Pasifikí, ‘oku tau fehokotaki ta‘emavahevahe ‘i he tafa‘aki ‘e taha ‘o hotau ‘oseni lahí, pea ‘oku ‘ikai veiveiua ‘a e mafola atu ‘a e ngaahi ola ‘o e pule fakakoloniá ‘i hotau ngaahi komiunitií kotoa. Ko e ngaahi a’usia mo e ikuna ‘a hotau ngaahi kaunga’api ‘o e Pasifiki, ko kitautolu kotoa ia, pea kuo pau ke tau ‘ilo’i mo faka’apa’apa’i ‘a e hisitolia ‘oku tau fevahevahe’aki ko ‘eni.

‘I he ngaahi fealea’aki faka-penolo ne fakahoko, na’a ku mahu’inga’ia hono fakatotolo’i ‘a e ngaahi kaveinga na’e ongo loloto kiate au – ko hono fakafo’ou ‘o ‘Oseni, fa’ūtaha ha Pasifiki mo’ui lelei ange, pea fakaivia e kakai fefine ‘i he tu’unga fakataki. Na’a ku ‘ohovale ‘i he poto, ‘ilo, mo e māteaki ‘a e kau Pasifika, pea na’e fakamanatu mai ‘oku tau malohi ange fakataha pea ko ‘etau ngaahi anga fakafonua ‘oku ‘ikai ko ha tanaki’anga pe ‘o e ngaahi anga fakafonua ka ko e founga mo’ui ‘oku aka loloto ‘i he’etau fehokotaki mo e fonua, ʻetau ngaahi kuí, mo e taha kotoa pe he ‘Otu Motu Pasifiki. Na’e fakaofo ‘a e ngaahi faka’ali’ali, ‘o fakahaa’i ai ‘a e tukufakaholo fakafonua koloa’ia ‘o hotau ngaahi pule’anga ‘o e Pasifiki. Na’e fakaofo tatau pe ‘a e ngaahi koloa ‘Aati mo e Ngaahi Faiva mo e faka’ali’ali kotoa pe, ‘o fakahaa’i ai ‘a e taukei ta’ehanotatau ‘a hotau kakai. Naʻá ku ofo ʻi he fakaʻofoʻofa mo e kehekehe ʻo ʻetau ngaahi anga fakafonuá, pea mo e talēniti taʻealafakaʻatuʻi ʻoku ʻi loto ʻi hotau ngaahi komiunitií.

‘I he ‘osi ‘a e FestPAC, na’a ku ongo’i ai ‘a e polepole mo e ‘amanaki ki he kaha’u ‘o hotau ngaahi komiuniti ‘i he ‘Otu Pasifiki. Naʻá ku ʻiloʻi ko ha konga au ʻo ha ngaʻunu lahi ange ʻoku fakataumuʻa ki hono tauhi ʻetau ngaahi anga fakafonuá, maluʻi hotau ʻātakaí, mo fakaivia hotau ngaahi koló. Ko ʻeku fakaʻamu ʻi heʻetau kātoangaʻi hotau tukufakaholo fakafonuá mo hotau ʻulungāngá, ke tau toe fakatokangaʻi foki ʻa e hisitōlia fihi mo faʻa fakamamahi ʻa ia kuó ne faʻu hotau vahefonua Pasifika. ‘Oku ou ‘amanaki ‘e ue’i mo fakalotolahi’i ‘e he’eku a’usia ‘i he FestPAC ha ni’ihi kehe ke nau tali honau tukufakaholo ‘i he ‘Otu Motu Pasifiki, fakafehokotaki mo honau ngaahi komiuniti, pea ke nau hoko ko e kau taki mo e kau taukave ki he liliu lelei. Tau fakafiefia’i ‘etau kehekehe, tau faka’apa’apa’i ‘etau ngaahi anga fakafonua, pea tau ngaue fakataha ke langa hake ha kaha’u lelei ange ma’atautolu pea mo e ngaahi to’utangata ka hoko mai.

Falahola Kanongataa

Decolonizing Our Work During Asian American, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander Heritage Month and Every Month

AANHPI ‘Ohana CoE Team Collaboration

The ‘Ohana Center of Excellence on Behavioral Health for AANHPIs (Asian American, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander communities) is now in its second year. As we celebrate Asian American, Native Hawaiian and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, it is time to reflect on our past, present, and future.

Initiatives for AANHPIs often center Asian Americans. Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders are invited, only as cultural performers or are completely erased.

Simple inclusion does not mean everyone is treated fairly. The term “Pasifika” can help us understand that Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders are different from Asian Americans in their histories of exclusion, colonization, and cultural strengths.

Image of group and fishing net

Asian Americans have had a long history of exclusion in this country. Comparatively, more resources have been allocated to this community because they are larger in number and colonial processes have historically erased Indigenous peoples. Grouping AANHPIs together often means the unique challenges of Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders remain neglected. The ‘Ohana Center of Excellence recognizes that sheer numbers do not tell the story of entire communities.

Our decolonial approach has driven us to incorporate cultural and historical specificity into our community work. This serves to continually disaggregate Asian American, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander ethnic groups to understand their specific needs. This focus is beneficial to all work centering AANHPIs. 

AANHPI ‘Ohana CoE Team Making Dumplings

We are committed to continually breaking down and adjusting our center’s design, projects, relationships, and organization to address the unfair distribution of resources and lack of representation and visibility for Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders in behavioral health. We take seriously, the NHPI in AANHPI.

A Daughter’s Healing Journey of Intergenerational Trauma

Photo of Kyoung Mi Choi

“Be quiet.”
“Don’t speak up.”
“Don’t stand out.”
“Don’t be different.”
“Don’t be difficult.”

These are some spoken and unspoken messages I received from my Korean family, society, and culture while growing up in South Korea. What I realized later is that those voices continue to play an important role in my personal, professional, and social interactions in daily life.

I know I am not alone.

I’ve met many Asian women who struggle to break the silence to speak up about their own needs, rights, and experiences.

Many Asian women and girls think our silence protects us from shame, guilt, and judgment, even believing that keeping quiet keeps us safe and saves our face.

For me, the truth was the opposite.

Breaking the silence led me and my mother to experience empowerment and healing. That’s what we discovered when we started sharing our stories with each other at first and ultimately through our memoir writing.

WATCH: How did the book come to be?

Journey of Healing

It all started when I met my mother on Korea’s Jeju Island in 2019.

My mother epitomized silence throughout my life, until the night she began sharing stories about my grandmother. Her life swung wildly between poverty and privilege. She was born into a poor family and was forced to marry a rich man as his second wife. She lived through Japanese colonization and the Korean War, when she had to flee her home and lost her husband. She was left with two young children, one of them my mother.

Being resilient, my grandma started a small business in her new hometown, which was successful in the beginning. Still, she ended up losing everything again when her business partner sexually assaulted her and cheated her on a business deal. My mother’s stories shed light on my grandmother’s life before my birth; as a child, I only experienced her stoic silence.

My mother went on to share skeletons in her own closet. She spoke of fleeing her village overnight and losing her father. She surrendered her dreams of studying literature and becoming a writer. Instead, she became a nurse and later a community leader, facing gender discrimination as a single mother in conservative Korean society.

My mother and grandmother survived their tumultuous lives the only way they knew how—by enduring pain and swallowing their sorrows. After 50 years, my mother finally broke her silence on Jeju Island. As her daughter, I could finally understand my mother and grandmother. I started to connect dots, making sense of my restlessness and rootlessness.

Journey of transformation

I knew I needed to do something with all the new information and insights. I invited my mother to write a book together. Initially reluctant, wondering who’d want to read their shameful family stories, she eventually agreed, hoping her story would support silenced girls and women heal from trauma.

Once she committed, she sent me photos of handwritten notes in which she explored her trauma, emotions, and thoughts as well as the newfound energy stemming from her unexpected transformation.


I asked her to visit me and my wife in California. Again, after initial reluctance, she eventually came. She greeted Christel, my wife, with a big hug and she fully embraced our relationship, which transformed her idea of god and love.

WATCH: Why did you write this book?

One Person

During her visit I asked her what would have allowed her to make better decisions or start her healing process earlier in life.

“Having just one person to talk to,” she replied.

My mother never talked with my grandmother about hardships in her life. She explained:

“It’s not like we didn’t love each other. We just didn’t know how to talk vulnerably; we didn’t know how to listen to a painful story to support each other. We didn’t know how to encourage or comfort each other.”

She looked me in the eyes and said words I will never forget:

“Now, I have that one person in my life. It’s you, daughter. I decided to tell you about my stories, and now I have shared even more than I expected. I told you everything. I don’t feel sad anymore. I even laugh at myself and my nonsensical decisions. Now I have that one person.”

Through a stable and committed relationship with a supportive adult, her daughter, she reconnected with her younger self, restored childlike qualities and resilience, and responded to her experiences with new perspectives, self-compassion, and hope.

WATCH: What do you hope people can learn?

Collective Healing of Asian Girls and Women

As a professor at San José State University teaching counseling theories and supporting people who’ve experienced trauma, unpacking stories of trauma with my mother deepened my understanding of how intergenerational unspoken shame can emotionally mummify someone.

Through my work, I’ve met many Asian women who thought silence would protect them, but ultimately felt lost inside. I was one of them until I wrote this book. I did not know how to genuinely connect with myself. Together, my mother and I transformed our trauma into a source of love and healing.

Through sharing personal stories, women can find strength, resilience, and solidarity on their collective journey of healing and self-discovery. I hope my memoir validates, inspires, and connects many on their own healing journeys.

WATCH: full interview with Kyoung Mi Choi about her book, "The Child Behind the Bushes".

The Child Behind the Bushes is now available on Amazon!

To read more about my journey, please see my Psychology Today Blog, “Courageously and Boldly.

An Introduction to E Hui Ana Nā Moku: Harm Reduction Community Resource Guide

E Hui Ana Na Moku Featured Image

In recognition of self harm awareness month in May, we are sharing a resource developed by our friends at Papa Ola Lōkahi and Hawaiʻi Health and Harm Reduction Center called “E Hui Ana Nā Moku: The Islands Shall Unite”. This is a harm reduction community resource guide, which focuses on developing a community understanding of harm reduction, reducing the harms caused by colonization in Hawaiʻi, and introducing a cultural approach to reducing harm and promoting healing.

Who is this resource for?
Anyone who is interested in accessing Native Hawaiian resources for themselves, cultural practitioners, or behavioral health professionals who are looking for education about culturally responsive care for harm reduction.

How can I get this resource?
You can download the resource guide for free on Papa Ola Lōkahi’s website.

What will I find in this resource?
In the video below, Lilinoe Kauahikaua, Project Manager at the AANHPI ʻOhana Center of Excellence and Program Coordinator at Papa Ola Lōkahi introduces E Hui Ana Nā Moku with a tour of what you will find in this resource.

Mahina ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i

Graphic that reads: Mahina ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i

Mahina ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi or Hawaiian Language Month, celebrated annually in February, honors and promotes the rich cultural heritage of the Hawaiian language, also known as ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi.

The Hawaiian language was banned from public school systems three years after the overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom in 1893. And actively discouraged speaking ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi at home, criminalizing the Native identity and leading to generations of stigmatization in Hawaiian ʻohana (families).

In the 1970s, a revitalization of Hawaiian culture reignited interest in language learning efforts and ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i was reintroduced into public school curriculums in 1978, after the language became officially recognized in the state of Hawai‘i, due to the tireless efforts of our kūpuna (elders) and the Hawaiian language immersion movement.

The annual observance throughout the month of February aims to raise awareness about the significance of preserving and revitalizing the indigenous language of Hawaii. Throughout the month, various events, educational programs, and community activities take place to showcase the beauty and importance of the Hawaiian language in fostering a deeper connection to the islands’ history and traditions.

The allocation of Hawaiian language month came after Gov. Neil Abercrombie signed Act 28 and was the first of its kind to be transliterated in both Hawaiian and English and states (source):

"Mahina ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i. E ‘ike mau a e kapa ‘ia ana ae ka mahina ‘o Pepeluali ‘o ia ka “Mahina ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i” i mea e ho‘omaika‘i a e paipai aku ai i ka ‘Ōlelo ‘ana o ua ‘ōlelo makuahine nei la.

Translation: ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i Month.The month of February shall be known and designated as “Ōlelo Hawai‘i Month” to celebrate and encourage the use of Hawaiian language.

In observance of Mahina ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i, we have selected ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i from E Ola Mau, a Native Hawaiian Health Needs assessment that can help behavioral health and cultural practitioners better understand some terminology surrounding mental health, Hawaiian culture, and substance use.

Did you know… The original version of E Ola Mau, published in the 1980’s contained a compendium of ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi terms related to mental health and wellbeing. Many of these terms are layered with meaning beyond their surface translation. For example, the term “hei” is used for “addiction”. Hei refers to a string game played by our ancestors and even today. Literally translated, hei means – Net, snare, stratagem, ruse; to ensnare, entangle, catch in a net; to festoon with leis. Hoʻo.hei – To snare, tangle, rope, lasso; to beset with difficulties; to infatuate, be enraptured. Hoʻohei manaʻo, to infatuate, beguile; spellbound.

The meaning of ensnaring and entanglement is used to convey the deep turmoil of addiction, being ensnared in ones addiction.

‘Āina
Land; spiritual connection for Hawaiian.

Aloʻahia
Emotional stress.

Ha‘aha‘a
Humble, meek, modest, unpretentious; this helps you to be sincere and helpful; it’s humble but not mealy mouthed; its accepting of others – not having to put them down or accepting their elevation of you; it’s to be warm and respectful; relationship.

Hei
Addiction.

Hilahila
Shame.

Hoa kākoʻo
n. Ally, supporter.

Ho‘olu‘ulu‘u
To cause sorrow, grief, to oppress.

Kāwili lāʻau
To mix drugs.

Kōkua
Help assistant, helper, comforter, cooperation, support; kōkua is how you show you care about the person; kōkua is meaningful to the concept of ‘oia’i’o because this is how you give life to the aloha; it can be an exploitive thing; you can be asked to kōkua until it hurts so you need to be careful; kōkua is something you share, you give to another, to share what you have but not at the expense of your family; it is your resources or your own self, your extras, your strength and you give to others.

Kūkulu kumuhana
set to right, the pooling of strengths, emotional, psychological and spiritual, for a shared purpose.

Lāʻau hoʻohiamoe
n. Drug, narcotic, soporific, medicine to cause sleep, chloroform.

Ma‘i ma loko
Sickness from within caused by patients or family problems or misdeeds.

Na‘au
Intestines, center of intellect and emotions.

Olakino maikaʻi
Good health.

Pākela ʻai lāʻau
To overdose on drugs. Lit., take drugs to excess.

Puʻuhonua
nvi. Place of refuge, sanctuary, asylum, place of peace and safety.

How Lunar New Year is Celebrated Among Asian Cultures

Lunar New Year is a diverse and beautiful holiday that is celebrated among many Asian cultures and families. In celebration of Lunar New Year, the team at the AANHPI ‘Ohana Center of Excellence has several stories of the significance of Lunar Near Year, and how we each celebrate this time of year.

On Feb 3rd, from 6-8 p.m, at Milpitas Civic Center Plaza, the local communities celebrated the Lunar New Year with live performances by the Aimusic School, VietYouth, Cantrelle’s Martial Arts, and Tina Dance School. The local communities were immersed in the festivity during this two-hour cultural feast. We enjoyed songs in ethnic languages and the music played with traditional musical instruments. The kids were happily engaged in creative crafts including making a dragon and calligraphy (see the picture of the word Dragon written in calligraphy by my 6-years old daughter). It was a great opportunity to inspire her to learn Chinese words and Chinese culture.

The word Dragon written in calligraphy
The word Dragon written in calligraphy by my 6-year old daughter.

The lion and dragon dances were the highlights of the joyful event (see the video), which ended with a thrilling round of firecrackers. The firecrackers reminded me of all the Lunar New Year holidays that I spent in China before I came to the U.S. Many years ago, before the ban on firecrackers due to air pollution, almost every house in China lit firecracker on New Year’s Eve, while the family members get together to enjoy delicious traditional food and toast for a new year!

Ni and daughter at Milpitas Civic Center Plaza Lunar New Year celebration

Now let me make a toast to you: wish you a happy new year of Dragon, be as energetic as a dragon, and everything goes well for you. But don’t drink too much at parties. 😊 祝大家龙年,龙虎精神,万事兴“龙”!聚会时请不要贪杯哦。

Final appreciation to all the volunteers, community members, and local governments that made this event with free admission for all the communities happen. Thank you and happy new year!

The first day of the Asian Lunar New Year in 2024 is February 10, 2024. For many Asian families around the globe, New Year’s Eve, is the most important night with a tradition of gathering for a special dinner with family and preparing specific traditional foods. Many of the traditions have a spiritual aspect with a recognition of connection to ancestors, the elderly, and a celebration of children. This year New Year’s Eve is February 9th. The celebrations will continue for 15 days with visits to family and friends and the exchange of gifts of food and fruit along with red envelopes of lucky money for children. In my family, we spend days preparing food for New Year’s Eve dinner and buy gifts of food, plants, and lucky peach and plum blossom branches for neighbors and friends to be shared in the coming 15 days. We also clean our homes and family shrines to welcome the new year in good luck, health, and fortune. It is a time of renewal, a connection to the past and to the future.

Kyoung Mi Choi is a Professor in the Department of Counselor Education at San José State University, Program Specialist at the AANHPI ‘Ohana Center of Excellence. She is a regularly contributor to Psychology Today, Courageously and Boldly.

Memories of Seollal, Korean Lunar New Year

Having grown up in South Korea, I enjoyed the excitement surrounding the Lunar New Year, also known as Gujeong (구정) or Seollal (설날). Although I didn’t fully understand why we celebrated twice – once on the first day of January based on the solar calendar and again on the first day of the lunar calendar, which changes each year, I have fond memories of all the delicious dishes we had, such as Tteokguk (떡국, rice cake soup, a popular holiday dish symbolizing the gaining of a year in age), Jeon (전, savory pancakes), mandu (만두, dumplings), Japchae (잡채, a stir-fried dish made with glass noodles), and Bulgogi (불고기, thinly sliced marinated beef).

Family gatherings were filled with laughter and traditional games like Yutnori (윷놀이, a board game played with sticks). For children, it was common to wear traditional Korean clothing (한복, Hanbok) and fly kites (연날리기) with other kids in the neighborhood in the crispy cold air.

Children with Hanbok (Korean traditional cloths)
Children with Hanbok (Korean traditional cloths). Photo courtesy of Pixabay
Traditional Korean Food for Seollal courtesy of Korea.NET
Traditional Korean Food for Seollal courtesy of Korea.NET

During Seollal, we observed the special traditional bowing ceremony called Sebae (세배), where younger family members bow to their elders as a sign of respect and to receive blessings for the new year. In return, elders give blessings and money to the younger generation. I often saved the money, Sebaedone (세벳돈), received during Sebae to buy school supplies and books I desired but couldn’t afford.

Since immigrating to the United States over 20 years ago, I’ve sought to maintain my cultural connections and traditions, much like many other Korean Americans. Celebrating Seollal allows me to gather with Asian and Asian American friends and families, sharing our ancestral foods and reflecting on our immigration journeys. This sense of community and belonging is palpable among many Asian American friends and families.

I discovered that the Bay Area hosts numerous cultural events and community celebrations, providing opportunities to reconnect with my childhood memories and cultural identity. If you’re in the Bay Area, I invite you to join me in celebrating this special month with our families, friends, and communities as we honor our diverse traditions and heritages.


Here are some events you might consider attending:

The Lunar New Year is a significant celebration that holds a special place in the cultural heritage of various Asian communities, such as Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Vietnamese, Taiwanese, Mongolian, Malaysian, Indonesian, Singaporean, and more. This vibrant festivity is based on the lunar calendar and begins with the first new moon and ends on the first full moon. It symbolizes the start of a new year filled with good fortune and happiness.

This year, 2024, marks the Year of the Wood Dragon that symbolizes strength and the fulfillment of aspirations. The celebration begins on February 9th, and it is a time of cultural reflection and festivity (source).

The Lunar New Year is celebrated in various communities throughout the United States, particularly among Asian American communities. According to a Pew Research Center study, around two-thirds of Chinese, Korean, Japanese, and Vietnamese Americans participate in Lunar New Year festivities (source).

Although not an official federal holiday in the United States, the Lunar New Year is gaining recognition. This is exemplified by California’s recent acknowledgment of the event. In 2022, the state, which boasts the largest Asian American population in the country, officially observed the occasion. Governor Newsom signed AB 2596, designating the Lunar New Year as a state holiday. This allows state employees to take the day off in honor of this culturally significant event (source).

Similar strides have been made in major cities like New York, where the Lunar New Year is recognized as a school holiday (source).

The Lunar New Year has a deep cultural and social significance that goes beyond just the festivities. It has a positive impact on emotional and psychological well-being. The celebration helps to foster family bonds, social connections, and a sense of cultural identity. The engagement in traditional customs and rituals also fosters a shared cultural experience that reduces isolation and enhances social cohesion. This is especially important for first-generation immigrants, like myself, who have limited family support in the United States.

During this time, I find comfort and connection by reaching out to loved ones in South Korea and the United States, inviting friends over, preparing traditional Korean dishes, and participating in community events. All these activities help me stay connected to my cultural heritage, which enhances my emotional and psychological welfare.

Lunar New Year on the Westside of Kaua‘i

I have rather fond memories of learning cultural traditions in Hawaii, the island of Kauai specifically. I was raised on the westside of the island in a town of primarily Filipino, Japanese, and Chinese immigrants. Starting in elementary school, we regularly learned about cultural traditions of Native Hawaiians, Pacific Islanders, and the Asian immigrants that worked in the sugar cane plantations. One of my vivid memories is learning about Lunar New Year, then referred to as Chinese New Year. We learned the Cantonese greeting for Lunar New Year (Gong Hay Fat Choy) and created either decorations or accessories in celebration of the holiday. I loved learning about the lunar zodiac and feeling immensely proud (and lucky) to be born in the year of the dragon. You could feel when the holiday was approaching as the Buddhist temples and local restaurants began adorning red and gold for the holiday. Naturally then, it only feels fitting to share these memories as we are about to ring in the year of the dragon again!

Now, learning about Lunar New Year was great. But what really got me excited was the food and the lion dancers. I remember the first time I encountered lion dancers. I was probably in kindergarten at the time and so our class was seated closer to the stage. It was thrilling to hear the drums and chimes begin the performance and to see the lion on stage. Its comically large head, brilliant red and gold body, and beautifully adorned face and mane will be forever an image that I remember. I remember the tricks and comedy that happened on stage and thoroughly delighted at watching the performance. What happened next will also be a lifelong memory. To my surprise, lion came down from the stage! No longer was I a spectator but now I was an active participant. Imagine my panic as one of the performers on stage announced on the microphone, “If the lion snaps or tries to bite you, that’s okay. That’s lucky!” Little five-year-old me could not comprehend how anything biting you could be lucky. I joined my classmates in the screaming and laughing that ensued as the lion made its rounds around the students.

When the assembly was dismissed, I breathed a sigh of relief and reminded myself that the best was yet to come, food! During this time, many foods got associated with Lunar New Year but the typical roster of dishes that I remember would be: manapua (steamed pork char siu buns), Chinese pretzels, kimchi, manju, stir-fried noodles (fried saimin and pancit), and dumplings (fried wonton). These foods were always around but were especially consumed at least in our house around the time of Lunar New Year.

Besides food though, my family did not do much else to celebrate Lunar New Year. As Filipino immigrants, they came from areas of the Philippines that did not celebrate Lunar New Year. The Philippines does have a significant Chinese community that observes the Lunar New Year. The influence of Chinese culture in the Philippines dates back centuries, with the arrival of Chinese immigrants who settled in the archipelago long before the Spanish colonization. Over time, these immigrants integrated into Filipino society while retaining their cultural practices, including the celebration of Lunar New Year. Today, Chinese-Filipinos, also known as Tsinoys, play a significant role in preserving and enriching these traditions.

As the holiday quickly approaches, I am excited to continue on enjoying the festivities and foods of Lunar New Year!

What is ‘Ohana?

‘Ohana – what is an ‘ohana?

‘Ohana, Aiga, Kainga, Kopu tangata, Magafaoa, Whanau—Family, is central to Pacific communities and is part of our Pacific people’s cultural identity. While we understand the Pacific is not monolithic, there are some cultural values like family that are shared throughout. We have chosen to use the Native Hawaiian word ‘ohana and will define family through its use. ‘Ohana is most often translated as “family, relative, kin group, or to be related to”. But it can also mean “to gather for family prayers, lineage, race, tribe, or those who dwell together and compose a family.” As we makawalu—look deeper, into this concept, we can look to the concepts and root words within ʻohana.

Native Hawaiians much like other Pacific Islanders can trace their genealogical lineage back to the birth of their islands and people. Papahānaumoku earth mother, and Wākea sky father, together birthed the islands and Hoʻohōkūkalani stars. Wākea and Hoʻohokukalani together birthed a child who was still. In their sadness, they named their child Hāloa, meaning long or eternal breath. After burying Hāloa, a plant grew from the same space where they had buried their child. This plant had heart-shaped leaves and was the first kalo (taro). Their second child was also named Hāloa in honor of his older brother. Hāloa became the first Hawaiian person, and all those descended from him were fed and sustained by the kalo, his older brother. This relationship highlights the importance of teu le vā /tauhi vā an important Pacific value that describes the ongoing cultural obligation one has to tend to, look after, or nurture our families, our villages, and our environment.

When we break down the word ‘ohana – ‘oha + na. The ‘oha refers to the corm of the kalo. Native Hawaiians view the ‘oha as the root of all. We see this linkage through the genealogical story of Papahānaumoku and Wākea. After planting, the kalo can create many keiki (children) or small offshoots, yet all are descendants of the same ‘oha. This concept illustrates that in Hawaiian and Pacific Islander thinking, it does not matter how we are related; we all descend from the same lineage and are connected. Our ʻohana includes not only those who are related by blood, but all those that we come in contact with including the animate and in-animate relationships we have with ʻāina (land), elements, rocks, trees, ʻaumakua (family spiritual guardians), akua (gods, higher power), and all animals on land, in the air, and the ocean.

For Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders within ‘ohana, there are no barriers; everyone should feel safe and cared for. ‘Ohana, fosters the reciprocal relationship between kānaka (people), ‘āina (land), and akua/pili ‘uhane (spirituality). We are all one ‘ohana.

“Every cloud, rainstorm, lightning flash, ti plant, and maile vine was a body form of Kane. Rainclouds, rain, lush ferns, aholehole fish and certain types of seaweed revealed the god Lono. The god Kanaloa was represented by the deep ocean depths by squid, octopus and certain kinds of seashells” (William Pila Kikuchi, “Heritage of Kaua‘i,”

—The Native Hawaiian, February 1979, Vol. 111, No. 4, page 4).

Pono Shim, a beloved Native Hawaiian cultural practitioner, and kumu shared the teachings of Aunty Pilahi Paki concerning ‘ohana, she said, “The world will turn to Hawai‘i as they search for world peace because Hawai‘i has the key… And that key is Aloha!” Pono Shim further explained that another root of the word ‘ohana, is hana. While hana is translated as “work”, and when understood through a Hawaiian and Pacific Islander lens, hana much like teu le vā /tauhi vā is the call to act or do something.

To break down the word further, ha-na, “when we ha, breathe, we na release, set free, through akahai, grace, leaving it better than you found it. ‘O refers to of or eternal/eternity. So, when we na, we unleash never-ending grace..”

“All the members of an ‘ohana, hana forever. The concept is to honor each person’s hana. We have space for people to expand, recover, discover, innovate, and improve their hana. We Honor and need each other’s hana—that’s ‘ohana”

The term ‘Ohana has been adapted by many Asian Americans living in Hawai‘i or the West Coast of continental United States as a term more fitting than the English word “family” which tends to imply a nuclear family.

Kalo Connections across the Pacific and Asia

Kalo was not native to Hawai‘i. In fact, some of the first written records of kalo came from China, around 200 BC. The first Polynesian voyagers who traversed the oceans and settled in Hawai‘i may have carried kalo plants on their double-hulled canoes to help sustain them wherever they would travel (citation).

Kalo, also known as taro is an ancient food crop first domesticated 9000 years in Asia. Historically, taro has been a subsistence crop cultivated throughout Asia, Hawai‘i, Associated Pacific Islands, and West Africa.

Photo credit: Kumu Hula Kapuaokalani “Stacey” Kaʻauʻa – Hālau Unuokeahi