Imua!

By Alex Keone Oldroyd, 2nd year MDP student

Last year I wrote a very optimistic post on this blog about the power of transformation in the face of disaster. When I revisit that post today, especially the line “I like to believe there is no loss, only opportunities for change,” I can’t help but chuckle, not because I now think what I wrote was naïve (even if it was quixotic), but because after a year of the pandemic it’s hard not to feel like part of me has been lost.

Months of zoom fatigue, social distancing (read: isolation), temporal distortion, pandemic overwork, executive dysfunction, and emotional fatigue gave me some serious burnout this winter. It was hard not to give into feelings of self-doubt and the despair of spending so much of a critical time in my life under pandemic paralysis. What would all of this mean for my future?

In my winter, it hardly felt like there was any sort of “transformation” that could come from wasted time. The me that last year believed that even amid disaster there was opportunity for constant progress now believed that this season of difficulty would dog me for decades.

Fortunately, both versions of me are wrong.

Burnout isn’t an easy thing to overcome. It usually begins with acknowledging that you’re burnt out, setting boundaries, taking time to reflect and rest, and rediscovering and refocusing on the meaning of your work. I’m fortunate that I had understanding professors, a strong support network, and a built-in change of pace at the end of the semester. But ironically, the thing that has helped me most is my field placement.

This summer I have the honor of working for Kamehameha Schools, a prominent Native Hawaiian private school system with a strong focus on community and deep connections to my own family history (my grandfather served as a headmaster for KS, and we are descended from the school’s founder). At first, I wasn’t sure how I would handle as serious an undertaking as a field placement after a difficult academic year, but the chance to work for KS was a gift too great to refuse.

My work is with the Strategy Intelligence team, whose mission is to keep KS futures-ready as the organization educates the next generation of Kanaka Maoli leaders and deepens their impact on the lāhui. My role is to provide research and engagement support on several strategic priorities from COVID-19 vaccination efforts to measures of economic wellbeing and beyond.

The work so far has been rewarding, but I feel I’ve gained far more than I’ve given. My mother likes to say that whenever she returns to Hawaiʻi her “blood sings.” That’s the best way I’ve found to describe my experience this summer. My placement has helped me reconnect with my sources of strength that have been eroded by the pandemic: a sense of purpose and momentum, mentorship, the ʻāina, the lāhui, my ancestors, and more. Staying connected to those sources are what will help me avoid future burnout and persevere amid an ever-uncerain future.

Iʻm less eager than I was before to claim that there is no loss, only opportunities for change. My ancestors knew well that sometimes the only way to make progress on the ocean was to go backward. They also understood that life has its cycles and seasons. Transformation is not a linear process of constant upward progress, but a cycle of growth and flourishing and decay and loss.

And if after disaster and burnout no transformation has come? Well, sooner or later the seasons change.

Going Global During the Pandemic

By Alexander Keone Kapuni Oldroyd, 1st year MDP student

We all have stories of how the COVID-19 pandemic turned our lives upside down, stories of lost jobs, lost travel opportunities, cancelled graduations, postponed weddings, ruined vacations, of quarantine restlessness and isolation. Many of us may yet hope to avoid catching the virus, but none of us is untouched.

In times like these I try to remember the first law of thermodynamics—energy can neither be created nor destroyed, only transformed from one state to another. When things break bad, I’m often tempted to dwell on the things I’ve lost, the things that have been “destroyed.” My field placement in Colombia? Gone. My sister’s wedding? Ruined. My conference presentation? Cancelled. But the truth is, all of these opportunities and plans haven’t really been destroyed, just transformed. In their place are new opportunities, new plans to be made, different experiences to have. In the grand scheme of things, I like to believe that there is no loss, only opportunities for change.

When all my plans for the summer fell through, it was difficult at first to see how this crucial time in a grad student’s life between their first and second year could be salvaged for me. Gradually though, new perspectives and prospects to fill my time replaced the old ones. I realized this was the perfect chance for my wife and I to drive down to Texas to quarantine with my family, who we weren’t expecting to see much this year. Classes were moved online and jobs that we couldn’t have accessed before due to geography were suddenly available remotely. My sister found a way to hold an intimate and beautiful wedding ceremony that we will never forget. Best of all, I was able to find an excellent new field placement with Carol Anne Hilton and the Indigenomics Institute.

The Indigenomics Institute works with Indigenous nations and organizations, governments, and private industry to strengthen Indigenous economic capacity and achieve Indigenous economic and community objectives. My role has been to help lay the conceptual groundwork for an upcoming Global Indigenomics Initiative, which will bring together Indigenous peoples from all over the world to promote global Indigenous economic resurgence.

I’m also preparing the Institute’s 2020 10-to-Watch List, a series of articles highlighting 10 remarkable Indigenous and Indigenous-focused organizations and innovators working to build the Indigenous economy in Canada (I also helped create the inaugural 2019 10-to-Watch-List). My work has brought me into contact with some amazing changemakers and taught me much about the state of affairs for Indigenous peoples all over the world. In a time where I’m stuck in one place, it’s poetic to take such a global perspective.

Remote work has its difficulties. There’s no replacing the camaraderie and direct mentorship of working on-site, but I have been able to develop greater independence and self-reliance, and my work-life balance has never felt better. In the beginning, I often had a hard time focusing and staying accountable, but I’ve found that diligently scheduling my day, keeping track of my hours and activities, and setting goals for myself helps me stay productive. Working through this pandemic has helped me develop new competencies that I might not have otherwise.

I’m grateful to Carol Anne Hilton and the Indigenomics Institute for helping make my summer feel like a success, and I’m glad for the chance to practice resilience and adaptability. Here’s to many more messy and transformative seasons to come. 

My workspace over the summer, along with my co-worker Appa (right). We work well together.