Kuleana: A Story of Family, Land, and Legacy in Old Hawai'i

by Sara Kehaulani Goo

Set in one of the world’s most beautiful landscapes, Kuleana is the story of award-winning journalist Sara Kehaulani Goo’s family saga to hold on to her family’s ancestral Hawaiian lands—and find herself along the way.

Along the rugged shores of Maui’s east coast lies Hana, one of the last remaining stretches of Hawai’i untouched by hotels or billionaire retreats. The 60 acres of the author’s family lands, extending from mountain to sea, were given in 1848 by King Kamehameha III.

When a property tax bill arrives with a 500% increase, Goo and her family members are forced to make a decision about the they must fight to keep the land or do as so many other Hawaiian families have done and sell to the next Mainland millionaire.

From an early age, Goo was enchanted by the land, which includes a massive 16th century temple with a mysterious past. But as the financial crisis spurs her into action, she uncovers how much land her family already lost over generations -- and the larger story of displacement of Native Hawaiians.

The author transports readers through the dark colonial history of the islands and takes them along as she learns to hula and reconnect with her culture. Only then can she fulfill her “kuleana”—a word meaning responsibility and stewardship, carried through the generations.

Part journalistic offering and part memoir, Kuleana interrogates deeper questions of identity and what we owe those who come before us and after us. Goo’s breathtaking story of unexpected homecomings, familial hardship, and fierce devotion to ancestry writes a new story about Hawai’i, its native people, and their struggle to hold onto their land and culture today.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, History, Audiobook, Biography, Indigenous, Biography Memoir

368 pages, Hardcover

First published June 10, 2025

About the author

Sara Kehaulani Goo is a journalist and senior news executive who has led several news organizations including Axios, NPR and The Washington Post. She is the former editor-in-chief at Axios, where she launched the company’s editorial expansion into national and local newsletters, podcasts and live journalism. Before Axios, she led online audience growth as a managing editor at NPR, overseeing the newsroom's digital news operation. Goo also served as news director at The Washington Post, where she also served as a business editor and reporter. Originally from Dana Point, California, she graduated from the University of Minnesota's journalism school. She lives in Washington, D.C.

Reviews

[Chloe R · Rating 5 out of 5]

AYEEE 10/10 would recommend to a friend. (I’m the author’s daughter.) I love this book sm and I’m so proud of her for finding a way to talk about her experiences and struggles with culture, land and Hawai’i. READ ITTTT

[Mai H. · Rating 4 out of 5]

I didn't start off liking this. It felt a little holier than thou, but a memoir is a memoir, and it's hard to judge another person's depiction of their own life.

Sara admits she is 1/8 Native Hawaiian. It's truly not my place to judge how indigenous someone is. What does it mean to be Hawaiian? How much Native Hawaiian blood does it take to "count"? What is the difference between heritage and identity?

Her sister feels differently about being Hawaiian. Things offend her less. She is more practical than emotional. Can two sisters with the same Southern California upbringing feel differently about how Hawaiian they feel raising their children in DC?

I learned a lot about kuleana, ohana, and the connection to the land. The Hawaiian housing plight sounds a lot like the Californian one. I'm not sure a lot is being done about either.

While a lot of this deals with land tax increases and bad governing by a colonial government (the American dream, am I right?), I felt more connected to Sara's family story as a whole.

I did get annoyed when she tried to guilt trip her kids into wearing leis when they clearly didn't want to, but I'm not a mother. Your kids are their own people, and I think you should let them express themselves to an extent.

🎧 Thank you to NetGalley and Macmillan Audio

[Brendan (History Nerds United) · Rating 5 out of 5]

It is important in any book to make sure the reader is on your side. Finding something universal to say can make a great immediate impression. Sara Kehaulani Goo does that in her book, Kuleana. That universal truth is... everyone hates taxes.

Oh, it is also about family and tradition, but we all hate taxes. The impetus for this book is a skyrocketing tax bill. Goo's family was given a plot of land on Maui by the king(!) before America decided that Hawai'i didn't want to govern itself anymore. After that, there was a concerted effort to eradicate Hawaiian culture and recently, billionaires began gobbling up land and driving housing prices through the stratosphere. (For shame Oprah, Zuckerberg, Bezos, Ellison, and I can't keep going. The list is super long.)

However, that is just the setup, and the heart of the narrative is family and tradition. This part of the story truly shines because Goo is not afraid to ask hard questions of herself. She is descended from various cultures, but the Hawaiian in her is where she wants to truly identify. You'll notice I used "wants." Goo is the first to point out that she is not a native to the islands and has spent most of her life on the mainland. When she goes to Hawaii, she would not be considered native. It would be the same thing if I went to Ireland and said I am Irish. I would be promptly thrown out of the bar.

Goo's attempts to connect with her roots are a huge part of the story. Goo does her best to make that connection to Hawai'i while passing it on to the next generation. Anyone who has a happy place (looking at you, Cape Cod) knows that feeling of relief when you arrive. Goo gets that feeling every time she steps off that (ungodly) long flight. She wants to truly belong and wants to earn it.

The final aspect is the messiness of family. Passing down plots of land is complicated. Within generations, a parcel of land can have dozens of people who can lay claim to it. Getting that many people on the same page is difficult even when there isn't remote Maui property at stake.

Goo looks at all of these factors and is honest about them. Asking people to shell out thousands of dollars for land they might never see is understandable even though holding on to the property is a spiritual quest for the author. She also doesn't fall prey to navel gazing. I can't even count how many memoirs make the mistake of being completely self-centered and myopic (yes, I needed to check and make sure I was using the right word). Instead, when Goo takes the time to leave her family behind on a fact finding mission on the islands, she takes the time to voice how guilty she felt leaving her husband and kids behind for the (relatively) short trip. It is a very small moment among many that let me know as a reader that Goo took the time to consider all sides of this story. I guess you can take the journalist out of D.C., but she'll still be a journalist.

(This book was provided as a review copy by Flatiron Books.)

[Jonathan · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is at its best when it talks about the history of dispossession in Hawaiʻi—very clear, compelling explanations of the ghoulish way the government has orchestrated massive land theft from the people.

But I struggled with other aspects of the way this book was set up. The chronology is so scrambled, with threads running all over the place; I kept wondering how it would have felt to read this book if it just started in the author's childhood and moved forward from there, or maybe even just starting from 2019 and moving forward from there with brief flashbacks. But there were so many times when a chapter would cover 2020-2022, then the next chapter would start in 2019 and cover 2019-2022, and then another chapter would jump back in time and start in 2001. It just made the whole thing feel muddled.

There was also a significant amount of repetition, which I think is at least partially a result of this scrambled chronology; the author explains the same concept or expresses the same doubts/concerns (often in the form of chapter-ending rhetorical questions) multiple times, sometimes almost word-for-word.

Worth reading for sure, but some questionable execution.

[Shirleynature · Rating 5 out of 5]

This passionate memoir celebrates family, wild lands, and Indigenous Hawaiian culture. The author includes a brief history of the once independent sovereign Hawaiian Islands. The title Kuleana is an Indigenous Hawaiian word meaning both responsibility and privilege. This is a clear-eyed reckoning of the injustices endured by Native Hawaiians via colonialism, land loss, and the economic challenges of property taxes from rising real estate values. Most Indigenous Hawaiians cannot afford to live on the Island. And many Hawaiians who are living on the Island are house-less. Goo’s family and neighbors become involved and more connected when the property taxes rise 500 percent on their family’s inherited land, land gifted 200 years ago by one of the last Hawaiian kings. Her family works creatively to hold onto the land with this new tax challenge. This life-changing experience compels Goo to learn more of her heritage, including language. A brief glossary of Hawaiian words is included in the back of the book. Sara Kehaulani Goo is a journalist and senior news executive. She’s led news organizations including: Axios, NPR, and The Washington Post. Click here to visit Sara Kehaulani Goo's website to learn more.

https://lplks.org/blogs/post/stories-...

[Dayna · Rating 1 out of 5]

I had much different expectations of this book than other readers. My interest was land rights versus the land grabs that have bilked indigenous populations of their basic rights & property as seen through the experience of the author's family. However, this isn't really broached in some depth until about midway through the book, & how these raw deals had been made (& their subtext) cannot be answered due to lack of detailed documentation. Yet this is but a short section of the book, though the threat of losing family land looms throughout. The family is a microcosm of the socio-political scene: how these contentious issues created divisions within a family also mirror the disunity of local groups, even OHA itself, where factions become more enamored of control & power than the greater good & living pono. (Hello, Congress. You, too.)

The book as a whole seemed more an extended Xmas newsletter, with ample details about food (what & where), not just in Hawai'i but in DC. Any situation seems a pretext to mention food (hungry while driving? lucky to have a piece of dried mango in one's pocket), though perhaps it's better to be someone without fear of or shame about eating given how the media has brainwashed us with unrealistic body image expectations. In fact, it often seemed like a guide for future tourists who probably don't care about the problems hidden by the lush landscapes & sunshine. The book has too much Mainlandsplaining, which may not be so bad to do to other Mainlanders, but is highly annoying to locals.

I was genuinely elated that things worked out for the family. I only wish the land issues had been given higher priority over personal life.

[Tala🦈 (mrs.skywalker.reads) · Rating 4 out of 5]

kuleana is one of those words that can’t really be translated; it’s something like responsibility, but also care, connection, knowing what you owe, where you stand, and what will come after you

sara kehaulani goo builds everything around that, but in a way that feels lived, not explained. i learned a lot, but it never reads like it’s trying to teach you. hawai‘i isn’t framed as something distant or “other” either. the whole time i kept thinking how much of this connects to larger systems — colonialism, extraction, inequalities, the usual — and how familiar that actually feels, even far from the islands

the family stories make it real and personal. they ground everything, give the ideas something real to hold onto. it’s personal without being self-centered

it does get repetitive. some chapters feel like they were written separately and then just placed next to each other, so certain points circle back without really deepening. and honestly, i was less interested in the details of the author’s journalism career that are separate from this story, those felt a bit off to the side

it shifts how you think about place, responsibility, and who gets to define both. i learned so much and recommend everyone to dive into hawai’i’s history and culture

and, as usual, fuck the us

[Toby Hopstone · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was not impressed with this book. It is hard to believe that the author was a longtime journalist for WP, NPR, and Axios. A great deal of the writing was redundant. Additionally, a strong editorial hand would have improved it. Some descriptions of Maui were evocative. Some descriptions of family conflicts were mildly diverting. But I would not recommend. The writing was like an undergraduate’s—so simplistic, and repetitive.

[Edie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fascinating account of one woman's relationship to her heritage and the land which connected her family to Hawai'i. Sara Kehaulani Goo is a journalist, she uses both her sleuthing and writing skills to tell her and her family's story. Along the way we get history lessons, pandemic musings, family drama, and cultural explanations. I was invested from beginning to end. Thank you to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for the audioARC.

[Carlita · Rating 5 out of 5]

Absolutely incredible read. I loved this. I would like to read more from this author.

What a ride this was. I loved learning about Hawaiian culture, land issues native Hawaiian people are facing and everything in between.

This was fascinating from beginning to end. I highly recommend this one if Hawaiian culture is of any interest you you.

[Paige · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have some nitpicks, but overall this was beautiful, enlightening memoir/history of family’s relationship with their native Hawaiian ancestry and the land they own on Maui. I highly recommend if you’ve ever wanted to think about Hawaii a little more deeply.

[Tonya | The Cultivated Library Co · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thoroughly enjoyed this memoir/exposition on Native Hawaiian culture and history. Goo's quest to reconnect with her culture and hold onto her family's land is admirable. The writing is engaging and accessible to even the most reluctant nonfiction reader. I learned so much about the challenges facing Native Hawaiians in modern Hawai'i. It is heartbreaking and something to consider, especially for those traveling to the area.

Kuleana is a definite must-read for those who love Hawai'i and want to preserve what makes those islands and the culture so special.

Special thanks to @flatiron_books for the complimentary copy! All thoughts and opinions are my own and provided voluntarily.

[olive ⭒˚.⋆ ⚔ .ᐟ · Rating 2 out of 5]

Part of me struggles to rate this book as it was a grand exercise in expectation management, patience, and understanding. I picked up this book expecting more of a historical lens into the past of Hawai'i nei (nei here meaning reverence, respect, and deep love), but instead found a memoir that detailed connection to the land with the occasional history lesson and familial exploration, and most often the inner world of Sara Kehaulani Goo and her tumultuous relationship with identity — mostly in regards to her Hawaiian heritage, koko (blood), and ancestry.

On the grounds of memoir (of which I am less familiar — a smattering of biographies and the rare autobiography that buoyed me through the occasional term paper in junior high and high school were few and far between), I found myself often mystified by Goo's choices in the telling of her narrative. As a reporter, her matter-of-fact tone was semi-engaging for the first half of the story, delightful during the few moments she was detailing history, and clear when she occasionally dove into law and politics, but generally lagged being recursive story beats and repeated concepts. Goo often skipped around the timeline of what she was detailing — in 2001 one moment, then 2016 the next, a jump back to 2012, then 2023, 2020, back to 2016 again — and because of the temporal dissonance, often had to repeat large swaths of what was detailed a chapter ago (and three chapters before that), which lead to much of the story dragging as knowledge we had been holding for 6 hours was delivered once again as revelation. While at first this non-linear approach to the memoir was interesting, at around the halfway mark, I longed for direction; especially as an audiobook, the story lacked enough direction for me to trace burgeoning growth or new understanding. All at once we were at peace with what was happening with her family's land, and deeply uncertain about it. At present, I cannot tell if this is a feature of her story telling rather than a bug; it detracted from some of my sympathy, is a firm statement I do feel comfortable expressing.

As for her family's land, the majority of this story is a play in two: (1) Goo's family owns land in Hāna, on Maui, given to her family as part of a greater land parcel given to her ancestors by King Kamehameha III himself, one day the property taxes unceremoniously increase by 500%, and her family scrambles as they try to fight against this in a myriad of tax evasion schemes, much heartache, and despair; (2) Goo's deep, internal struggle with her personhood and identity to her Hawaiian culture — both as an individual, a person in society, and as a spouse and mother to her children.

The first act of that story frustrated me the most, as it became increasingly clear throughout the narrative that Goo used her non-linear narrative style to obfuscate the fact that her family was one of means — certainly more means than many kānaka maoli living on the 'āina — and had many more resources and options available to them that they decided to not exhaust (or that Goo did not care to write about, in favor of crafting a more despondent narrative). At multiple points in the story, Goo's family spends thousands of dollars going to and from Hawai'i (from East Coast Mainland to Maui) to learn more about the land or to develop one (1) acre of its sixty (60) to qualify for a different tax bracket; Goo details the way her parents dabble in real estate by house-flipping across multiple states as a living; and in general she shares information about her occupation, lifestyle, and more that hint at her having the ability to pay the taxes on the property for at least 10 years without having to do any further saving, but the narrative quickly pivots to another time and place in the history of her life, then details history and current events about the Hawaiian population and diaspora that try to create a sense that the situation facing Goo's family is the same as kānaka maoli who have lost their lands for generations because they live on the island and can barely afford a two bedroom rental, let alone acreages of land that have never been developed. It felt distinctly dishonest to present her family in this way — even if those are her feelings — especially as the narrative progresses, in the later chapters, to move away from the lived reality of what Hawaiians on Hawai'i nei are experiencing in the postcolonial world, and more into ruminations on belongingness, which would always fire up statements about how important it was to keep the land in family hands, because it's their kuleana (responsibility) to be stewards to it.

My question for Goo is this: Is it fulfilling kuleana, alone, to have ownership of the acreage? Is kuleana satisfied by simply saying, "this land is mine" and then failing to care for it (at multiple points she mentions how their single acre of farmland would not be able to be sustained, as all her family are off the island, and yet not a single thought is given to hiring a local to care for it)? Kuleana to the land is about more than ownership — Goo herself writes this in this very book — it is about caring for it's overgrown jungle, bringing back native plants, having a reciprocal nature with the land, and helping it's people: mālama ka 'āina. At multiple points in this narrative, I saw avenues for the Goo family to work with people on the state, private, and personal level to make use of this land — not in the way a haole would, but in a way that would benefit the people, land, and legacy of Hawai'i nei. Instead, we leave the story with the family getting the tax break they were after, at long last, and nothing else. There is no greater plan for the land they own rather than the holding of it, and it feels as though Goo is saying: this is enough, this is my kuleana. I cannot help but disagree. At what point is her family holding onto the land and doing nothing to care for it simply inaction, perhaps not detrimental to the 'āina, but certainly nothing beneficial.

The second half of the story was something I was more equipped for handling, as I, too, am a part of the Hawaiian diaspora and occasionally wondering if I am doing enough to be considered Hawaiian at all. On occasion, I found Goo's struggle with finding community relatable, her wrestling with desire to learn and shame for not already knowing something deeply sympathetic. Other moments, however, I could not help but feel that her fundamental conception of kuleana — one that, to me, often lacks aspects of community responsibility and care — was the blindspot that made her suffering all the more acute. In the story, she takes on enormous responsibility for her children's connection to their identity, and it is often in a way overwhelming. I feel it is because she does not trust that her children will grow up in a world that will push them to discovering their heritage all their own — I, personally, have found that my connection to my culture was not something that was or ever could have been ham-fisted, pushed onto me — it's something that surrounds you, and you slowly pick up, ascribe meaning to, and find pride in all your own. Goo's daughter not wanting to wear a lei to her 6th grade promotion is not a fundamental failing of Goo's parenting, it's a burgeoning preteen realizing differences among her peers and being hyper aware of them, right on schedule. Goo laments over moments like these, and they detail a majority of the final half of the narrative, all while seemingly overlooking the moments in which her children do show great connection to their culture — a desire to go to summer camps with Kamehameha schools that are about Hawaiian culture, participation in a hula halau, etc. It's a stunning lack of reckoning, as the story largely leaves this whole second thesis unresolved and without reflection, Goo ends the story no more certain of her ability to raise her children with Hawaiian culture, and only a marginally more strong self concept, seemingly connected entirely to her family's ability to have gotten the tax break they needed on their home.

As someone aware and deeply sympathetic to what colonization did to Hawai'i and it's people, I will never say that land should be taken away from kānaka maoli, no matter how much koko they have; blood-quantum is a fundamentally broken and foreign way of looking at belongingness to a cultural group, and as I am not Goo and am not part of her family, I will not speak to how Hawaiian she and her family "really" is. I don't care for those kinds of politics. However, what I will say at the end of reading this story is that I fear the main heart of the story, it's thesis over kuleana and what that word means, is still wanting. I feel I know Goo, but not truly whether or not she has a connection to the land that extends beyond the ownership of it — a simple deed.

2.5 stars, but I'm rounding down.

[E.C. Pollick Byrnes · Rating 3 out of 5]

The first 15% of this book is absolute fire. Honestly if the entire book was written more along this line, I think I would have absolutely loved this book. But the story got rather repetitive the longer it went on. In fact there was a lot of harping on the idea of legacy and identity but it wasn't told in a particularly new or nuanced way as the story progressed. It just seemed to be repeating things the author has already expressed to us.


She has this weird obsession with making sure her kids are Hawaiian enough. Like I think she spends an unhealthy amount of time thinking about this.


This book devolves into therapy journal by the end. It really lost the thread for me. I wish it mimicked the first part of the book, where the memoir was interwoven with stories of Hawaiian history and put into context of the low-key unspoken American colonialism.  It is very much more memoir than nonfiction, which makes it feel like a journal rather than a full story.

[Katy O. · Rating 5 out of 5]

A must-read history of Hawai'i from a Native Hawai'an perspective, a family story of land, and an indictment of the horrible treatment of locals by colonial America all the way up to current America. I can’t recommend this highly enough, especially for those Americans who like to vacation on the islands and who may not understand the true cost of colonialism and tourism. This is a nonfiction historical account, a personal memoir, and a tough look at heritage, housing and ownership on the islands.

Source: library hardcover

[Steph | bookedinsaigon · Rating 2 out of 5]

Audiobook DNFed at 47%. I wanted to like this one since I want to learn more about the effects of American imperialism on Hawai’i. But between being a memoir and being a piece of investigative reporting, KULEANA leaned way too much into the former, becoming very maudlin and slow and repetitive at times with her recounting of her family relationships, her career as a journalist on the East Coast, and her childhood memories. It did not give enough information for me on Hawai’i and the challenges of native land ownership.

[Leslie Rawls · Rating 3 out of 5]

So much promise. I appreciated the glossary of Hawaiian terms and learning some about the islands and their people. But the book dragged at times, leaving me to quit 2/3 of the way through. It was due back at the library and I wasn’t inclined to keep reading.

[Dina Samimi · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a great intro into Hawaiian history, culture and native dispossession. The book is strongest here. The memoir portions ran a bit long and were repetitive. Goo’s family story is really remarkable, just wished it was a bit tighter and flowed better.

[ReadingTilTheBreakOfDawn · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I lived in Hawaii, I was always fascinated with the land and culture surrounding the islands. I made sure that my kids also knew the importance of the language and the history of the land we lived on. So when I saw Kuleana was the author's personal story about the land and her attachment to the culture through her ancestors, I was immediately drawn to in.

Sara Kehaulani Goo's story all stemmed from a huge tax increase on her family's land in Hana on the island of Maui. That's where the story begins. But then she takes us back to her own personal connection, her grandparents especially, the history of the land being doled out centuries before and the family that still lives there and how everyone tries to come together to keep the land with the family and no outsiders. With cultures being erased before our eyes in our current state of affairs in the US, this book was special in that we get to see how a culture is still trying to thrive in a country that has all but taken it away. But Sara, along with her family and previous generations have been doing anything to keep the land and its history as was requested by her grandmother.

I liked that way the author incorporated her own personal story with very relevant topics concerning land, money, and mainlanders changing the Hawaiians way of life. We get to see this woman look into a history she didn't know much about and learn more about the language, her family and her connections to a past through her research. Having lived in Hawaii for 10 years, I really liked that I could connect with the language and it was easy to follow for me. If you're not familiar with the language or history, Goo does a great job with a pronunciation guide and easy to read history of the land.

This may be one woman's story, but it is definitely a story of so many Hawaiians. I think this is a nonfiction book that will definitely appeal to Hawaiians who have left the islands because they could not afford it. It will really connect with them. And if you're not Hawaiian, it's not only a wake up call, but will help you understand Hawaii from a different perspective. I didn't always like the way the timeline of the story went (it jumped around a bit), but it was easy to read and all made sense. I liked that we got the author's life not only in DC, but how she still kept her culture alive with her kids and finding Hawaii where she lives in the mainland.

Overall a good book and would recommend.

[Amaris Castillo]

For generations, Sara Kehaulani Goo’s family owned a vast area of land along the coastline of eastern Maui. It was given to her ancestor by King Kamehameha III in 1848. “And for the most part, this land has remained exactly as it was some 175 years ago,” the longtime journalist writes in her debut memoir, 'Kuleana.' “Raw, undeveloped, wild.”

Then one Monday night in 2019, Goo got an email from her father. The property tax bill on the land was increased by 500%. If they couldn’t find a way to pay, he wrote, they may be forced to sell. Goo felt like the ground beneath her shifted. So began a fight to keep the family’s land, and a personal journey for Goo as she returned to Maui, reconnected with her relatives and learned how much generations of her family had already lost.

'Kuleana' is a richly layered story that is part reportage and part memoir. Goo delves into questions about Hawaiian identity and the meaning of legacy and details the urgency with which she felt the need to act to save her family’s land.

“All I knew was, I didn’t want to be the last one whose name was on this ledger,” Goo told Poynter. “And I know that my father didn’t want to either, and I knew that my brothers and sisters and my cousins didn’t want to, either. There was too much at stake. This was not about real estate. This was about family and lineage.”

I spoke with Goo for Poynter about writing her debut, Hawaiian representation in mainstream media, and more. Read on for our full conversation: https://www.poynter.org/reporting-edi...

[Corrine · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was so good. I started a physical copy before my trip and got to part 2, then switched to the audio narration by the author. The first two parts laid the land with an overview of some of the hardships Hawaiians face today on Maui - housing, climate change, workforce. When I went to Maui I really took the author's story to heart - what was my kuleana as a visitor to such sacred land? - supporting small businesses, minimizing my carbon footprint, respecting the land and culture and people, and pausing to feel the spiritual connection with the land in Hana and Haleakala National Park. It is so beautiful there, there is a feeling of other worldliness. Returning and listening to the audio was perfect because I could orient myself to the author's journey back to Hana and even some of the named locations, like St. Mary's church. Her family's rally to protect the land and preserve Hana and history is heartbreaking and inspiring all at once.

The author's voice and message is strong, her journalism background helps this story have a clear, supported narrative that provokes many emotions. As she found her way back to her roots and culture you can't help rooting for her, her family, the people of Maui, and all of the people in similar situations with their identities. It's a truly beautiful and moving story that will be with me for the rest of my life.

"malama aina. it's our kuleana."

[Emily Spangler · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars rounded up. This book was quite fascinating! I learned a lot about the history of Hawai'i and the atrocities inflicted upon it by colonialism and capitalism. I appreciated Goo's journey of self-discovery, leaning what it means to be Native Hawaiian and how that manifests not only in her identity but her family's legacy to protect their land. The most interesting parts of the book, to me, were the Hawai'i history/genealogy bits and the detailed sections of the fight to keep their land in Hana. You can tell Goo is a great reporter, because I think her stronger writing is with the more general nonfiction sections, as opposed to the more personal, memoir sections. She's great at effectively paraphrasing what I'm sure are very nuanced, complicated historical events. I do think the writing was repetitive at times, and I sorely wanted years indicating the beginning of sections/chapters -it was a bit confusing jumping around the timeline so much.

[Aneesa · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is sold as an investigation of and fight for ancestral lands. And part of it is that. It includes information about Hawaiian culture and history, but nothing I didn't know from my previous reading*. I would recommend it to people who are interested in this topic, but not so interested that they've already read up about it.

What this book turns out to be is a very personal memoir about culture and identity. How is one's identity created and maintained? What is one's responsibility for passing down culture, especially a culture that will be lost if not passed down? How do you instill kuleana (responsibility and belonging) in the next generation? How does living through a pandemic emotionally tie you to ancestors whose numbers went from 683,200 to 37,656 due to epidemic after epidemic brought by colonization?

Also, it is quite long for what it is.

*Except that after the prohibition on teaching the Hawaiian language in schools, and the subsequent revival, Hawaiian language speakers went from 2,000 at its lowest point to 18,000 at the writing of the book.

[Caity · Rating 4 out of 5]

Part memoir focusing on the authors journalism career and journey with their identity…Part introduction to how the American empire affected Hawai’i

The most impactful part of this book was the discussions of the authors struggles with identity; honoring and embracing her native Hawaiian ancestry while living on the mainland and having mixed heritage. I think her candid talk about how her identity struggles affected both every-day and life-changing decisions (like the names she gives her kids) will resonate with many people!

Personally, from my bias as an archaeologist, I wish she included more on the heiau and native Hawaiian history. But I appreciated her honesty when she talked about how difficult it was to understand the archy papers (yeah… she has a good point there lol).

I felt like her book was lacking a bit on discussions of class impacts. EX: Although she admits that her side of the family is wealthy (her dad could support the family’s ancestral land on his own) she criticizes distant cousins who live in Las Vegas for choosing to sell their portion of the land they inherited. She will acknowledge how colonialism affects her own family and those she knows on the island, but doesn’t extend that understanding to family she’s never met. It felt like her and her family assumed malicious intent when that family who chose to sell may have been struggling to keep afloat and couldn’t afford to live in or maintain a property on Maui.

That section as well as the lack of connection to Native American (and an almost pitting-struggles against-each-other pov) history soured me on the book a bit…. However overall it was a good read and a good introduction to issues that often go unnoticed while people are vacationing on the islands.

[HANNAH · Rating 4 out of 5]

Goo’s memoir on identity and connection to Hawai’i also provides a good intro to how Hawaiian systems of land tenure, stewardship, and division have changed to be one of privatization and displacement of Kanaka Maoli. This was a nice read, especially having just worked with the Nation of Hawai’i on their sovereignty movement and ahupua’a restoration!

I will say that some of Goo’s anecdotes (specifically about living in DC) felt a bit out of touch, and at times, the memoir felt a bit repetitive with sections of her narrative that didn’t feel super cohesive.

[laurel [the suspected bibliophile] · Rating 4 out of 5]

I know next to nothing about Hawai'i, so this was a lovely memoir/history about Goo's family and the people of the Hawaiian islands, specifically that of Maui and the town of Hana.

This is a story of land theft over two centuries, and how Goo has fought to reclaim her own heritage of being Hawaiian while her family fought to retain the lands that had been in their care for two hundred years.

I really enjoyed it, and learned a lot. It's a story of imperialism, colonialism, and capitalism.

[Julie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Another book that will stay with me forever! The author (Big respect) told an impressive story about the difficulty of keeping ancestral land while living far away!

It’s heartbreaking how many Native Hawaiians can’t afford to live in HI., and many move to Las Vegas! Ugg!
Missionaries, sugar cane plantations,and people with too much money have impacted the beauty & culture of this enchanted land and it’s beautiful people!

[Natalie Park · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 stars

[Kenzie O’Neill · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love learning about things that weren’t on my radar, and this falls into that category. Super interesting and moving. Also this Hana Highway sounds terrifying lol

[Shelby Banaszak · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful look into Hawaiian culture and land while also highlighting Hawaiian history.