Rooted in Aloha: Uplifting Native Hawaiian Students through Culturally Grounded Special Education
Summer Ursua is a Special Education Teacher at ʻEwa Makai Middle School on the island of Oʻahu in Hawaiʻi.
How one educator is rewriting the narrative for keiki with exceptionalities through ancestral wisdom, aloha ʻāina, and the power of identity.
Background & Journey: A Calling Rooted in Culture
When I began teaching in 2016, I was moved by the disproportionate representation of Native Hawaiian keiki in special education—39% of the special education population, but only 26% of the overall public-school enrollment. These were not just numbers; these were our children—and I knew I had to be part of the change.
Becoming a special educator became a way to restore, revitalize, and normalize being Kanaka in a system that too often overlooks us. I bring Hawaiian values like lōkahi (unity), mālama (caring), and kuleana (responsibility) into my classroom, and I watch our keiki come alive when they see themselves in our mo’olele (stories), oli (chants), and ‘āina land.
Teaching Through a Native Hawaiian Lens
My Native Hawaiian identity isn’t separate from my teaching—it is the foundation. The aloha spirit—a way of life built on compassion, harmony, and love—guides how I support every student. I never look at a child as “less than” because of a label. I look at what gifts they bring into our space. I advocate from a place of strength, not deficit.
By weaving in practices like moʻolelo (storytelling), kilo (observation), and oli (chants), I help students connect to their learning in ways that feel meaningful and affirming.
ʻIke Kūpuna & Aloha ʻĀina in Practice
Our ancestral knowledge—ʻike kūpuna—teaches us that wisdom is passed down, not discovered. It’s my kuleana to share that with students. Aloha ʻāina (love of the land) helps them recognize that they are not alone—they are part of a lineage of navigators, cultivators, and scholars.
Classroom values like laulima (cooperation) and hoʻoponopono (making things right) allow students with exceptionalities to thrive in a community that sees them fully.
Place-Based Pedagogy & Identity Work
In Hawaiʻi, we are our ʻāina. I take students to our mountain and watershed we represent—not as a field trip, but as a return home. We are descendants of this land, and I want students to understand that who they are is tied to where they come from.
Using traditional measurement in math, native plants in science, or family moʻolelo in literacy, I embed culture into content. The result? Students who are not only engaged but also empowered.
Honoring the Whole Child
Culture is not background noise—it’s the foundation for values, choices, and purpose. I see each child as a living moʻolelo. I don’t teach to fill empty vessels; I teach to uncover who they already are.
Their exceptionality doesn’t define them—it's just one piece of a complex identity filled with resilience, brilliance, and gifts rooted in their culture.
Barriers in the System
Too often, our students feel they are “not enough” because curriculum centers perspectives foreign to their lived experience. For Native Hawaiian students with disabilities, this creates a double burden: navigating learning differences and an education system that marginalizes their worldview.
Our textbooks must change. Our lessons must change. Our systems must evolve to reflect and uplift Indigenous voices.
A Blueprint for Educators
Supporting Native Hawaiian students with exceptionalities means beginning with the child, not the label. I always ask three things:
- What is your name?
- Where are you from?
- What is your gift?
Names have mana (power), and it is our ‘āina that grounds our identity. Gifts are what give us our purpose.
If we honor who our keiki are, they will rise. If we center moʻolelo, cultural strength, and community, we create classrooms where Native Hawaiian learners aren’t just accommodated—they thrive.
Native Hawaiian Heritage Month: A Call to the Special Education Community
As we celebrate Native Hawaiian Heritage Month, I reflect on the wisdom and resilience of Queen Liliʻuokalani, our last reigning monarch. Even as her nation was taken away illegally, she remained ʻonipaʻa—steadfast in her love for her people, her culture, and her belief in the power of knowledge.
Her motto, “E ʻOnipaʻa i ka ʻimi naʻauao” – Be steadfast in the seeking of knowledge – calls us as educators to commit deeply to the work of inclusion, not just in theory, but in practice.
True inclusion means:
- Seeing cultural identity as an asset, not a barrier
- Integrating Indigenous knowledge systems into our pedagogy
- Recognizing that diversity is excellence
We must be more than inclusive—we must be intentional. We must be unwavering in our belief that every child’s cultural background is part of their brilliance.
To my fellow special educators: Be ʻonipaʻa (steadfast). Be the champion your keiki need. Create spaces where their culture is not only present—but celebrated. Honor the fullness of who they are, and never give up on them.
Advocate always—for your students, for their families, and our lāhui (Hawaiian people). Let us rise together, rooted in purpose, guided by aloha.