3.3.4. Ko in the Contemporary Period ¯

The efforts to revive knowledge and use of ko have resulted in enhanced interest and awareness, ¯ such as the inclusion of five Hawaiian ko cultivars in Slow Food's Ark of Taste, multiple feature articles ¯ chronicling ko diversity [ ¯ 168–170], and vibrant exchanges in social media groups. Significant growth in the cultivation of ko has occurred, with an unquantified, but substantial, increase in backyard farmers ¯ and the incorporation of ko into small-scale diversified production. One issue remains in that, unlike ¯ most other crops, sugarcane is not easily prepared at the home-scale as it requires, at minimum, a press to extract the juice for use.

The enhanced availability of the ethnographic and agronomic aspects of ko have facilitated ¯ emerging industries. Processors and restaurants have incorporated cane juice into products, and the establishment of multiple rhum agricole (alcohol directly distilled from sugarcane juice rather than molasses or sugar as is the case for most rums) producers has led to increased markets for sugarcane production in Hawai'i. The growth of these industries has occurred as the last sugarcane plantation in the state closed its doors at the end of 2016. This has led to significant cultivation of the heirloom varieties, and it is safe to say that more Hawaiian ko varieties are being grown today than at any time ¯ in the last 100 years.

The current challenge is to ensure the continued use of ko in the growing markets, and to ensure ¯ that it is done in a proper way. Some producers have latched on to ko cultivars because of the rich ¯ history and stories that make for good marketing of products, while others exclusively grow ko because ¯ of cultural connections. Despite this, few care about the identity of the source cultivar. Research into the nutritional qualities of pure cane juice, which is high in antioxidants, micronutrients, and has half the glycemic index of processed sugar, clearly indicates that heirloom sugarcane cultivars in general offer greater health benefits, although specific studies examining ko have not yet occurred. Steps have ¯ been discussed to form an appropriate group to represent the ko, and, in particular, to safeguard the ¯ cultivars from excessive commercial exploitation and ensure appropriate giveback from the economic benefits derived from the cultivars and cultural knowledge regarding ko. ¯

#### *3.4. 'Awa—A Cultural Treasure*

#### 3.4.1. Dominance and Fate

'Awa (*Piper methysticum*) is a multi-functional plant in the broad categories of ceremony, medicine, and recreation. Cultivars of 'awa may be restricted for use in a narrow sub-category or may be used in all categories. Prepared as a beverage, nothing else was more commonly drunk other than water and coconuts. Names, traditional uses and practices associated with 'awa in ceremony and medicine are embedded in legends and chants and were recorded by Hawaiian and foreign scholars [34]. Upon first arrival to Hawai'i, the ancient gods of Kane and Kanaloa set about searching for springs so that they ¯ could indulge in 'awa; although the land was dry, Kane struck the earth with his staff and water gushed ¯ forth [171]. 'Awa played many roles, but was dominant in Hawaiian ceremony, being considered the favorite of the gods [172,173]. The act of drinking 'awa was important in maintaining the link with one's 'aumakua (deified ancestors) and 'unihipili (family spirits) [ ¯ 1]. For warriors, farmers and fishermen, it was a tonic to relax the mind and body in everyday use [172,174] and it is this factor that may have contributed to its survival into the 20th century.

Yet Western contact challenged and eroded the strong biocultural relationships developed during Hawai'i's centuries of isolation. By the mid-1820s, Western ideologies and Christianity adopted by Hawaiian ali'i eventually resulted in de facto banning of 'awa production and consumption and churches did much to discourage the use of 'awa [172]. In the early 1900s, Hawaiian 'awa still could be found in great groves within the forested places of the islands abandoned by the collapse of the Hawaiian population in the 1800s. Entrepreneurs were given leases to harvest 'awa on lands under the jurisdiction of the new Territorial Forestry Department [175] contributing to the gradual mining of historic 'awa groves as availability and usage declined. Today alcoholic beverages have largely replaced 'awa as the traditional drink among many Hawaiians [172,176].

#### 3.4.2. Revitalizing 'Awa in Hawai'i: A Grassroots Effort

Due to the decades of decline in production and consumption, Hawaiian 'awa cultivars, and the knowledge associated with them, were in danger of being lost. After seven years of searching remote areas to gather planting material and document heritage 'awa plantings, often with the Hawai'i Biodiversity and Mapping Program, a backyard nursery was started in 1992 which has grown into the Alia Point 'Awa Nursery (APAN). In 1994, APAN's donation of 'awa plants to a Canoe Club ¯ fundraiser in Hilo provided an introduction to Jerry Konanui. A friendship was established and a partnership developed to restore and enhance the understanding of Hawaiian 'awa here in our islands and the world.

Our first project was with the Center for International Research in Agricultural Developments, Vanuatu and France, to research and publish a comprehensive study of all known Hawaiian 'awa cultivars—DNA, kavalactones, and morphology. The data clearly demonstrated that Hawaiian 'awa cultivars are exceptional [176]. The publication of these data coincided with the desire of the Rural Economic Transitional Assistance-Hawai'i (RETA-H) program to inspire 'awa growing in Hawai'i.

The Association for Hawaiian 'Awa (AHA) was created in 1997 for research, education and preservation of the cultural and medicinal values associated with the 'awa plant, and as a vehicle through which funding to support conservation and education efforts related to Hawaiian 'awa could be sought. RETA-H funded a program of AHA-led educational workshops on Hawai'i, Maui, Moloka'i, O'ahu and Kaua'i. AHA also published a quarterly 'awa newsletter. These years of re-building the historic significance of 'awa involved the efforts of many individuals from a wide range of ethnic, social, economic and educational backgrounds.

**Figure 5.** Hawaiian 'Awa Cultivars: 8 of 13 known cultivars of Hawaiian 'awa: Top (L to R): Pana'ewa; Papakea, Kumakua, Nene. Bottom (L to R): Hiwa; Uliuli a opulepule no ho'i (also known as Hanakapi'ai); Opihikao; Mahakea. Photos by Ed Johnston.

#### 3.4.3. 'Awa Growing: Boom and Bust

In 1992, the authors of *Kava, the Pacific Elixir* [177] (p. 96) declared "'Awa is now a relic of traditional Hawaiian culture—an uncommon but attractive plant that can be found for sale as an ornamental in a few commercial nurseries." Six years later this was no longer true. By 1998, the unique Hawai'i cultivars were well characterized and being planted throughout the state (Figure 5). By the early 2000s, an estimated 200 acres of 'awa were in the ground, with the largest acreage on Hawai'i Island. Larger farms were Wainani Farms, Ho'owaiwai Farm, Hawaiian Pacific Kava Company, Pu'u'ala Farm, and Kulana Ki'i. Most of the smaller farms were in Puna. Pu'u O Hoku Farm/Ranch was the major grower on Moloka'i. Most Hawai'i 'awa farmers were keenly aware of cultivar names and often devoted sections of their plantings to specific cultivars, a practice rarely done in other Pacific Kava growing regions.

During the decade prior to 2004, kava was becoming very popular worldwide as a dietary supplement. Pharmaceutical companies were buying metric ton quantities of dried kava for extraction from the South Pacific and Hawai'i growers at prices much higher than the traditional drink market, encouraging early harvesting, sloppy processing and adulteration to meet market demand and grasp the price windfall. During this period, kava dietary supplements became linked with liver injury in some individuals. Health advisories from national agencies such as the US Food and Drug Administration about potential hepatotoxicity associated with kava did not distinguish between supplement and beverage preparations as the source of the problem. The traditional water-based beverage market was thus not only adversely affected by higher cost for product, but it also was tainted by the broad-brush definitions used to warn of possible liver damage [178]. The market crashed worldwide and nearly all Hawai'i farms closed. Three exceptions, at that time, were smaller farms who primarily produced fresh frozen 'awa pulp using modern chopping and straining machinery for making the traditional beverage (originally by chewing the root to a fine pulp, mixing with water and straining through the sedge, ahu'awa).

Despite more than a decade of research into the possible causes of liver injury associated with kava, there is still no clear understanding of mechanisms by which hepatotoxicity could occur. During the time since the first cases were reported, kava has continued to be consumed both as a supplement and as a beverage, but new cases of hepatotoxicity have not been reported. The Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (UN FAO) and World Health Organization (WHO), in a review of the safety of traditional and recreational kava beverage consumption, concluded that there are significant gaps in the knowledge about kava's effects on health, but that "There is little documented evidence of adverse health effects associated with traditional moderate levels of consumption of kava beverage, with only anecdotal reports of general symptoms of lethargy and headaches" [179]. An editorial in the *Journal of the American Medical Association* further noted that: "Historic use shows that kava is safe under the strict control of the rituals of Pacific cultures. The traditional beverage is consumed on a daily basis without apparent adverse effects, and kava cultivars considered as noble ones have a long tradition of safe use" [180]. Noble cultivars are cultivars with history of safe, traditional use. All Hawaiian 'awa cultivars are considered noble. This is an example of traditional knowledge being right all along. Given that the majority of evidence suggests traditionally prepared 'awa beverage is safe, AHA has been working with the UN FAO and WHO's *Codex Alimentarius* to add the Hawaiian cultivars to their safe foods and beverage list. This is an on-going effort, not yet completed.

#### 3.4.4. Envisioning How to Sustain and Increase 'Awa Growing and Use

Currently in Hawai'i there is a growing market for quality fresh frozen and dry 'awa, and the revival of traditional knowledge has supported a market for single strain products using traditional varieties. The release of quality ethnobotanical resources has been essential for grower knowledge. Until recently, the authoritative volume on Hawaiian 'awa was a 1948 publication *Kava in Hawai'i* [172]. This collection of information was built upon in 2004 in *Hawaiian 'Awa: A study in ethnobotany* [174]; and most recently the Association for Hawaiian 'Awa released its original studies and 'official' varietal documentation in the free publication *Hawaiian 'Awa, Views of an Ethnobotanical Treasure* [34] (online at www.awadevelopment.org).

Hawai'i must grow more of its own 'awa cultivars if preservation of these plants is to be successful. Education is critical in understanding the role of 'awa in Hawaiian history and what important research

is currently occurring with 'awa beverage in a healthful lifestyle. In the past, much of 'awa research focused solely on kavalactones—often extracted with solvents producing a fragmented product far from the traditional aqueous beverage so revered across Oceania. The 'awa beverage is much more than just the concentrated kavalactones found in extracts and pills. Dr. Amanda Martin published a study [181] which revealed high levels of variation in chemical content and cytotoxicity of such commercially available kava products. These findings support the traditional knowledge of 'awa as a beverage, not a pill. As Martin [182] has said: "It's not necessarily that more is better. What you're looking for is the right amount. And with kava an aqueous solution produces the right amount."

### **4. Discussion**

### *4.1. Connecting: from Restoring Cultivar Diversity to Restoring Abundance*

Several themes emerge from the cases examined. Each plant, regardless of function as staple food, medicine, ceremonial or agronomic resource, embodies a sacred relationship with a key role in Hawaiian society. As Hawaiian populations declined and underwent major societal change in the 1800s, each crop experienced a decline in cultivated area and inventory of native varieties, and those that became market commodities were displaced by introduced varieties. Internationally, the loss of local varieties is among the four factors identified by the FAO as threatening traditional agricultural systems, livelihoods and food security (along with unsustainable models of agriculture, land access pressures, and climate change) [183]. The historical threats to Hawai'i's indigenous crops and sustainability mirror challenges faced by communities around the world.

Despite the decline, a resurgence in interest and revitalization of food and food production systems extends across all four crops, albeit at different stages. Traditional crop cultivar diversity was conserved for decades in ex situ collections for largely research purposes while in situ and ex situ revival and restoration of crop diversity was driven by significant individual and collective community-based efforts external to these institutions. The renewal of crop cultivar uses and values was fed by and feeds cultural revival and involved intensive community and farmer engagement, local entrepreneurship, and strong advocacy at the grassroots level. Each case reminds us that the recent recovery of these ancestral crops emerged out of peoples' desires to restore their relationships with plants, foods, and places.

Table 1 summarizes actions across the four cases as five strategies relevant to the contemporary restoration of Hawai'i's indigenous crops: revitalize and regenerate knowledge of cultivars, return them to the landscape (in situ), protect and steward, restore biocultural relationships and heritage, and resilience and abundance. Each case illustrates how various types of research and collaboration have played a role in the resurgence, from the curation and recovery of living cultivars and archival records to the shift from ex situ conservation settings back into the hands of cultural practitioners and farmers so they can be cultivated in situ. Community stewards, educators, collections managers, agricultural extension agents, families and farmers have all participated in the return of kupuna crops to the landscape through varied pathways. Although not discussed explicitly, in all four cases, the voices of kupuna through mo'olelo (stories), the sensory experience of taste and smell, and the familial ¯ experience of preparing and sharing foods are all important elements of remembering and rekindling interest in such crops.

The expansion and diversification of cultivation evident in the examples of kalo and 'awa commercial plantings also illustrate how shifting perspectives from global back to local, and reconnection with kupuna crop traditional knowledge, can result in products better aligned with traditional values, practice, and use (e.g., pa'i 'ai; fresh 'awa root). Such products not only resonate with consumers, but also diversify direct-to-consumer and value-added markets for farmers to choose from, raise farm-gate prices, and restore honor and dignity to the livelihoods of small growers, a strategy that is gaining ground world-wide [122,123,184,185].

**Table 1.** Strategies supporting biocultural restoration of indigenous crops in Hawai'i and creation of resilience and abundance. Values in the four columns reflect the current state of progress for each crop (5: advanced, 1: in infancy, x: occurring but not assessed).


<sup>1</sup> The first four subheadings are borrowed from Tuhiwai Smith's (1999) twenty-five indigenous projects [20].

Workshops, celebrations, and festivals create a multiplier effect that increases outreach and awareness. For kalo and 'awa, annual festivals provide opportunities for community members to gather and reconnect as well as exchange knowledge and cultivars. As gathering places, they embrace youth, local communities, farmers, visitors, and the general public as consumers and supporters. Celebration is recognized as a vital regenerative act in many cultures where festivals and agricultural ceremonies persist, including those that call the rain and mark harvests and planting seasons and which are highly refined systems that coordinate agricultural activities with natural cycles (e.g, the Hawaiian makahiki season, the Ngan Bongfai of Northeast Thailand, the royal rites and duties of the ploughing ceremonies of India and Southeast Asia, or the many agricultural rituals of the Ifugao [186,187]). Celebration is also recognized among many indigenous NGO groups as an important element in rekindling people's interest and passion for conserving indigenous crop biodiversity (e.g., Fiesta del Maíz of Mexico and the Indigenous Crop Biodiversity Festival which paralleled the IUCN World Conservation Congress in 2016). Art and the art of growing and preparing food entice, engage, inspire and stretch the boundaries of our senses and view of indigenous crops as merely agricultural products. Farmer-to-farmer mentoring, working one-on-one with collections managers and individual

researchers reclaims expertise back into community and suggests a model for balancing roles and guiding research efforts [188–190].

The enthusiasm surrounding indigenous crops resurgence can, however, generate new problems when steps to avoid old patterns of abuse of indigenous knowledge and resources and people are not made. As the kalo case revealed, the seemingly laudable effort to increase disease resistance and yields through purely technical fixes met with strong opposition (ku' ¯ e; resistance and protest) from members ¯ of Hawaiian and farming communities, and conflict escalated through the institutional privileging of intellectual freedom over the multiple concerns voiced by community members. Advancing legislation and proposing policy to protect kalo required exhaustive and committed effort to educate communities and decision-makers. The parallel example of the 'awa boom and bust highlighted how export-driven commodification ultimately left small growers with fewer market options and how, conversely, sustainable solutions can be found in heeding traditional knowledge and use in the modern context. Both cases illustrate the capacity and power of strong networks to overcome local and international judgements.

As interest and acreage in ko and 'uala expands, the kalo and 'awa lessons point to the importance ¯ of centering and prioritizing the kinship and stewardship relationships of each plant. These cases remind us that a kuleana to a reciprocal and familial relationship to these plants places us in service to the needs of the plants, i.e., tending to soil health, planting and harvesting at proper times, listening, remembering names and mo'olelo and proper usage, sharing abundance. By giving primacy to this relationship, we suggest ethical, acceptable, and sustainable practices, markets, and research can naturally emerge to restore indigenous crop biodiversity and sustainable food systems. Ultimately, such an approach is respectful and acknowledges not only the generations who developed and diversified these distinctively Hawaiian crops, but also the work of the many farmers and caretakers, storytellers, recorders, and families, Hawaiian or not, who have stewarded and continue to care for these kupuna crops today. Across the five key strategies, awakening to the kuleana of caretaking these crops evolves for some into 'onipa'a, a steadfast protection of a treasured resource embedded in cultural identity and a deep commitment to the work of recovery. Maintaining both kuleana and 'onipa'a in the long term, as in the example of Jerry Konanui, provides leadership, vision and inspiration that guides the larger network of collaborative efforts. Resilience and abundance are both a perception from within community and an overall goal. For Pacific islands, in particular, ensuring cultivar survival in the face of climate change and increasing hurricane frequency involves establishing collections and propagation projects across multiple islands with multiple partners. The cases also tell us that fulfilling local market needs is still a long way off (e.g., while lands in kalo and 'uala production have increased, to put them on the table of every family requires thousands of acres of land and water not yet accessible). Kalo farmers are noted for the abundance they share with family and community (food, time, knowledge) that contributes to 'ohana and community wellbeing. This has also transferred to guiding the next generation of young farmers and researchers together—a reflection of both kuleana and envisioning the future.

While our cases highlight steps toward reinvigorating and restoring traditional agriculture across Hawai'i, we can look to the Parqe de la Papa in the Peruvian Andes for a model of biocultural heritage restoration where the repatriation of traditional potatoes, agrobiodiversity, and community-led solutions are underpinned by cosmologies of kinship (cosmovisión) [191,192]. The FAO's Globally Important Agricultural Heritage Systems Programme [183] provides a model of more intact biocultural heritage landscapes now threatened in the face of economic globalization that might be adapted and leveraged locally to afford better protections for traditional agricultural systems and the knowledge and lifestyles they support. We also learn from challenges and solutions of Ifugao rice-growing communities in the Philippines as traditional rice varieties enter global markets as commodities in an effort to save the heritage landscape [187,193]. Ficiciyan et al (2018) make a case for the complex set of ecosystem services that traditional crop varieties provide [194] which raises important questions

about the resilience of such biocultural heritage to climatic change [195] and the role of biocultural innovation in generating new possibilities in the context of modern economic forces [196].

#### *4.2. Reframing Kupuna Crops Research—'Auhea Ko Kuleana? ¯*

Kuleana is defined by Pukui and Elbert as a "right, privilege, concern, or responsibility," as well as conveying title and authority (e.g., over land) and the liability attached to that [89]. We define kuleana as to be in service, to practice and exercise accountability, commitment to a reciprocal and familial relationship such as that exemplified by the metaphor of Haloa [ ¯ 58]. Noted cultural practitioner, Sam Kaai described how when kupuna talked about 'aina it meant family, not land, with that same ¯ reciprocal relationship bringing the circle back to Haloa. Kuleana in the context of this paper would ¯ mean putting mana (spirit energy of character) [197] into the care of indigenous crops. By contrast with the largely transactional exchanges of modern life, it necessitates a sense of reverence for living beings and the histories that created them. In more straightforward terms, it implies taking seriously the work attached to these plants, including attending to associated complexities and ethics, and to 'aina. ¯

#### 4.2.1. Reflecting on the Lessons of Haloa ¯

Given broad interest in Hawai'i to return to greater local food production and sustainability, we suggest researchers and institutions must shift from the dominant perspective that indigenous crops are merely "genetic resources." Of note is Governor Ige's promise on the stage of the IUCN 2016 World Conservation Congress to double Hawai'i's capacity to grow food by 2030. To move in this direction, we examine the kalo conflict to identify pathways towards more pono (ethical) research protocols and investigator practices (pono is a core concept in Hawaiian decision-making and action, [198]). However, the restoration of pono (ho'oponopono), a prerequisite for moving forward, requires willingness to acknowledge previous wrongs and make good faith efforts to correct them.

The conflict over patenting and genetic modification of kalo exposed a key underlying issue with indigenous crops research at the University of Hawai'i. The rush toward biotech solutions for kalo and the ensuing struggle revealed vastly different worldviews held by university researchers and members of the taro farming/Hawaiian community which were not considered prior to the formation of the research proposal. For some, the cultural significance of kalo (and other crops) means that many activities are simply kapu (taboo), and that plants, animals and the environment as a whole cannot be owned and should be treated with the utmost care and respect, just as any other member of the family [112]. That local taro growers' concerns also went unheard suggests that researchers continue to see farmers and stakeholders as largely *recipients of* rather than *partners in* the research process or *knowledge keepers* from whom they should seek direction, and thus their perspectives are also not considered in the development of research priorities.

Thus, while we agree academic freedom is an important value for public educational institutions to protect, we contend that deploying this defense in the kalo controversy was a straw man and ultimately a means of shirking institutional responsibility to consult and engage with a diversity of views. We challenge such institutions instead to provide space to discuss the limits of so-called "academic freedom" in the context of their local communities and to address, on a truly open and proactive basis, the hotspots and complexities where ethics, history, culture, and power dynamics meet research agendas, and to consider them holistically in terms of both individual and institutional kuleana.

More immediately, a starting point for restoring trust and laying the groundwork for future collaboration is acknowledgement that there are many ways of knowing. Within the metaphors and poetry of indigenous languages and lifeways often exist astute and practical observations and decision-making logics relevant to contemporary study of agriculture and sustainability [183,199,200].

#### 4.2.2. Acknowledge Different World Views, Objectives, and Time Frames

We suggest that an openness and willingness to listen, hear, and understand different worldviews is necessary to enable deeper empirical insight and also mend historic rifts and wounds. By listen, we mean to be attentive to, or have heightened perceptiveness towards people and research "subjects," which is enabled by actual care—the kind one provides to family members, hence the indigenous metaphors of kinship. A productive exchange might also acknowledge that the modern researcher is often bound to short timeframes of observation while indigenous/local communities tend to be concerned with both immediate survival and livelihoods as well as much longer (intergenerational) windows of observation and outcomes where empirical insights guide decisions to benefit a broader set of individuals over decades and lifetimes. The cases we describe result from the work and commitments made by various individuals to care for a given crop, reaching far beyond any job description. This extends to other indigenous crops not discussed in this paper ('ulu, mai'a; breadfruit and banana) as well. As the successes of crop recovery efforts in Hawai'i indicate, an effective collaborative relationship among academic researchers and members of indigenous and farmer communities recognizes the value of indigenous kinships and the importance of active stewardship of these. How can meaningful and respectful "hybrid" approaches inform—or transform—agricultural research and practice?

#### 4.2.3. Exercise Individual Accountability

Researchers, whether indigenous or not, come with varying identities such as outsider, insider, ally, and everything in between. They must navigate their roles and, in the case of working with indigenous and local communities, may have minimal experience or guidance on how to do this effectively. In general, the onus to build trust is upon individual university researchers working with indigenous and local communities who must recognize the differential authority they are afforded through titles (PhD, etc.) and affiliation. This often comes with a default assumption that they are "expert" even when community members are the keepers of biocultural knowledge, which raises another important aspect of discussion: the need to recognize and respect different forms and sources of expertise. The kupuna crops in this paper illustrate that tremendous expertise is held by cultural practitioners, farmers and other skilled knowledge holders outside of academic institutions, whose knowledge and experience are all too often marginalized by mainstream cultural norms. These forms of knowing can be fundamentally different than that familiar to the researcher, and the complementarity has the potential to provide mutual benefit if partnerships can be established. It is imperative that researchers, particularly those at large public institutions such as universities, recognize such indigenous or local knowledge and acknowledge its caretakers.

At the same time, members of rural, farmer, and indigenous communities may be hesitant to trust representatives of research enterprises and Western educational systems that have played a role in historic dispossession or marginalization [20,201]. This adds another layer of complexity to exchanges, as researchers are all too often unaware of these histories or are poorly equipped to collaborate effectively and find themselves stepping into existing wounds. Individuals can begin fulfilling their kuleana by learning the history and context of their respective place, and drawing guidance from research protocols and best practices including, for example, the International Society of Ethnobiology International Code of Ethics [202], the University of Otago Pacific Research Protocols [203], the still-developing University of Hawai'i Kulana Noi'i initiative [ ¯ 204], and the Taro Task Force 2010 Legislative Report [61]. Many resources providing guidance on research ethics exist online (for example, see [205]). Simply investing time in relationships though good faith discussion and scoping early in the process is also critical. Effective collaboration would involve asking and receiving permission, keeping in touch, engaging throughout the process, openly sharing outcomes and returning results in a timely manner, based on core principles of participatory action research [206]. We suggest researchers learn history, read broadly, listen openly (including to silences, an early form of dissent), make time for face-to-face interaction, be humble, and pay attention. Such practices are common in social sciences research; applied here, protocols and kapu accompanying indigenous crops establish kuleana at the beginning of a more informed research scoping process.

In the years since the massive community pushback over the patenting and genetic modification of kalo, few changes have been institutionalized at the University. The advocacy and efforts of Taro Security and Purity Task Force members did, however, lead to creation of an Indigenous Crops position within CTAHR, but true institutional commitment to change remains to be seen. For example, the publicly articulated CTAHR philosophy on agricultural technologies still states: "We uphold the values of academic freedom and respect the rights of farmers and consumers to decide which technologies are most appropriate." [207] Absent are the specifics of how "respect" is enacted, or explicit acknowledgment of the rights of Hawaiians and other indigenous peoples in maintaining and stewarding ancestral germplasm, and how these translate to University decisions. Depsite the disconnect between UH CTAHR and indigenous perspectives in agriculture, change continues along consumer, farmer, economic and cultural pathways.

4.2.4. Formalize Institutional Support, Policies, and Practices for Improved Accountability and Collaboration

While the development of a taro research policy responsive to farmer needs and concerns remains unfulfilled, the Taro Task Force report [61] provides a template for work better aligned with community-identified needs which can be extended for indigenous crops in general. UH Manoa ¯ is the largest public research institution in Hawai'i and was founded as a land grant college on ceded lands by the Hawai'i Territorial Legislature. Although it historically has had a complex and often contentious relationship with members of the Hawaiian community, in 2002, the University's vision statement included the statement, "Manoa celebrates its diversity and uniqueness as a Hawaiian place ¯ of learning." [208] We interpret this as the institutional recognition that UH is situated within a broader context of Hawaiian history and community. Yet persisting attitudes that traditional knowledge and ethnographic research are less valuable and less rigorous than research utilizing modern technologies continue to privilege academic research over community-held expertise. Our cases illustrate the need for a more egalitarian approach and, indeed, a recent initiative to promote greater researcher responsiveness to community needs and collaboration has begun to advance this discussion on the UH Manoa campus [ ¯ 204]. We observe such efforts are often initiated outside of the university and championed by individual (and often untenured) faculty, staff, and students sometimes with significant risk of retribution. Recent strategic planning documents including a proposal to improve cultural competency among faculty and staff [209] and the recent appointment of a Native Hawaiian Affairs officer could signal an institutional shift. Historically, however, the operationalization of such recommendations is usually met with institutional resistance and requires pressure [210,211]. Beyond policy, an institutional mission to serve the public good in the context of Hawai'i must allow for discussion and change of course, especially when working with matters concerning indigenous and farming communities and where free, prior, and informed consent [212] has not been obtained before embarking on a project. Helping researchers avoid conflict could involve developing an Institutional Review Board (IRB)—like process for working with indigenous crops that effectively holds researchers accountable for considering implications of their research early in the process. A less top-down approach involves institutional support to train researchers in ethical best practices, such as those described earlier, and increase researcher awareness and understanding of local (see other articles in this issue) and global biocultural diversity and heritage conservation/restoration and biocultural design [183,187,191–193,196]. Such an initiative could facilitate opportunities for collaboration and innovation provided trust is present.

Institutions interested in continuing work with indigenous crops must also explore ways to support staff and researchers committed to longer-term collaborations with indigenous crops or communities since developing relationships necessary for collaboration requires significant time and energy. In addition to the cases presented, we note the work of the Breadfruit Institute (also home to the Global Breadfruit Initiative), whose long-term commitment to protecting and honoring cultivar origins goes beyond conservation to maintaining indigenous knowledge associated with each variety, along with agreements for sharing breadfruit varieties and ensuring benefits from distribution return directly to Pacific nations. The two-year grant, pressure to "publish or perish," and the existing tenure review process prioritizing these can strongly deter researchers from pursuing rewarding but time-intensive relationships and collaborations required for this work.

#### *4.3. Kanu: Envision, Plant, and Cultivate with Intention*

A fitting metaphor for productive collaborative work with kupuna crops is Kimmerer's (2013) description of the Three Sisters of corn, beans, and squash [201]. In this, she describes the mutualism made possible when traditional ecological knowledge (TEK) stewarded by indigenous/local communities and scientific knowledge of the academic research community engage in respectful and productive relationships. The elder sister of corn (TEK) is planted first and is the foundation of life, providing food, medicine, materials, and spiritual health. Beans as the metaphor for curiosity-driven scientific ecological knowledge (SEK) whip tendrils as they stretch and climb, reliant on the corn and unable to stand on its own. The plant's nutrient-acquisitive nature provides nitrogen to the corn, and its searching roots can unearth soil resources and bring them to the surface. Left unchecked, however, its excessive growth can take over the garden and choke out all else. Kimmerer asks, "What would knowledge generation look like if we created a mutualism in which the climbing 'beans' of scientific inquiry are guided by the 'maize' of indigenous principles?" The third sister of squash embodies "the climate of mutual respect, intellectual pluralism and critical thinking in which both knowledges, TEK and SEK can grow." The low, spreading layer of leaves, by cooling the soil and suppressing weeds, fosters conditions necessary to the symbiosis, Ermine's "ethical space of engagement" about which he writes "The ethical space, at the field of convergence for disparate systems, can become a refuge of possibility in cross-cultural relations ... for the effect of shifting the status quo of an asymmetrical social order to a partnership model between world communities." [213,214]. Yet, Kimmerer observes, "the squash is the slowest to germinate, and when young requires the greatest care." The role of the fourth sister is thus critical. "She's the one who noticed the ways of each species and imagined how they might live together ... We are the planters, the ones who clear the land, pull the weeds and pick the bugs; we save the seeds over winter and plant them again next spring ... We too are part of the reciprocity." Kimmerer's metaphor provides us a vision for how various worldviews might work together productively to support restoration of kupuna crops.

If those working with kupuna crops are the fourth sister, they/we must recognize the choices made shape the future of our kupuna crops and have important implications for the trajectories of our institutions, our landscapes, and communities in which we live. Below, we suggest general themes to guide pono decision-making:


indigenous/farmer scientists, and garner greater public support. Farmers working from their own fields, and within the context of the natural environment and the production methodologies they use, are often well positioned to define questions for both pure and applied research [189,190]. Such a return to center might give rise to more thoughtful attention to issues of invasiveness, economies of scale, and resistance/resilience to natural disasters and climate change. Interest in longer-term solutions may emerge such as integrated pest management, better soil management, crop cultivar diversification, fallowing regimes or other more ecologically and culturally informed approaches, as well as innovative infrastructure, market and supply chain models. In this approach, community members are partners in the research process, and, we suggest, can and should be empowered to hold the greatest opportunity possible to shape research directions.


#### **5. Closing**

The history of ancestral Hawaiian crops is complex. At the same time, there has been tremendous renewal of interest in restoring their original cultivar diversity and strong community-driven revival of knowledge, germplasm, production, and traditional practices associated with these kupuna crops. Although individual and institutional actions ignited and exacerbated the kalo conflict, other efforts and partnerships to sustain ex situ collections have been instrumental for the return and revitalization of cultivar diversity of the four kupuna crops examined here. Moving forward, we suggest reconciliation is needed along with more informed and thoughtful protocols for researchers and research institutions engaging in work with Hawaiian crops. We envision institutions and collaborations that are based on

a foundation of respect for plants, culture, and people, that work proactively to protect and steward kupuna crops, and that thoughtfully engage with communities to collectively determine appropriate pathways and the next critical steps forward. From such an approach, meaningful and impactful programs can emerge to strengthen the ongoing restoration of kupuna crops, agricultural landscapes, and Hawai'i's communities. We end on a quote from Osorio and Osorio (2016) [127] (p. 193) outlining how such a vision might be achieved: "We need to tell the old stories and also new stories about ourselves. We need to allow people to discover themselves in the stories that describe how we live responsibly for the 'aina, our ancestors, and 'aum ¯ akua. We need to demonstrate ¯ ... the depth and richness of lives that acknowledge the spirit of other living beings and how they are a part of us. And here is the point. It really is not possible to think of a mountain summit, a fishery, a taro garden, an ulu tree, or an entire island as both a being that shares your spirit and as property in the same breath ... Ultimately, it is about reverence."

**Author Contributions:** This work was conceived by a team of individuals, each considered a subject matter expert on their respective crop and/or topic. Conceptualization, N.K.L., P.L., M.B.K., and A.K.V.; Methodology, A.K.V. and P.L.; Writing-Original Draft Preparation, N.K.L., E.J., J.O., J.B., M.B.K., A.K.V., and P.L.; Writing-Review and Editing, P.L., A.K.V. and N.K.L.

**Funding:** The APC was funded by Hawai'i Community Foundation. A.K.V. was supported by the Ford Foundation dissertation fellowship program. N.K.L. was funded, in part, by the USDA National Institute of Food and Agriculture, Hatch project HAW08035 administered by the College of Tropical Agriculture and Human Resources.

**Acknowledgments:** We dedicate this paper to Anakala Jerry Konanui, mahi'ai lepo popolo (MLP), kalo and 'awa master, gifted storyteller, and inspiration to us all. It is not possible, in these few lines, to describe all that Jerry accomplished. He had an enduring devotion to all these kupuna crops. Puhalu ka ihu, nan¯ a i ke k ¯ a'ao (One ¯ only notices the many good things a person does when it is too late to show appreciation). With regards to the Association for Hawaiian 'Awa and kalo cultivar recovery efforts, he was the heart and without his devotion we would not have had the success that we did. We are deeply grateful for the steadfast dedication to the Hawaiian kalo collection provided by Alton Arakaki that has made it possible for the varieties to reach so many people. We also dedicate this paper to the many, many stewards, mahi'ai, and scholars who have kept alive both these plants, lands, and 'ike we rely on today—amazing gifts from our kupuna that will feed us long into the future if we take ¯ up the work.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The authors declare no conflict of interest. No funders influenced the writing of this manuscript.

#### **References and Notes**


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