Heart of Hawaiʻi Scholarship

Working for 988 crisis line in Hawai'i has completely shifted my view of what the mental health needs are here in the islands. Growing up here as a Native Hawaiian, I have seen first hand how the mental health crisis has affected our people. From drug use, to homelessness, lack of resources, and even the neglect of mental health. I have learned that it is very important to consider that we never know what someone may have gone through or what led them to the crisis that they are in. There are many different factors that play a role in this crisis. Cost of living, food insecurity, accessibility to resources, and even basic mental health providers have major influences on the mental health crisis. Seeing my people suffer has really opened my eyes and made me question myself. Where do I play a role in this crisis? What can I do to give back to my community? One of my biggest drivers in working for the crisis line would ultimately allow me to give back to my community and my people. Being able to provide people with mental health support, crisis intervention, and even just a listening ear, has been more rewarding than I ever imagined it to be. Often with one warm conversation, an individual's sense of belonging and safety is strengthened. Growing up I've always wanted to work in a profession where I could help people. I have come to the conclusion that working in mental health is my calling. With each call, I am reminded that my communities are filled with culture and connection. One of the biggest influences that I feel I can have on someone is saving their life. I believe that by making someone feel that they mean't to be here and have a purpose is what matters the most. I have also learned the importance of meeting people where they are. I hope to make an impact by informing more people about the different services that the crisis line can provide. I hope to promote well-being and the importance of being grounded in the work that I do at the crisis line. Not many people are aware that our crisis line even exists and is a safe space for them to reach out to. My ultimate goal is to make Hawai'i a better place and make sure that every caller is heard and seen.

Essay: Carrying Aloha Into Crisis My Work on Hawaiʻi’s Front Lines As a mobile outreach crisis therapist for Hawaiʻi’s 988 Crisis Line, my work begins where most people’s comfort zones end. When a call cannot be resolved over the phone, I go out into the community to beaches, encampments, sidewalks, shelters, and hospital waiting rooms —to meet people face-to-face in their most vulnerable moments. Sometimes it’s a person experiencing suicidal thoughts, sometimes someone hearing voices, and sometimes a family in chaos. Every situation is unpredictable and often dangerous, but my purpose is always the same: to bring calm, compassion, and connection where fear and despair have taken hold. Hawaiʻi’s mental health crisis is unique and deeply layered. The people I serve are often coping with both, mental illness and substance use intertwined — and many live without stable housing or family support. The tropical beauty that draws millions of visitors here conceals the deep poverty and disconnection that affect our most fragile communities. My work has taught me that true healing doesn’t happen only in clinics or therapy offices. It begins on the streets, in the parks, and under the bridges, where someone feels seen for the first time. De-escalation requires more than training — it requires heart. I have stood between people and their pain, sometimes physically and sometimes emotionally, using patience, empathy, and body language to defuse violence and fear. I have been threatened, cried with strangers, and sat quietly beside people who have lost everything. In those moments, I am reminded that “crisis” doesn’t always mean danger — it also means cry for help. It is the opportunity to reconnect someone to hope, to dignity, and to the belief that their life still matters. My academic goal is to complete my Master’s in Clinical Mental Health Counseling at the University of Phoenix and become a Licensed Mental Health Counselor (LMHC). I plan to continue serving individuals affected by systemic barriers — people living with chronic homelessness, trauma, and dual diagnoses. Education gives me the foundation to combine field experience with evidence-based therapy, while my lived experience keeps me grounded in empathy. I live with fibromyalgia, ADHD, POTS, and spinal arthritis, conditions that often test my endurance and patience. Yet these challenges have made me more attuned to others’ invisible struggles. I know what it feels like to push through pain and exhaustion while still showing up for those who need me. My disabilities do not limit my ability to serve; they deepen my understanding and remind me that strength often comes disguised as vulnerability. Working in crisis response in Hawaiʻi has taught me that aloha is more than a greeting. It means showing up with respect for every culture, every story, and every person, no matter how chaotic the moment. It is understanding that healing takes many forms, and that small acts of care, a moment of listening, or a calm voice —can change the trajectory of someone’s life. My long-term vision is to create a trauma-informed crisis and wellness center that bridges the gap between emergency response, mental health care, and housing stability. I envision a space where those in crisis can find safety, therapy, and culturally grounded healing without judgment or red tape. I want to mentor future crisis responders to approach this work with empathy, cultural competence, and courage. The Heart of Hawaiʻi Scholarship represents more than financial aid for me — it symbolizes hope. Through this work, I have learned that compassion is the truest form of strength, and service is how I express my aloha for Hawaiʻi and its people. Mahalo