Born in Waipahu. Raised in Hilo. Spend any amount of time with Kirk Caldwell and you’re likely to hear those words.

"I’m not saying that because I think I’m better or more special than someone else born in Aiea or born in Lihue," he says. "For me I think it defines who I am.

"It very much shapes my style of governing and leading and managing."

From those communities he learned the value of teamwork, recalling how with his family — his parents along with his four brothers and sisters — he helped move people out of inundation zones on Hawaii island when tsunami warning sirens blared in the early morning hours. And while he never grew up in a plantation camp, he says, he still learned the values of discipline and hard work.

"My father made me work in the plantation," he said in an interview. "I’ve watched, and I actually worked as hard as they did. I didn’t have to do it for the rest of my life like generations of plantation workers, but I came to appreciate what hard work means, and I’m not afraid of hard work."

As he makes a second run at the top job in city government, Caldwell says he hopes his leadership and management style — forged from Wai­pahu and Hilo — can carry him past two political heavyweights.

Caldwell frames himself as the hands-on, collaborative, sleeves-rolled-up, get-the-job-done candidate as he tries to beat incumbent Mayor Peter Carlisle, who defeated him two years ago, and former two-term Gov. Ben Caye­tano.

Although early polls showed him far behind, Caldwell has carried on steadily and stayed on message, holding community forums and vigorous sign-waving rallies to get his name out and get people to know who he is.

His run has attracted support from virtually all of the major public-worker unions, and his message has resonated in at least one area: his campaign treasury. In the first six months this year, Caldwell’s campaign raised $511,000, more than twice Carlisle’s $198,000 during that period but second to Caye­tano’s haul of $893,000.

Though Caldwell still carries a campaign debt of $188,000, all of that is left over from 2010, when he took out $250,000 in loans toward an overall take of $1.2 million that still was not enough to overcome Carlisle in a special election.

"I think we’re doing some pretty darn good things (this year), and I think part of it is I learned from the last time," he says. "We have a better team, both in terms of strategy and boots on the ground. We have a great team in terms of raising money, and I think we’ve got a handle on the issues and the temperature of the community and what they’re looking for."

Not bad, he says, for someone who previously spent only six years in elected office, representing Manoa in the state House.

Aside from framing himself as the hands-on candidate, Caldwell, 59, also portrays himself as the nonpolitician, someone who came to public service later in life and who hasn’t made a career out of being elected to various offices.

"One of the things I find refreshing with Kirk is, unlike other politicians, he hasn’t been in long enough where the system has, I guess, created him to be what most people think politicians are," says Hubert Minn, a Manoa constituent and former school board chairman who worked with Caldwell during his time at the city. "I like his integrity."

Ethel Fleming, a retiree from Makiki who has supported Caldwell since he first ran for the state House in 2002, calls him an honest, "no-drama kind of guy."

"I just really feel that he is one of those people who will push Hono­lulu into the spotlight and not focus on himself," she says.

But personality aside, the driving issue in this election is rail.

Caldwell has steadfastly stuck to his platform that he can move forward with rail better than Carlisle.

"I think we have a mayor currently who’s not hands-on, who’s not there meeting weekly with the team, talking daily about what the problems are, going out and addressing the concerns with the community, working with the Council," Caldwell says. "We need to talk about it. That’s not going on, and as a result people are worried. They’re concerned and support is moving backwards, and Ben is playing right into that momentum by fanning that fear."

As the lesser known of the two candidates who support rail, Caldwell has sought to differentiate himself from Carlisle.

While Carlisle says he does not believe Caye­tano can kill rail (the City Charter requires that a steel-wheel-on-steel-rail system move forward), Caldwell believes Caye­tano’s election alone could put federal funds at risk and doom the project altogether.

But Caldwell also seeks to engage the community more and solicit more public input, staking out a middle ground between Carlisle’s frantic push forward and Caye­tano’s all-out effort to stop the project.

"Yes, rail is not perfect," he says. "There’s no perfect. I think it’s better than not doing a rail system, but there is impact — visual impact."

To that end he proposes shifting columns, planting more trees beneath stations, blending the structures with the existing architecture as the rail line works its way into areas like Bishop Street and Ala Moana Boulevard, and other aesthetic fixes — all within the limits of the approved environmental impact statement — to allay public concern.

"We can work within it, and some of these ideas could actually end up saving money," he says.

He calls rail one of two big legacy projects that will confront whoever wins the election, the other being the federally mandated upgrade of the city’s sewer and water treatment systems.

"I believe rail and the sewer infrastructure will concentrate growth around stations," he says. "It will concentrate a better form of living, a smaller footprint where people are closer to work and home."

But the big-ticket items are not the only reason he is seeking the mayor’s job. Despite having worked at the state level in the Legislature and at the federal level for U.S. Sen. Daniel Ino­uye, Caldwell says the most impactful change can take place at the city level.

"As mayor I could do things today, right now, to make your life better," he says. "If you called me up and said, ‘There’s a pothole in front of my house that’s driving me nuts, it’s been there all week,’ I could actually call up (Department of Facilities Maintenance) and I could fill your pothole," Caldwell says. "To people in general that seems like a manini thing — so what, Kirk filled my pothole.

"But to you your life is better, right, because there’s no pothole too small when it’s the one you’re driving through."

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Correction: A previous version of this story misquoted Caldwell as saying "plantation owners" when he had said "plantation workers." Here is the full correct quote: “My father made me work in the plantation. I’ve watched, and I actually worked as hard as they did. I didn’t have to do it for the rest of my life like generations of plantation workers, but I came to appreciate what hard work means, and I’m not afraid of hard work.”