Of the more than 308 million people in the United States, only 527,077 — a tiny 0.17 percent of the total population — were counted as Native Hawaiian, either alone or in combination with another race, in the 2010 U.S. Census.
The islands’ indigenous people are a minority in their homeland and an extreme minority in the nation as a whole, their ancient and authentic culture unknown to the masses, and frequently misunderstood even by tourists who grace our shores and experience only a highly commercialized version of what it means to be Hawaiian.
So we believe social-media entrepreneur Ramin Bastani when he insists that he had no idea that naming a smartphone app Hula and promoting it as a way to help people "get lei’d" would be considered an offensive misappropriation of Hawaiian culture.
Bastani isn’t the first to display a complete lack of awareness of the native culture, while seeking to make money off it. But now that he knows, Bastani should give weight to his apology and change the name.
Not because hula is sacred, although it is in some quarters. We don’t have a state religion and we shouldn’t have one, obviously. Bastani should change the name out of simple respect for an indigenous culture that continually risks being over- whelmed by the modern world, outnumbered and unheeded, its customs co-opted for someone else’s gain.
A new name is the only way for Bastani to prove that he truly does understand the concerns of Native Hawaiians and others who are fed up with this type of exploitation in marketing schemes far and wide. It wouldn’t be the first name change for the app, which promotes testing for sexually transmitted diseases and is market- ed as a way for potential sex partners to reassure each other that they are STD-free.
The app started out with the name Qpid, then was switched to Hula, with the crass come-on about getting "lei’d."
Lawyers dedicated to expanding native rights commit much time to the issue of trademarks and cultural misappropriation; indigenous artists, including kumu hula, raise awareness through their art, and college students start petitions, which is what happened in this instance. Three college students who are alumni of Kamehameha Schools-Maui started a petition on the website change.org asking Bastani to change the name of his app. The petition explains that hula is a sacred art form that tells the story of the Native Hawaiian people and perpetuates their culture and values, which at times throughout history have been suppressed. The fetching image of an alluring hula girl so dominant in modern culture diminishes this fact. The petition also highlights that the Native Hawaiian population was decimated after Western contact in the late 1700s, in part due to the introduction of sexually transmitted infections such as syphilis and gonorrhea.
So there’s a lot going on here, many layers of pain in the protesters’ objections. Bastani, who is basedin Los Angeles, has dropped the tagline about getting "lei’d," but says he’ll keep the name Hula. His justification is that the app is all about health care, and health care is beautiful.
"The name Hula evokes a sense of calm and beauty," he said. "The dance is a communications tool and we’re a communications tool."
Boy, is that a stretch. Hula — the real hula, not the app — holds the language, history, music and traditions of the islands’ indigenous people. Tourists sucking down mai tais as they pay scant attention to the dancers before them might not understand this, and Bastani clearly doesn’t get it either. But we who live here should, regardless of our ethnicity.
Hula is central to the Native Hawaiian identity — an identity that commerce is far too quick to exploit and trivialize.
So the message from Hawaii must be consistent: Change the name, Mr. Bastani. Not because you have to, but because you know you should.