When I met Neil Abercrombie in 2009, he asked me to be his deputy campaign manager. I was a person he didn’t know, with no experience and, frankly, no interest in Hawaii politics. He put his trust in me, so I put my trust in him.

At the time, most of Hawaii’s elite kept their distance because the conventional wisdom was that Neil couldn’t win. I thought this was great. It meant we were free to go straight to the people: at Tamura’s and Hamura’s and the Hilo farmers market, on Twitter and Facebook, at the senior homes and the job corps and in the parts of Hawaii that politicians rarely visit.

We did it old-school and new-school, harvesting voices instead of votes. Of course, some in our inner circle noted that this wasn’t how politics is done in Hawaii, where you gather the usual suspects to do the usual things. But this "people’s campaign" brought out Neil’s best qualities, and he allowed it to be about something bigger than him.

When people were convinced that the campaign cared about them, they cared about it. They rallied friends and created campaign videos and art. If you were in it or near it, you could feel the campaign’s soul.

As soon as it was over, expectations were justifiably high. The governor-elect asked some of us to follow him into office and we planned to stick with the philosophy of engaging people. Of course, some in our inner circle noted that this wasn’t how government is done in Hawaii, where you gather the usual suspects to do the usual things. You’re supposed to calibrate the needs of interest groups, business leaders and politicians. You’re supposed to consolidate power, not share it.

Day by day, people who were promised a change in government grew more restless about how things looked exactly the same. Some who rallied around a campaign that promised to put them first, eventually felt betrayed. I often found myself on the opposite side of people who were standing alongside me just one year earlier. Budget shortfalls and tough times can be used as excuses, but we weren’t living up to our most important promises. In that way, I was betraying myself.

I believe the campaign was successful because we put people ahead of politics. It wasn’t a slogan. It wasn’t a strategy. We believed it to be true and we know that’s what the people want. It’s just common sense.

And I believe that people want government to be run the same way — respecting people, listening to their voices and involving them in solutions. It won’t be easy. We are taught that democracy is about solving problems together, but we treat it like a sport. We count up winners and losers. We heckle the players. We think of power as a prize instead of as a privilege. It’s the opposite of Hawaii style.

I joined the governor’s campaign because I thought elections and policy could change that. But now I see that those things are the fruits of change, not the roots of change. People are the roots.

Thankfully, those roots are already in the ground. All across our islands there are so many leaders who are changing business-as-usual through resistance and resilience. They heal people and feed people, run businesses and provide government services, manage offices and make things. They teach children, practice culture, restore the land and live simple island values with joy and grace. These values are the glue for a campaign that is bigger than any election. Stick with the people, and anything is possible.