Carving a future

At Castle High School, they were known as "the troublemakers."

They weren’t interested in showing up at school and had little idea of where their lives would take them after graduation — if they even made it to commencement.

But in a torch-lit procession Thursday night, the students of Castle’s 2-year-old "Po‘okela Academy" — "po‘okela" means "excellence" — proudly carried three albizia canoes they made by hand to the ancient Waikalua Loko fishpond in Kaneohe.

The nighttime march from high school to the sea in malo and other traditional attire represented a journey many of the students never imagined.

"We were looked down upon," said Braden Pagaoa, a 17-year-old Castle senior from Kaneohe. "We’ve got a name as the troublemakers of the school. We’ve got a name as the punks."

Now they use different words to describe themselves — words like "proud" and "confident."

Being forced to make presentations about what he learned at Po‘okela Academy used to scare Se’e Vaiau, another 17-year-old senior from Kaneohe.

"Now I have more confidence talking to groups of people," Vaiau said. "It’s given me direction and made me more of a leader."

Vaiau is now talking to a recruiter about becoming a U.S. Marine.

Nearly 90 percent of this year’s 54 Po‘okela Academy students descend from Hawaiian blood, but had little connection to their cultural roots.

By linking classroom academics to real-world work tending lo‘i fields, rebuilding fishponds and re-creating their ancestors’ techniques to make papa kui ai poi-pounding boards, students such as Pagaoa discovered a pride they had never felt.

"I got to learn a lot about our native culture, how our ancestors used to do things and how smart they actually were with the way they could engineer their land to produce their crops and how they got to make the fishponds where they could store fish," Pagaoa said. "It brought me closer to my roots."

Lea Albert, the state Department of Education’s complex area superintendent, calls the Po‘okela Academy students "nontraditional learners."

The Po‘okela students have other ways of describing themselves: "Not a book learner." "More of a hands-on learner."

"Whatever we’re taught in class, we’re now learning in a way that we understand," said Braylyn Palencia, a 16-year-old sophomore. "It showed me my culture and the aina showed me who I am and where I come from. It’s given me self-confidence. Our test scores — everything — have improved. "

Pagaoa barely held onto a 1.0 grade-point average in his first three years at Castle.

"Now I think I have a few A’s now and some B’s," he said. "The class sizes are smaller so there’s more one-on-one with the teachers. That helps me out a lot. If I was to read something, it would be lost in my brain. But if I see it, I can do it right after you show me."

The students’ Wednesday and Friday outings to work on community projects also clicked with Vaiau.

"You see how everything progresses in front of you, plus you’re doing it yourself," Vaiau said. "You get more of a feel for the whole purpose. If you were reading it in a book, you’d never know how it feels."

"It opens up your eyes," said Wildon Baker, a 17-year-old senior from Waikane who plans to study civil engineering at Kapiolani Community College.

"It’s gotten me to be more independent and taught me cultural values of the land and respecting things."

Seventeen of Po‘okela’s seniors have applied to community colleges or trade schools and nine have been accepted, said Susan Young, redesign director for the Castle complex.

"These are students that were typically not on track to graduate or would have a much steeper hill to climb in meeting all of the graduation requirements," said Herb Lee Jr., executive director of the nonprofit Pacific American Foundation that’s helping the Po‘okela Academy along with Kamehameha Schools. "They get to go outside of the school every Wednesday and Friday and apply what they’re learning in language arts, math, science."

Outside the classroom, the Po‘okela Academy students learn from both Native Hawaiian cultural practitioners and Western scientists on Coconut Island, where they take their lessons in ancient Hawaiian ways and compare them to modern-day marine science.

"The mix is really important," Lee said. "And they can see people like them who have been successful in postsecondary education."

The knowledge and pride the students have gained also pays dividends at home, where Vaiau said his cultural heritage had been neglected.

"Our grandparents have done these kinds of things," Vaiau said. "Because we’re so heavily deep into American ways and urbanization, throughout our parents’ childhoods they lost it. Even our parents have the blood but they never experienced these type of things. So going home and actually teaching our parents about these things, it makes them more proud of us. They also appreciate that we’re enjoying going to school and learning things. For the first time, I’m eager to go to school."

NOW THE students of Po‘okela Academy — armed with better grades, self-confidence and a newfound pride in their culture — are happy to offer advice for other schools filled with kids labeled as troublemakers and punks.

"Every school should take this opportunity for Hawaiian-based learning," Vaiau said. "You think of troubled kids who won’t do anything with their life. This process matures everybody and makes you realize what you want to do later in life."

Palencia said she’s a perfect example of how the right combination of academics and hands-on learning can turn around — and inspire — students like her.

"This year I showed up way more than before and my grades have improved — a lot," Palencia said. "A lot of students are put aside to fail. But those kids will improve."

And so is the Po‘okela Academy students’ reputation as Castle High School’s troublemakers.

"We’re changing that, too," Palencia said.