Exclusionary tactics OK in Hawaii — but not that place

There was shock, outrage and lots of tsk-tsking when plans for a high-rise near the Keeaumoku Street Walmart revealed that there would be one entrance for the rich people, who will buy the high-end suites with sweeping views and deluxe amenities, and a separate entrance for those who qualify to rent affordable units in the same huge building. Oh my goodness! Such disparity! Such discrimination! Not in Hawaii! Gasp!

No, here in the islands we don’t stand for any “poor door.”

But gated communities, blocked beach access, billionaire estates and expansive resort areas with manicured grounds and “KEEP OUT” signs where it used to be overgrown scrub brush, koa haole and good pheasant-hunting land — yup, we’re cool with that. We know our place. Somehow, when the entire thing is closed off to us, that’s OK.

Does a separate door really mean discrimination? Isn’t much of our experience determined by what we pay for? You can buy your way behind the velvet rope. Hotels have different elevators that require key cards to get to the more expensive suites on higher floors. If you pay for a first-class ticket, you get to board the plane first. If you buy a cheap ticket, you’re in zone 4, you board the plane last, sit in the back and fight for overhead storage space.

You can sit in the Aloha Stadium skybox to watch a UH football game with all your friends and park in VIP parking if you pay for it. If you pay membership dues to the country club, you get prime tee times. If you don’t, you get what’s left over. Or you don’t golf at all.

It wasn’t so much the different level of luxury amenities between the high rollers and the affordable renters that caused an uproar over the separate entrance. It was the door. The separate door, and the burden of symbolism where people who aren’t as good because of the color of their skin or the position of their birth are allowed to come in only because their work is required to keep up the manor and man the kitchens. But that wasn’t the case here. Nobody was mad that affordable renters wouldn’t be able to swim in ProsPac Tower’s pool. People didn’t like the idea of the door.

But more than the door, the part of this story that is most shocking is this: The “poor” who will rent the affordable units are individuals who make up to $58,000 a year, or 80 percent or less of Oahu’s median income. That’s more than the average teacher makes in Hawaii. If those are the “poor door” people who get to rent affordable apartments in town, who is the middle class in Hawaii? A family of three with an income of, say, $120,000 a year? Where is their door? Not in this building. They’re still living with grandma and grandpa in a three-bedroom in Aiea, and they’re probably not flying first class, either.

Reach Lee Cataluna at 529-4315 or lcataluna@staradvertiser.com.