At 46, John D. Aiwohi III was twice the age of many of his classmates at Chaminade University when he crossed the stage to receive his Bachelor of Science in nursing.

But he believes his tortuous journey to get there — which included more than a decade with no home — might give him an edge in the long run.

“At one point I thought all of my past experiences were going to be those things that hold me back,” Aiwohi said. “I not only found that it’s my strength, but it is also the thing that gives me the best advantage in nursing.”

Aiwohi, a sturdy near-6-footer, graduated with honors from Chaminade on May 13 in his first commencement ceremony ever. This fall he will begin work on a Doctor of Nursing Practice degree at the University of Hawaii at Hilo. He hopes the three-year credential will help him gain a seat at the table in efforts to improve health care delivery, especially to homeless Native Hawaiians.

As part of his training as a nurse at Chaminade, Aiwohi spent time working at the clinic at the men’s shelter of the Institute for Human Services. The experience felt surreal, he said in an interview.

“It was very emotional,” he said. His broad shoulders rose as he drew in a long breath and held it for a moment. “It was like every person walking in was me that I was helping.”

“I have made a 180- degree change,” he added. “I have a new perspective and different view of compassion and how to care for people and how to navigate through their fears and their thoughts. I want to work alongside these same social service agencies and workers and doctors that have helped me get to where I’m at right now.”

The youngest of six children, Aiwohi grew up in the Waialae area and started out lucky, landing a spot in kindergarten at the selective Kamehameha Schools Kapalama campus. His parents, he said, were “loving and giving” and “did everything for their children.”

But still he drifted off course. He left Kamehameha Schools after eighth grade, attended Kalani High School and ended up getting a GED.

“I just went astray,” he said. “That started at an early age — 12, 13, 14, sneaking off on my own. I wasn’t able to deal with my internal demons, whatever they were at that time. My self-medication for my depression and all those kinds of things was alcohol and drugs.”

Before long his situation spiraled into homelessness. He sees Hawaii’s homeless epidemic as a Rubik’s cube with many facets, including mental health, addiction, society’s structure and “the ridiculous cost of everything.”

“Like a lot of people, I started out couch surfing,” he said. “It got down to where I was sleeping out in the elements. … Nobody sets out to be homeless. You get stuck; you don’t feel like you deserve anything better.”

He tried many times to change his life around, with no success. In November 2011 he hit bottom. Paramedics took him — disheveled, belligerent and in “an altered state” — to an emergency room.

“I couldn’t put together a sentence,” he said. “My doctors didn’t think I was going to make it.”

On Nov. 7 he will mark eight years clean and sober. He credits a family friend with engineering his turnaround.

“I had help from a friend who basically saved my life,” he said. “He would take me to treatment, take me to get all the IDs, do the paperwork, make the phone calls, the in- between things that are obstacles for people who are homeless.”

“I’m one of the lucky ones,” Aiwohi said. “It took a Herculean effort to get off the streets.”

Aiwohi started off taking classes at Kapiolani Community College in hopes of becoming a nurse, a lofty goal at the time. A counselor suggested he have a backup plan because nursing school is tough. That just made him more determined, he said.

“My hands would sweat all the time in class because I was nervous that I didn’t belong there and wouldn’t be able to do it,” he recalled.

After two years Aiwohi had completed the prerequisites and entered Chaminade, attracted by its small size, mission of service and holistic approach. As a Ho‘oulu Scholar, he received a full-tuition scholarship and other support, with the cost shared between Kamehameha Schools and the university. The program offers a grounding in science and Hawaiian culture.

Aiwohi had to put in extra time to grasp some material, but he stayed motivated and focused, avoiding typical distractions that can waylay undergraduates.

“I didn’t have the luxury of dillydallying,” he said. “I was really afraid to take my foot off the pedal, because I never want to go back to feeling hopeless and feeling like I don’t belong, feeling separate from the rest of the world.”

His outlook has made a sea change. Instead of being haunted by feelings of impending doom, he now feels “there is always a way.”

“The main thing I’d like to get across is there is hope,” he said. “No matter what happens in life, you are worth something. You find those little things that other people see in you that you don’t necessarily see in yourself. And you have to do whatever it takes to get there, because it is worth it.”

“Everything is a possibility today,” he added. “I owe that to my family, to all the people who helped me get to here, social serv­ice providers, my doctors, my friends, my teachers, the school.”

Last year was rough, as his parents died six months apart. But he was buoyant after taking his last final exam, clad in bright pink boardshorts — a tribute to his mom, whose favorite color was pink. Before commencement he took a moment to reflect.

“My greatest accomplishment so far in life, if I had to choose one, is that I was able to turn my life around while my parents were still alive,” Aiwohi said. “For them to see me work toward the potential they always saw in me, that’s not something I thought would happen. Peace of mind was what I was able to give them.”