Maoli in the Mirror

Don't you ever tell me what you think I'm worth

You don't know a thing about me, first..

How can you determine what my struggle has been

When you don't even know the position I'm in

What makes you so experienced in my life?

Have you witnessed even a moment of my strife?

What do you know about living in a foreign land?

What do you know about this marching band?

You tell me my struggle wasn't like yours

Um, we're two different people, unlikely of course! 

So once again I ask, what is this you know of me?

Do you discount your vision?  Maybe you can't see.

Maybe you haven't looked past your own backyard.

That does not mean, my struggles weren't hard.

Your yard doesn't apply to what's in my life.

Yet against you, I NEVER compared strife.

Just because I didn't pay $60,000 to say I can read

Does not authorize you to say that I can't succeed.

Just because I was not raised or live in the islands

Does not mean, I'm lesser victim to crimes against man.

How did your family handle it when they were exiled?

Oh, you're still in the islands?  I bet that was wild.

How did you feel when you were the only maoli in school?

Constantly referred to as a hula dance, by racist fools.

How did you feel, homeless as a ten year old kid?

Didn't even have a mother who cared if you lived?

A father on crack and a twin hooked on crime.. 

Do you still want to compare - your life to mine?

To not have a cousin, a relative, a friend..

And you want to tell me that your heart needs to mend?

Forbidden to admit, the blood that makes me,

For fear of good reasons, yet untold stories.

Restricted from culture, prohibited from being myself

Yet you have the nerve to say I've live a westernized wealth?

I fail to understand, just what you see.

Am I a big bad guy or a victim of total envy?

Maybe the problems you have are all in your head

They didn't steal the land, you live on its homestead!

They didn't steal the Kingdom, it exists unto this day

All they stole was your mindset, they blew it away.

You want to see a struggle?  Try coming back home

After three generations away, to a place unknown.

With love in your heart, you prepare to make way,

Only to find out that your people discount you, for where you must stay.

People spread the word aloha like plastic flowers at the store,

Yet treat each other with vengeance, aloha no? aloha no more.

Hating on each other like children in a school, and

Wondering why the state continues to treat us like fools?

Look at what we're doing, Maoli as a race!

No wonder why we have been stuck in this place!

We spend more time hating on our own sisters and brothers

Than we spend uniting against the harmful others.

While we're looking sideways, they're having a ball

Tearing up what's left before the Kingdom falls.

And you mean to tell me that among all this strife, 

You have time to pass judgement on somebody else's life?

Why don't you wake up and smell the Kingdom at your door?

Calling you to go outside and malama it more.

Its calling you to recognize the lies you live in

What you're doing is called treason

The fact that you don't live by Kingdom Law

Is probably the Kingdom's most serious flaw.

Stop looking for a leader, it will come in time.

Pay attention to the fact that you're committing a crime.

If you're offended after reading this, e kala mai that's magnificent

It only proves you right. I'm western, which you called unintelligent.

My geographical location prevents me from what runs through my veins

And only you know, right?  I'm just discounted remains

Remember what you said.  You'll eat every word.

Every accusation you gave me, was really absurd.

You know every word I speak, remember, you have a degree

Which was how you arrived at your judgement upon me.

Maoli in the mirror, every day of my existence

Something you can never take away with your 'sense'

No matter where I'm at, no matter where I'll be

You can't erase what makes me Kanaka Maoli.

Kahala Lei

copyright 2013

  

Full Legal custody

File Contempt of Custody Order:

KAHALA AZUMA MAUI
                 vs
FRANCISCO CORREDOR III

Father of LEILANI MELINA CORREDOR-MAUI and RUSSELL PHOENIX CORREDOR-MAUI,
FRANCISCO CORREDOR III of unknown residence, of known mailing address of 858 E TIOGA ST,  PHILADELPHIA, PA 19134

has been notified on several occasions about his lack of phone calls to the children referenced above, us hurting their already strained relationship with the above referenced defendant.

According to what was discussed in the early 2008 custody hearing,  the mother was responsible for the general care for the children while the father was in prison.  The order for child support was nullified by the courts of Philadelphia, due to his status as incarcerated.  All back debt was thereby forgiven.  I accepted my responsibility and despite my illnesses, continued to work 55-70 hours per week on the clock and took housekeeping jobs on the side to furnish our home, as we came to Port Charlotte with 1 change of clothes.

Here's the timeline since then:

- He kept regular contact with them and made many promises while in prison and for the first month he was home.
- Since 2010 we haven't heard from him much, and more often than not, we have to call him on a holiday to wish him a good one.  The cards stopped coming, and not a single gift.
- I have gotten everyone a cell phone of their own, to suffice his new girlfriend, who allegedly does not like for him to communicate with me.
- Whereas FRANCISCO CORREDOR III was aware that we were struggling, he remained status quo that he did not have a job and would one day send the children gifts.
- Because it is cheaper and safer than sending the children alone on a plane, which was agreed to be unsafe, we have offered the father to visit the children and I have offered to leave him with the house and car.  I have other places to stay.  The kids know their way around.  I have even extended our Universal Studios season passports that my father bought us.   All of which he declined to, stating that I needed to fly his whole family down and cater to them because they are broke.
- Whereas since then we have struggled, lost and replaced everything twice since living here, FRANCISCO CORREDOR III has continued to fail to keep communication or to show concern to the children.  This has caused both children emotional disorders, resulting in their being pulled from public school and homeschooled.  It has also caused our son to need intensive therapy and tons of social services.
- In 2011-2012 I fell ill and spent 8 months in and out of the hospital, of which FRANCISCO CORREDOR  III was aware of, and all he could do to help was to demand that I find the money to drive up there for a visit in which he expected me to allow them to go to a house with people we don't know, in an environment the children are not familiar with, and I do not have an address?  To forward all my inquiries through his mother?
Now I believe in his right to be with them alone, but I need to know with who and where will my kids be.  Maybe an introductory meeting over dinner, like adults?
- How did he expect me to fly or drive that far when I just came home from having half my digestive tract removed and a partial skull replacement in the rear of my head - like where all your thinking wires are.  I didn't think that would be safe.  Especially given the fact that I cannot work to make the money to purchase a safe vehicle to travel, drive that far or neurologically be able to handle the altitude change.
- I have contacted him to get permission for the children to travel on a Disney Cruise sponsored by the church, and he informed me that it was impossible for him to notarize a letter of paternal permission.  The children needed passports and I need his signature.  Unfortunately, the children missed that free experience.
- Rather than call his daughter for her birthday this year, FRANCISCO CORREDOR III called to complain about a child support matter that he received from the STATE of  FLORIDA that was preventing him from receiving a rather large tax return for a guy with no job.  He offered me a $100 reward to get him out of child support and told me that I am angering his girlfriend.  He said that her SSD check from her airport management position, combined with 2 of her children's SS checks wasn't enough for them to live.
- We are currently living off of $710 per month.  A family of 4.  He doesn't understand why I would need food stamps to feed our children.
- At this point, our custody arrangement no longer works for the benefit of the children and I, KAHALA AZUMA MAUI and asking for your careful consideration toward letting our family move on without having to leave any future opportunities behind.

signed
KAHALA AZUMA MAUI

Closing the Season as an Upward Sport Coach

It was my first season ever, as a coach of a sport team.  I used to have an agenda in every profession because I am extremely competitive with myself, and must always out do my own past.  However, it had been years since I actually set foot on a field and what put a twist on this particular sport, was the fact that I did not know how to combine sportsmanship with Christian morals.  This was a totally new concept for me, who did not expect to have become the head coach. 

It was unclear at first, how it was all supposed to happen.  All I knew was that they were asking me to help the coaches of my children's teams. So we showed up for practice, unsure of what to expect, went with our respected teams, then the head of the organization handed me a coach book and a bag of balls.  He told me where to look for the information for each practice and told me to follow my daughter.  I saw three other parents over there with the kids, so my initial thought was that this wasn't going to be so bad after all.  The other parents seemed to be doing fine in the coaching area, so I immediately took the moment to overlook the book and acquaint myself.  I took a few pictures, which ended up being neither here nor there, as everything was going so fast paced to me, that before I got 5 snaps into it, practice was over.

On my way to the second practice, I was confident in knowing that even though I had the equipment in my trunk, that I was only helping. Not so bad, I thought.  So to the field we went with our case of water and equipment.  As we got closer to the area where we would meet our team, I noticed that there weren't any other parents.  This wasn't very comfortable, but I went on to get the kids their warm-ups.  Fifteen minutes into practice, and more kids, but no parents.  I went over everyone's names again before we parted, gave out the uniforms and dismissed, thinking to myself that somebody had better be with me for the game day.

"Wow!"  I thought,  "They gave us all shirts! I can't believe they even gave me one, when all I do is help out!"  Was I ever excited about having my first coach shirt.  I didn't realize what this meant right away.  Once home, I began to chart my schedule and it slowly sank in that I was the "one."

So as the season went on, I just did what felt right.  Before I knew it, people everywhere were calling me Coach.  I proudly began to embrace this title as I added it to the list of titles I have had in life.  Looking back upon the season now, I wouldn't change a single thing.  We finished the season out with a 0-12
 record, just the way I finished out my very first season as a soccer player; with hopes of a better season next year.


Kahala Lei

Flower in the Sidewalk

During one on one time in home school, my son asked me why I always tell them that they will one day be better than they ever thought I was. They know of our family history and how long we've come. They know how different they are to our family, every once in a blue when they talk on the phone. Other grown ups in the family are always amazed at how much the kids teach them. 
On the other hand, my kids notice this too, but being better than mommy is a far fetched idea. So to answer this question was going to be a bit of a pickle to answer.  Then the story came.


"Once upon a city block, there was a crack in the sidewalk.  People were always saying bad things about these cracks in the sidewalks, saying that they break your mother's back.  But I've never seen a crack break anybody's back, so long as I been growing here.  My home is a crack in the sidewalk! Life on the crack has never been something to look forward to since one doesn't have a long life span on the crack. One cannot root.  There's no soil - which means there's no soul.    
Lucky for a little flower like me,  there's a good reason I made it to the tropics. You see, there was this real bad storm that hit the city in the summer of 2007, flooded all the lower lying areas and washed off my block. Most don't make it.  Only a few of us persevere.  We don't talk everyday, but long ago, we took an oath and nothing could change that.  We blow whispers in the wind to let each other know how its going. 
I ended up in an overflow at the watershed and just past it, I was able to rest awhile and recover before I was washed away again. The first time, I made it through the toughest part of the journey.  The rest was all a whirlwind. We had good times and we had bad.   
Before I knew it, the second wind took me 937 miles downstream, where I was able to root by the water's edge.  It wasn't long before my sprouts were becoming flowers of their own, and how magnificent that they had soil to root in.  It might not be the richest soil of Virginia, it may be a bit salty.  But the important part is that they were able to root somewhere where the sun shines warmth on their petals, the water supple for their leaves. May the love of God nourish the stem of each flower, and may each flower stand tall.
By the looks of their early stages, the flowers were going to become more beautiful than any others in their classification, because of their rooting. Although they haven't drifted as nearly as far as their mother seed, they know of her journey to prepare for their pollination and rooting.
This, the flower from the sidewalk tells her young buds, is the reason they will blossom into such prettier flowers than ever before in their classification."


Kahala Lei
Blood Money Poets
copyright 2013