A part of me has always hated parades. I can understand why parents take their kids to them – it’s something free and different to do, a way to spend time together outside without having to plan or do much. But I don’t have kids, and my memories of going to parades when I was a kid are generally defined by being bored and uncomfortable.

I remember sitting in the sun as forgettable floats slowly inched by, the smells of sunscreen and sweat wafting in the air, surrounded by fidgety crowds, which inevitably led to at least some unwanted social interactions. All the while I could have been watching TV or reading a book or going to the beach — or potentially all three of those in the same time it takes for a parade to finish. And that’s to say nothing of traffic disruptions and litter left behind.

But lately I’ve been seeing videos and pictures on social media of the parades happening around the island, and it’s made me soften my position…

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“We all look to the past and to the future to find ourselves,” wrote the late artist Isamu Noguchi. “Here, we find a hint that awakens us; there, a path that someone like us once walked.” It’s a quote returned to often by musician and composer Leilehua Lanzilotti, who grew up frequenting the same path Noguchi tread to construct his sculpture “Sky Gate” near Honolulu Hale, where Lanzilotti’s father worked for then-Honolulu Mayor Frank Fasi.

This was long before she was formally introduced to the work of the prolific American sculptor, and just one of her formative experiences encountering art in outdoor spaces. Lanzilotti’s mother, who worked at the former Contemporary Museum of Honolulu, encouraged her to explore the museum’s fields and gardens, which were adorned with kinetic sculptures. “I loved being outdoors in the middle of all that art,” she recalls. “It was really influential to my way of thinking about art and music-making in a playful way.”

But the kind of mastery that Lanzilotti is known for also required structure. As a child she began studying under Hiroko Primrose, a “strict, old-school, and incredible” violin teacher, while also dancing in Hālau Hula O Maʻiki, an experience that provided her with an in-depth cultural education in Hawaiian language and music…

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Parents want to be more involved with the education system. That should be good news – in my experience, it’s difficult to get parents involved with their own kids’ homework, let alone participate in the macro-level planning of the Department of Education machine. But something about Civil Beat’s recent story gave me an uneasy feeling.

It’s a good overview that covers several angles of legitimate frustration. Schools feel overburdened and understaffed, under increasing pressure from all sides to do more work with less time. Parents are upset that communication from the DOE and Board of Education is inconsistent, needlessly difficult and unintelligibly hole-punched with acronyms. They feel left out of important decisions that directly impact their children, during one of the most precarious moments in modern American life. It’s easy to sympathize with them…

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It’s hard to say whether the origin story of Josh Reppun is counterintuitive or obvious.

It might seem strange that one of Hawaii’s boldest voices for education reform didn’t get his bachelor’s degree until he was in his mid-30s, or that he started his professional career as a chef. On the other hand, his journey reflects an interaction with the education system that informs how he thinks about it today — what it is, and what it could be…

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When I bought my adult tricycle, I was met with two very different responses from the guys at the bike store.

One of them said, sincerely, “It’s great you’re finding a way to keep riding.”

The other guy, puzzled, asked bluntly, “How come you don’t get a regular bike?”

Though I’ve had the trike for two years now, pretty much every response I’ve encountered has been a variation of one of those two reactions.

The latter, less empathetic response is not entirely unwarranted. The term “adult tricycle” lends itself to disparagement; anything clarified by the word “adult” before it, whether it’s a diaper or a film or a tricycle, is usually accompanied by some degree of shame and embarrassment…

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