Abstract
This qualitative study explored the experiences of 10 Native Hawaiian members of Hawai‘i’s science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) community to understand how they navigate their cultural and professional identities. This article explores one of the major themes—being first-generation college students—and the narrators’ inspirations, influences, and challenges as first-generation college students in STEM-related degree programs. Within this context, the participants explore the impact of support networks, going beyond the educational level of their parents, as well as feelings of inferiority, tokenism, and marginalization as one of the few Native Hawaiian students in STEM degree programs. These findings are substantial in that they offer understanding related to a distinct racial/ethnic minority that is underrepresented in higher education and the sciences.
Native Hawaiian students make up one of the fastest growing segments of college communities in Hawai‘i. Yet, so few Native Hawaiian students are opting to pursue degrees related to science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM; National Science Foundation, 2017; Office of Hawaiian Affairs, 2011b; University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa, 2017). All college students face academic, social, and psychological challenges. “First-generation students,” particularly racial/ethnic minority students, “face unique challenges in attaining a degree, such as conflicting obligations, false expectations, poor preparation, and lack of support, which may hinder their success” (Zalaquett, 1999, p. 417).
The number of college students who are the first in their families to attend college/university is growing, as postsecondary degrees have become a prerequisite for employment in STEM-related fields. Consequently, there is a growing body of literature focusing on racial/ethnic minorities and the college experience. This research has revealed how racial/ethnic minorities, particularly African American/Black, Latino/a, and Asian populations, faced historical and modern discrimination both academically and professionally (Dennis, Phinney, & Chuateco, 2005; Wei, Ku, & Liao, 2011; Zalaquett, 1999).
There are similarities to the experiences and needs of Native Hawaiian college students as compared with the aforementioned racial/ethnic minority groups. There are also distinct differences. Scholars such as Chinn (1995) and Tavares (2008) have explored the experiences of Native Hawaiian students in college science classrooms. However, research conducted by/for/with Native Hawaiians is limited in comparison to their racial/ethnic minority peers.
Based on a pilot project (Allaire, 2007), the purpose of this research was to explore the complexities of identity development when two identities—Native Hawaiian and Scientist—were considered. This project explored the relationships between intersecting, and potentially contrasting/supporting, cultural, and professional identities of 10 Native Hawaiian members of Hawai‘i’s STEM community. Narrators included undergraduate and graduate students in STEM-related degree programs, STEM professionals (e.g., doctors, engineers), and members of STEM-based nonprofit organizations.
Unknown at the time of purposeful selection, all of the narrators were the first generation of their families to attend college. This shared identity became a major theme and provided an opportunity to explore both positive and negative educational experiences at the college/university level. This article describes the narrators’ successes with academic and familial support networks as well as feelings of inferiority, tokenism, and marginalization. They also explore what cultural and professional identities means to them and what it means for them to be Native Hawaiians in STEM.
Working with individuals living at the intersection of Native Hawaiian cultural and STEM-professional dimensions of identity is a unique opportunity to learn from those who experience this reality. It is a reality that is informed both by a history of colonization/marginalization and the narrators’ interest and pursuit of so-called Western STEM-related degrees and professions.
Colonization
The process of “colonization refers to both the formal and informal methods (behaviors, ideologies, institutions, policies, and economies) that maintain the subjugation or exploitation of Indigenous Peoples, lands, and resources” (Wilson & Bird, 2005, p. 2). The impact of colonization and associated subjugation still haunts the collective indigenous psyche and includes, as Laenui (2000) notes, “denial/withdrawal, destruction/eradication, denigration/belittlement/insult, surface accommodation/tokenism” (pp. 150–151).
While there is no direct evidence linking colonization and the academic status of Native Hawaiians, they, like other indigenous peoples, the physical, emotional, and mental health of Native Hawaiians is among the worst, are among the poorest ethnic groups in Hawai‘i and the United States and are severely underrepresented in higher education and STEM-related careers (Cook, Chung, & Tseng, 2011; Hostetter, 2014; Kana‘iaupuni, Malone, & Ishibashi, 2005a; National Science Foundation, 2013, 2017; Office of Hawaiian Affairs, 2011b; Watkins-Victorino, 2016).
Health and Socioeconomic Status
Although income inequality between Native Hawaiians and Non-Hawaiians decreased between 2005 and 2013, median household incomes for Native Hawaiian families consistently lag behind other racial/ethnic groups in both State of Hawai‘i and the United States as a whole with 9.4% of families and 14.8% of children living below the poverty line with 13.1% of the population uninsured (Cook et al., 2011; Hostetter, 2014). Native Hawaiians have rates of Type-2 diabetes four times higher than the U.S. standard population with mortality rates eight times that of non-Hawaiians. Mortality rates for all cancers combined are second in the nation (to African Americans among males and to Alaska Natives among females). Native Hawaiians have twice the rate of asthma as other ethnic groups and, not surprisingly, the shortest life expectancy in the State of Hawai‘i. In fact, while the health statistics for other ethnic groups were improving from 1980 to 2010, the statistics for Native Hawaiians were worsening. Data indicate that Native Hawaiians suffer some of the worst health inequities including being five times as likely to experience diabetes between the ages of 19 and 35 and have the highest rates of deaths due to cancer compared with any other ethnic group in Hawai‘i. Smoking rates are 50% higher than other groups and rates of obesity and overweight status (75.5%) are the highest in the state. Native Hawaiians, like many other indigenous populations, also have the highest rates of heavy alcohol, marijuana, and heroine usage in the state (Center for Disease Control and Prevention, 2013; Department of Community Services, 2014; Evans-Campbell, 2008; Kana‘iaupuni, Malone, & Ishibashi, 2005b; Office of Hawaiian Affairs, 2011a, 2011b; Salzman, 2004)
Academic Status
Native Hawaiians make up approximately 23% of the state’s general population. Seventy-nine percent of public schools serving predominantly Native Hawaiian populations are in some form of restructuring. Standardized test scores of Native Hawaiian students lag behind total Hawai‘i Department of Education (HIDOE) averages by at least nine percentiles. The graduation rates of Native Hawaiian students are among the lowest in the HIDOE, 63% in 2015, and grade retention rates among the highest with one out of five students being held back (Center for Disease Control and Prevention, 2013; Hawaii State Department of Education, 2017; Kana‘iaupuni et al., 2005b; Office of Hawaiian Affairs, 2011a; Watkins-Victorino, 2016).
Despite these challenges, there have been signs of improvement. Within the State of Hawai‘i, Native Hawaiian enrollment has steadily increased at the university level. Student enrollment records from the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa (UHM) (2017), and the Hawai‘i State Department of Education (2017) show that despite a decrease in total student enrollment between 2008 and 2016, the number students who identify themselves as Native Hawaiian or Part-Hawaiian increased from 12.2% to 14.6% of the total student population. The percentage of Native Hawaiian students enrolled in STEM-related degree programs also increased from 9.8% in 2008 to 11.0% in 2016 with an average of 11.2% between 2010 and 2016 (Balutski & Wright, 2013; Department of Community Services, 2014; Office of Hawaiian Affairs, 2011b; Watkins-Victorino, 2016).
The National Science Foundation (2013, 2017) reports that the rate of undergraduate completion for racial/ethnic minorities in science has been increasing steadily due to undergraduate research opportunities, increased college/university efforts, support programs, and an increased stream of state and federal funding. Additionally, STEM-related careers can offer marginalized minority students social and economic mobility (Cole & Espinoza, 2008; Hurtado et al., 2011).
Despite these increases, the rate of completion of undergraduate degrees for Native Hawaiians and other racial/ethnic minorities continues to lag behind their Caucasian and Asian peers. Researchers such as McCarron and Inkelas (2006) have shown that the same percentage (44%) of college-bound racial/ethnic minority and majority (White/American) students indicated their intent to major in STEM-related fields and only 27% of racial/ethnic minority students (compared with 46% of majority students) obtain a scientific degree.
Being one of the few Native Hawaiians in the STEM classroom and laboratory presented each of the narrators with unique challenges. The narrators have persevered and excelled in spite of these obstacles. Data revealed recurrent themes across the 10 narrators’ experiences related to being the first generation of their families to pursue higher education and degrees/careers in science. Each turned challenges into opportunities with support from family, friends, their community, and mentors, as well as both formal and informal peer cohorts.
Method
Data were gathered through individual oral histories with themes generated through case study analysis in conjunction with a grounded theory framework (Bryant & Charmaz, 2010; Creswell, 2007; Merriam, 2001). This overall framework placed me, as the investigator, in a central but not solo role as the primary instrument of data collection and analysis. The case study design of this project enabled the personal reflections gathered from the narrators’ oral histories to be analyzed both individually and collectively. Narrator-specific and general statements made were grounded in the collection of rich data, comparisons of those narratives, and analysis of collective experiences. One of the themes gleaned from the narrators’ oral histories included experiences being the first in their family to attend college.
Narrators
The narrators were five men and five women of Native Hawaiian ancestry involved in STEM-related fields. Narrators included undergraduate and graduate students in STEM-related fields of study, science teachers/professors, science professionals, science lobbyists, and individuals working for/with STEM-related programs. To protect their anonymity, each narrator chose a pseudonym for the purposes of this project. They are Lawai‘a, Keala, Melemele, Pōmaika‘i, Keli‘i, Hīhīmanu, Kahelelani, Hoku, Kaipo, and Aloha.
Biographical Summary of Research Participants.
Note. GS = graduate student; UGS = undergraduate student; STEM = science, technology, engineering, and mathematics.
Procedures
Interviews with narrators took place during the course of the 2011–2012 calendar year as specified by the institutional review board (IRB) of the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa (UHM). Each narrator participated in three 1-hr interviews following a format adapted from Seidman (2006), Stewart (2008), and Yin (2009) and followed the principles and best practices recommended by the Oral History Association (2000).
The first interview focused on life history. Narrators talked exclusively about their families, where they are from and went to school, and memorable familial/educational experiences. The second interview explored the narrators’ Hawaiian and Scientist dimensions of identity specifically their interactions and intersections. The third and, in most cases, final interview was an opportunity for the narrators to make sense of their familial, educational, and professional experiences. Efforts were made to conduct interviews with each participant within a 2-week period.
Prior to the official interviews, each narrator and I had an informal chat session off the record. This was done to alleviate what Myers and Newman (2007) refer to as “lack of trust” (p. 4) that could have posed a challenge to this study because of the ethnic insider/outsider dynamic that existed in this project—Native Hawaiian individuals being interviewed by a non-Hawaiian. This was an opportunity for me to introduce myself, discuss the purpose of the interviews, clarify topics of discussion, and address any questions or concerns the narrator may have had (Whiting, 2008; Yin, 2009). It was also when I explained the rights each subject had as a participant and the expectations associated with participation in this project.
Interviews were digitally recorded and transcribed. Following the transcription of each interview, all narrators were given digital copies of their raw transcript—a transcript with little to no editing. All narrators were invited to make corrections, changes, provide clarifications, as well as add and/or remove information from their individual written records. Although some chose not to make edits, all narrators were given this opportunity. Transcripts were then coded for themes linking the narrators. As themes developed, they were shared with the narrators as part of the third interview or through follow-up emails.
The three edited interviews were merged to create a coherent narrative based on each of the narrators’ experiences. Each narrator was given a copy of his or her respective final narrative. As was the case with the individual interviews, the sharing of this final narrative gave narrators the opportunity to expand, reflect, and edit the final product. Although some narrators chose not to make edits, all were given this opportunity. Copies of each completed narrative were given to my advisor so both he and I could confer on emerging themes.
Data included, but was not limited to words, sentences, quotations, analogies, songs, and stories, as well as my own notes and observations throughout the interview process. Particular attention was paid to nonverbal cues (i.e., body language, laughter, sighing, tears, meaningful pauses, and silence) as they relate to the overall context of individual interviews and themes as a whole. Themes emerged from the data through several levels of coding—initial/open, focused, and axial/thematic—with extensive use of memoing throughout the process. Initial coding was based on a variety of literal, figurative, and contextual material provided by each of the narrators. This included word-by-word, line-by-line, incident-by-incident, and in vivo coding methods (Bryant & Charmaz, 2010; Charmaz, 2011; Holton, 2010).
Internal Validity
Internal validity was ensured primarily through three methods—member checks, multiple data sources, and peer review (Charmaz, 2011; Lincoln & Guba, 1990; Merriam, 2001; Yin, 2009). As each of the three interviews and transcriptions were completed, all narrators were given the opportunity to read and edit their own interviews. Transcripts were exchanged via email as many times as was needed for each narrator to feel that their voice and experiences were represented accurately. During the later stages of data analysis, narrators were also invited via email to read and comment on the emerging themes. Involving narrators in these steps ensured accurate representation of their experiences and reinforced empowerment by giving them control of their stories.
External Validity
To enhance this possibility that results from this study could help develop working hypotheses, concrete universals, naturalistic generalization, or user generalization, three strategies were used. The first is rich, thick description so readers will be able to determine how closely their own situations match the research situation (Denzin, Lincoln, & Smith, 2008; Lincoln & Guba, 1990). The second strategy is typicality or modal categorization of how typical the individual is compared with other narrators in the research so that users can make comparisons with their own situations (Bryant & Charmaz, 2010; Creswell, 2007; Merriam, 2001). Finally was the use of multisite designs—the use of purposeful sampling of individuals to maximize diversity so results can be applied to a greater range of situations (Charmaz, 2011; Creswell, 2007; Yin, 2009).
Results
The results of the study represent a journey shared by all 10 narrators as they sought to reconcile two seemingly disparate identities—being Native Hawaiian and a Scientist. Narrators’ journeys began lacking the support they needed to achieve their goals. Schooling, in some cases, did not prepare them for college or did not see their interest in STEM as a priority. Many of the narrators were the first in their family to attend college. As such, their families were unprepared to support them logistically, mentally, or emotionally for college. Along their journeys, the narrators challenged stereotypes both in and out of class. They walked a lonely path and, at times, endured criticism for being members of both the Native Hawaiian and Science communities. However, each found support systems to help them achieve their professional goals. They also now see themselves as bridging the gap at the intersection cultural and professional identities.
Lack of Support
Lack of academic support
Many of the narrators complained about a lack of support within their high schools for their college aspirations. For example, participants who attended and graduated from public high schools were exasperated that certain college-prep classes were not offered as frequently as their private school counterparts. Additionally, they felt they were often not given an adequate level of advice in terms of continuing their education. Keala, a public high school graduate, shared his frustrations regarding the lack of support he got from his high school counselors. “It wasn’t until a week before I graduated that anyone told me how to go to college. I didn’t even take the SATs! Why didn’t anyone tell me about this?”
Interestingly, Hoku’s experiences mirrored Keala’s despite having graduated from a private school.
Hoku explained during her interviews that she: Always wanted to be a doctor but … there were no mentors. There were no women role models and they (teachers and school administrators) never talked about women being doctors. I was kind of ignorant about what to do and my parents didn’t know how to guide me either.
Reaching beyond parents’ experiences
In addition to the social, historical, familial, and academic challenges, there is also the psychological challenge of reaching beyond parental experiences—a theme consistent among underrepresented minorities in higher education and the sciences (McCarron & Inkelas, 2006; Zalaquett, 1999).
All of the narrator’s parents and/or grandparents held labor-intensive jobs that required little to no formal education. Each of the narrators praised their parent’s abilities to provide for their family. They also acknowledged that they were lucky to have had the opportunity to go beyond previous generations of Native Hawaiians, particularly their own parents and grandparents, educationally.
Students with no familial background in higher education face a steeper learning curve in adjusting to life at the university level. For example, Hoku, Keli‘i, and Lawai‘a believe this is a factor affecting the number of Native Hawaiians going in higher education. Kaipo agreed and felt that this is one of the main reasons that there are not many Native Hawaiians in science classes and labs, in particular. Kaipo explained “If parents did not go to college, take advanced and academic track classes … then their children would be more likely to feel pressured to pursue a (post high school) job as opposed to a (post baccalaureate) career.”
Kaipo continued and pointed out that due to previous inequities, many Native Hawaiians lack “historical support” as they pursue degrees in professional fields.
Kaipo explained: A friend of mine’s dad is a doctor and his grandfather was a doctor too. There’s a lineage, a history, within that family of going to college and going into a professional field. I think we (Native Hawaiians) are at a disadvantage there. Neither of my parents considered going to college and in my grandparents’ generation it was unheard of.
Almost all of the narrators commented on the high value their parents placed on education. However, the lack of familial experience in attending college, attaining higher education degrees, and entering a professional field presents unique challenges. Aloha, Kahelelani, Pōmaika‘i, and Lawai‘a spoke of how their parents did not understand the steps that were necessary for them to attend college. Kahelelani explained that her parents “definitely wanted me to go and were supportive of me” and “tried to do their best to help me.”
Whether it involved learning the steps to apply to college or making the grades to be accepted, all of the narrators developed varying degrees of self-motivation and self-reliance. Many took it upon themselves to learn the steps that were needed to attend college. Once there, narrators found both new social and academic opportunities as well as preconceived notions of ability and status waiting for them.
Being Alone and Tokenism
Science is often portrayed as being neutral to race, ethnicity, and gender. Personal and cultural characteristics and connections are extremely important to the majority of the narrators in this project. Yet, many admitted that their cultural identity did not always agree with their academic identity. Solomon, Greenberg, and Pyszczynski (1991) stress that such oppositional worldviews can create self-esteem issues as individual navigate and reconcile individual and group identities. Although being Hawaiian enabled narrators to offer a different perspective and to be a bridge between Hawaiian and science communities, some developed feelings of isolation and loneliness.
Being one of only a handful of Native Hawaiians in the classroom or laboratory often leads the narrators to experience feelings of insecurity, alienation, and isolation as well as instances of tokenism. Of the 10 narrators, Pōmaika‘i and Lawai‘a were the only individuals in this project to experience any overtly racially charged comments from others.
Lawai‘a, for example, inferred from a professor’s comments that he should change majors because the professor felt he was not smart enough. Instead, Lawai‘a seized that moment as an opportunity to prove that professor wrong. Along those lines, Pōmaika‘i spoke of comments made by a colleague who said that she, “really looked good on paper and then mentioned something about how lucky I was that there were affirmative action policies.” According to Pōmaika‘i, negative comments like those made her question her self-worth as both a Native Hawaiian and a Scientist. She also spoke of graduate students and professors wanting to call up minority program leaders and “ask them about the selection process and how rigorous it was.” The implication, according to Pōmaika‘i, was that Native Hawaiians did not belong in those degree programs.
I was the Poster Child for Diversity
The multiethnic identity of the narrators in this project is representative of the diversity of Hawai‘i as a whole. That diversity, however, does not exist in science, technology, engineering, and math-related fields. Despite increases, Native Hawaiian students are still underrepresented in the sciences in Hawai‘i (Balutski & Wright, 2013; Hawaii State Department of Education, 2017; National Science Foundation, 2017; State of Hawaii Department of Education, 2006–2007; University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa, 2017; Watkins-Victorino, 2016). Degree programs at the university level have sought to create diversity through measures such as affirmative action, scholarship programs for underrepresented minorities, minority student cohorts, and targeted peer/faculty academic mentoring (Dennis et al., 2005; Hurtado, Caberra, Lin, Arellano, & Espinosa, 2009; Hurtado et al., 2011).
Unfortunately, some college and university degree programs use minority students as poster children for the success of their efforts at creating diversity. Eight of the 10 narrators experienced some level of this tokenism during their academic and professional careers.
Lawai‘a expressed the sentiments of most of the narrators succinctly: Sometimes people take advantage of the fact that I’m Native Hawaiian and they put me out there in kind of a dog and pony show. They point to me and say ‘this is our diversity. We have a Native Hawaiian graduate student!’
Kahelelani shared a similar experience applying for an internship. “I was the poster child. They wanted to utilize the fact that I was Hawaiian and female.” Along those lines, all of the female narrators (Melemele, Hīhīmanu, Pōmaika‘i, Kahelelani, and Hoku) spoke of the additional challenges they experienced as Native Hawaiian women in science-related fields. These included paternalistic and patronizing tones from male peers, cultural assumptions from classmates and professors, sexist language in manuals, classes, and labs, and even animosity from other female scientists and engineers.
Narrators used words such as “disappointing,” “shitty,” “unsettling,” “sadness,” and “disrespected” when describing the feelings that resulted from these tokenism-related experiences. Kahelelani and other narrators explained that they felt devalued. While tokenistic experiences were troubling, they ultimately reinforced the narrators’ passion to be their own person and not an assigned label or identity as well as their desire to be seen as scientists by Hawaiians and non-Hawaiians alike.
The importance of this professional desire was conveyed by several of the narrators. “I don’t want to be accepted (just) because I’m Hawaiian,” noted Kaipo. “I want to be accepted because I’m on the same caliber as everyone else” in the science classroom, laboratory, and degree program. Lawai‘a also explained that, “I’ve always felt that I wanted to be respected as a scientist, that I do good science, rather that I’m just Hawaiian. I want to be known as both.”
Being a first-generation Native Hawaiian college student in science comes with many of the same academic, social, and emotional challenges that face other first-generation minority college students. “First-generation students often stand at the edge of two cultures, that of their friends and family and that of their college” (Zalaquett, 1999, p. 417).
A Brown Face in a White Coat
Narrators’ experience in science degree programs included occasional experiences of social/cultural stigma and negative stereotyping from professors, peers, colleagues, and even other members of the Hawaiian community. Each narrator recalled different degrees and types of stereotypical categorization. Lawai‘a, Keala, and Hīhīmanu’s, in particular, had experiences related to the perception of their intelligence and ability. Their experiences were compounded by the fact that there are few, if any, Native Hawaiian professors in the sciences.
Hīhīmanu commented that the stereotype Native Hawaiian students in STEM have to contend with is “that Hawaiians are the groundskeeper, the janitor, the construction worker, the hotel worker—all those base salary or minimum wage jobs.” Keala built upon these comments explaining that he was rarely encouraged to seek higher education.
According to Keala: No one ever said (to me) ‘you’re so smart. You should go to school and be a doctor or a botanist.’ It was always … ’you should be one of those people that work at the hotels because you’re so handsome and speak so well.’
Comments like these, according to the narrators, made them feel inferior.
Barriers to Native Hawaiians in the sciences have led to the creation of programs that target Native Hawaiians for entrance to STEM degree programs for which they may not otherwise qualify. Hoku, a beneficiary of such a program, celebrates the opportunities that were opened up to her.
Hoku elaborated: There are so many more barriers that the Native Hawaiian kids have to overcome to even be able to compete (in the sciences). Hawaiians are the poorest of poor. How can you get them college ready when they’re not able to have food on the table or light to do homework?
Programs like this, narrators argue, give Hawaiian students the chance to demonstrate that they can handle the academic intensity of higher education and create diversity within STEM-related fields. On the other hand, some narrators worried that such programs also perpetuate the stereotype that Native Hawaiians are not smart or talented enough to succeed on their own.
Hawaiian identity has certain advantages. Narrators admitted that their cultural identity opened doors for them that included internships, grants, and scholarships. Several were encouraged by college and career counselors to emphasize their Hawaiian identity. This mirrors experiences of Latino/a students who were told to use their Hispanic names as much as possible (Gándara, 2006; Hurtado et al., 2009, 2011) and is similar to racial/cultural experiences of other minority college students including African Americans/Blacks (Johnson, 2007; Russell & Atwater, 2005; Stewart, 2008).
Breaking Barriers and Challenging Stereotypes
The very nature of being an underrepresented minority person in a STEM-related field presented narrators with opportunities to break barriers created and reinforced by the culture of science and to challenge stereotypes related to Hawaiian students.
Negative comments and stereotypes from the science community were not altogether unexpected. However, the narrators spoke about the unexpectedly high level of criticism from within the Hawaiian community itself. One the effects of such negativity and stereotyping from the Hawaiian community, according to the narrators, that it perpetuates a sense that, for example, Hawaiians do not have what it takes to be scientists and that science is not a “Hawaiian thing.”
Hīhīmanu commented on how “the majority of Hawaiians I’ve talked to didn’t even know that they could do (science). They’re not even expecting it from themselves and they’re thinking they can’t do it before they even try.” Kahelelani, Lawai‘a and Pōmaika‘i echoed Hīhīmanu’s frustration. Pōmaika‘i explained how “when I told people my degree was in the sciences, they were surprised because they assumed it was in Hawaiian Studies or Hawaiian Language.”
Keala explained: Ancient Hawaiians were extremely intelligent and did a lot of diverse things in diverse fields. It empowers me to be the same way. It really raised my own self-awareness of who I am, where I came from, and what my people did.
Melemele also noted: Coming to school and learning about the history of Hawai’i in Hawaiian studies broke my heart but it opened my mind too. It inspires me because it helps me to understand the world and it helps me to be more aware of what’s going on around me.
Finding Support
Various support mechanisms have shown to be an important gauge of first-generation minority student success. Research suggests that individual motivation, parental support and involvement, and peer support are major factors determining the success of underrepresented minorities in science (Brotman & Moore, 2008; Dennis et al., 2005; McCarron & Inkelas, 2006). Studies have also shown that students attending colleges with lower percentages of underrepresented minorities in science, math, and engineering experience difficulty in acclimating to university life and expectations (Cole & Espinoza, 2008; Dennis et al., 2005; Hurtado et al., 2009). Each of the narrators acknowledged the challenges they faced as underrepresented minorities in higher education in Hawai‘i and in the sciences. They also acknowledged that the support they received throughout their academic and professional journeys made their successes possible.
Family support
The most important source of support came from the narrators’ families. McCarron and Inkelas (2006) have concluded that “parental involvement was clearly the best predictor” (p. 544) of success for first-generation students in college. Despite a lack of experience with higher education and professional fields, almost all of the narrators spoke of the unconditional support they received from family members. Many emphasized the importance of parents “being there” and “being present” in their lives as a major supportive influence. Whether it was hula practice, band, sports, or summer science camps, the influence and support of the narrators’ parents and extended family cannot be understated.
Academic advisors
A great deal of support for the narrators came in the form of academic and professional advisors during and after college. This theme is especially poignant since, as cited previously, many of the narrators experienced a lack of academic support prior to entering college. Analysis revealed that some mentor relationships were informal. For Kaipo, a family friend became a personal and academic mentor who helped guide him toward potential career pathways. For Hoku, a doctor who cared for her during childhood illnesses later became an academic advisor during her medical residency.
The academic and emotional support gained from advisors and mentors was invaluable to the narrator’s careers. Lawai‘a, Pōmaika‘i, and Hoku spoke of how their advisors were voices of reassurance when they were filled with self-doubt. Lawai‘a derived strength from his advisor and committee, both of which were “really supportive of … doing scientific research and incorporating cultural aspects in to it.”
The positive impact of mentors was strong enough that many of the narrators became mentors themselves as they progressed through their academic and professional careers. Both Pōmaika‘i and Hoku were lead advisors in the same programs that supported them.
Keli‘i indicated: (Mentors) have had a tremendous influence on my life and…I think about how I’ve been able to live up to the expectations they had of me. It’s not necessarily about me being a unique person or wanting to be my own star. It’s wanting to fulfill the expectations that they saw in me and … utilize all of those gifts and talents to the greatest extent possible.
With support, most narrators saw their minority status as a positive quality and have used it as an opportunity to show both Hawaiians and non-Hawaiians alike that Hawaiian students are capable of succeeding in the sciences. Narrators revealed that being a Native Hawaiian in STEM affords them a certain amount of status as well as responsibility. Lawai‘a elaborated, “I felt that there were few (Hawaiians) who could go into the sciences and take their culture with them. That’s a niche that I can fill!” For Aloha, his responsibility has been a driving force for him as both a parent and member of the Hawaiian community. Keala also takes his responsibility personally: I just feel like I have to set an example. It’s a lot of pressure. I want to be that role model for my family and for my community. I want other Hawaiian kids to see me and think, ‘I can do that too!’
Student cohorts
The lack of genuine interest shown by science departments for the experiences and well-being of underrepresented students has been cited as a reason for the stagnation in the number of women and minorities pursuing graduate degrees and careers in academia despite increases in those groups pursuing undergraduate degrees (National Science Foundation, 2013). One of the biggest factors that contributed to the success of the narrators in this project was a variety of support mechanisms during their academic journey. Supporting students has fallen to programs aimed at alleviating the isolation that underrepresented students, particularly indigenous students, feel upon entering the university community.
As a cultural minority in higher education, many narrators also benefited from Native Hawaiian STEM cohorts. Peer cohorts, particularly those made of students from similar racial, ethnic, cultural, and economic backgrounds, tend to be a rich source of support for first-generation college students (Brotman & Moore, 2008; Phinney, Dennis, & Osorio, 2006; Thompson & Bolin, 2011). At the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa, a joint initiative in 2001 between the College of Engineering and Kamakakuokalai Center for Hawaiian Studies led to the creation of the Native Hawaiian Science & Engineering Mentorship Program. Based on the Alaska Native Science and Engineering Program, Native Hawaiian Science & Engineering Mentorship Program was one of several support programs from which the narrators who were involved benefitted from socially, psychologically, and academically.
One of the most important aspects of these cohorts was the realization that the narrators were not as alone as previously imagined. This reduced anxiety about being one of few Native Hawaiians in STEM. Along with an emphasis on guidance and peer support, Native Hawaiian STEM programs have also provided narrators with financial resources, scholarships, grants, paid research, and internship opportunities so they could realize their academic and professional goals. For Pōmaika‘i, “It was the building of an academic community which included mentoring, reinforcing of cultural values (i.e., respecting, working with and appreciating others), service learning projects with a cultural relevance” that also drew her to such a group. Hīhīmanu and Hoku agreed that community involvement and cultural reinforcement are keys to such programs in addition to academic support.
Narrators discovered the bond that develops through academic programs can be difficult to explain to others who have never had those experiences. Keala said he felt isolated from members of his family and community because of his interest in pursuing a college degree. As graduate students, Lawai‘a, Pōmaika‘i, and Kahelelani felt these same effects. “A disadvantage of having so few Hawaiians in graduate science programs,” according to Pōmaika‘i, “is that I don’t really have anybody in my field to talk to who’s Native Hawaiian that can really understand some of the stuff I’m going through.”
Cohorts for Native Hawaiian students in STEM-related degrees provided support for both a broad spectrum of STEM students as well as focused support within particular degree fields. For some narrators, cohort participation also made up for a lack of support and understanding by their families and friends.
Conclusion
The experiences of these narrators mirror themes and experiences of other racial/ethnic minority first-generation college students. Achieving their goals required a combination of inherent interest in the sciences, skills to navigate the uncharted waters of the college application, scholarship, and student loan processes and the personal strength to challenge the status quo for both scientific and Hawaiian communities. Although they faced obstacles, they recognize that their experiences can create opportunities for organizations interested in supporting minority groups in the sciences. Additionally, these same experiences have the potential to inspire future Native Hawaiian students enrolled in STEM majors both here in Hawai‘i and elsewhere in the world.
At the conclusion of this study, the narrators left some food for thought regarding the future of Native Hawaiians in STEM-related fields. First, all of the narrators were adamant that the science community must recognize what underrepresented minorities can bring to discussions and research agendas. Kelii explained that “saying you want to hire Native Hawaiian scientists while expressing little or no interest in Hawaiian epistemology/methodology will not foster trust between the Hawaiian and science communities and will not get Hawaiian students excited about science.”
Taum (2010) notes that, “despite the rhetoric, Hawaiian culture has continued to be treated as a ‘value added’—like condiments rather than the entrée. The time has come to elevate culture to a more prominent place on the menu of offerings (p. 37).” Despite efforts to improve relations, some of the narrators still question the motives of STEM-related departments, programs, and industry members. Are they (STEM-related industry) are looking for individuals who can bring new perspectives, tools, and methodologies to STEM research? Or is it because they want to appear diverse?
Additionally, many of the narrators found the support they needed through STEM cohorts. However, they questioned UHM’s support of such programs since these programs are grant-based. As a result, they are subject to fluctuations in the amount and types of support they can provide from one year to the next based on the amount of funding they receive. The narrators felt that there needs to be a commitment by The State of Hawai‘i and UHM to make Native Hawaiians and nonculturally based programs more sustainable.
Narrators felt a dedicated faculty member in each college, similar to The University of Aukland’s Tuākana (older sibling) Programme (Tuākana, 2013), could provide support and guidance specific to the needs of degree programs and the Native Hawaiian students enrolled in them. These faculty members could also be culturally appropriate role models. Such integration would send a powerful signal to both the scientific and Hawaiian communities that colleges of science and engineering in Hawai‘i take the needs of Hawaiian students seriously.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
