I don't know if they still post the high school educational rankings in the Honolulu Star Bulletin or Advertiser, as they did in the 1970s. Whenever it came out we didn't have to look on the front page to see where Nanakuli High and Intermediate School ranked, you just turned to the last page of the "A" section and looked on the bottom. We usually ranked last in English and Math. Auwe! And instead if feeling bad about it, we sort of celebrated by chanting in unison, "We numba one! We numba one!" Dat's how smart we was.
Going to class was easy under the new curriculum. Lot of core subjects like Math, English and Social Studies became optional. Instead of having these subjects for four years, you only had to take it for one year. Learning how to spell, structure a sentence or count was a choice. Imagine choosing between Algebra I and PE ... gee, which one I like take for one hour? Do I enjoy busting my brain or playing volleyball? Not too many Hawaiian students were cramming Miss Yafuso's Math class, except for a couple of Japanese kids who were in the Rocket Club. A student could take five periods of PE, eat lunch and go home. But dat's okay because dat's how you stay numba one!
Wen signing up for classes you had to plan your strategy with your kolohe friends. It didn't matter what your folks thought was best for you ... your friends were smarter. "Eh, Kapaku, wat you goin take, Bonnell's History class or Cooking? You betta sign up now cause da class is getting full."
So instead of listening to your mudda and fudda and take Social Studies, I wen listen to my friends and somehow graduated. We had twenty-four guys and two girls in da class. And on the first day of class, my friend Reynolds came to Cooking class and wen ask the teacher, "So wen we goin start eating?" The teacher replied, "We won't be cooking till next quarter." Reynolds looked at her suspiciously and said, "Okay, I'll see you next quarter." And he never came back. Later we found out that Cooking Class was camouflaged by the old course title, Home Economics.
English class was for the birds. We got into a beeg argument about learning to communicate through proper English. About 95% of the class debated that pidgin-english was good enough and you didn't need "real English" to survive in the job market. As long as you were able to communicate and people understood what you were saying that was good enough ... well actually, as long as the boss neva make you write anything you was fine. Fortunately for the 5% who argued for proper English they graduated as valedictorians and salutatorians. And there were others who graduated with high honors and now have high paying jobs supporting their families. The rest of the 95% started working at Kunia throwing pineapples into a conveyor belt.
If lunch was a subject, the cafeteria would be full to the max. I remember wen lunch used to cost a quarter. You got five portions on your plate. And those who had tokens could get an extra milk. How da heck? We pay cash for our lunch and get one milk, but those who had tokens got two milk. Those who had tokens and wanted a quarter would usually sell their tokens. Some guys used to go to the office and steal tokens out of the DOE (Department of Education) can and sell them. When they got the money, they went to Hakimo road to the chicken fight and gambled. My friend use to say, "Eh, you like make money ... give me your quarter and I make you money! My uncle got one chicken dat neva lose yet!" The next day you realize dat you lost your quarter and the chicken wen die. But your friend still had the nerve to ask again da next day, "Eh, you like make money, my uncle got this other chicken dat neva lose yet." I think his uncle was eating chicken every night.
Wen the waves was up, classes were thirty-five percent full. Students felt it was their God-given right to enjoy the waves instead of being educated. But at 11:30am wen it was lunch time, the building came alive with students coming in with wet shorts and sand in da hair. Finally the school started shutting the gates and locking out all the students that played hookie. Holding the iron bars with two hands, the hookie players cried in anguish, "Let us in, we hungry ... come on, let us in ... we not going do dis again." Then they would spot someone they knew, reach through the bars with their quarter in hand and beg, "Eddie Boy, Eddie Boy, here my quarter, get me lunch, I hungry. Eddie Boy, eh Eddie come over here. Eh, where you going? Come over here. Eh you punk, I catch you after school I going kick your okole." Den finding someone else they beg again, "Pssst ... eh Momilani, here my quarter, get me some lunch, I hungry. I going take you out next Friday to Nakatani's Drive-In afta da homecoming game if you get me lunch. Eh Momi, come back ... okay, okay, I take you to Alvins instead of Nakatani's." It worked all the time.
With all its flaws, somehow we graduated from Nanakuli High School and got smarter in life. I look back and laugh at the stupid things we use to do and say. It seems the things we didn't think were important have now become significant priorities in our everyday lives. Hopefully, the educational system at Nanakuli High and Intermediate School has improved. So when I read the Star Bulletin or Advertiser, I do not have to wander to the back page to see my alma mater's ranking and chant, "We numba one! We numba one! I'm hoping we're on the front page this time.
About Author
Reverend David Kapaku was born at Kapiolani Hospital and grew up in Nanakuli. He graduated in 1976 then moved to Ft. Wayne, Indiana to attend college. He has completed his Masters at Oakland City Graduate School of Theology and will complete his Doctorate in 2001. His parents still live in Nanakuli on Mano Avenue.
