If you’re active in local social media, you may have come across Elijah Kalā McShane. With over 100,000 followers on Instagram and more on TikTok, McShane has become one of the most visible Hawaiian faces discussing Hawaiian issues and culture. 

His high follower count can be read as a testament to how broadly resonant his perspectives are or, as some of his critics say, a tendency to soften and sugarcoat the more difficult aspects of Hawaiian history for wide audiences.

In recent weeks, criticism of McShane has ramped up, particularly over his “Pono Settler” course, a four-week program through which students learn Hawaiian history and culture with the goal of creating “a pathway for unity amongst all cultures living in Hawaiʻi.”

McShane describes it as an opportunity to provide education to non-Hawaiians who live here, whereas critics have described it as a way to soothe guilty haole consciences.

At the core of the contention is this question: Can settlers be pono?

Ideas showcases stories, opinion and analysis about Hawaiʻi, from the state’s sharpest thinkers, to stretch our collective thinking about a problem or an issue. Email news@civilbeat.org to submit an idea or an essay.

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Being able to call Hawaiʻi home is a tremendous privilege, and one that I enjoy as a direct result of historical wrongs. 

I went to Scotland earlier this summer, the land of my ancestors, and while it was a wonderful trip, there was nothing about Scotland that made me feel like I was home in any deep, spiritual way. 

Flying back to Hawaiʻi, though, seeing the familiar coastline while “Honolulu City Lights” involuntarily echoed through my mind — that never ceases to produce the same rising feeling within me, like a plant extending toward the sun. After a month away, seeing these familiar oceanic mountains jutting into the sky, it felt like I too was coming up for air.

I don’t doubt that my connection to Hawaiʻi is different, even shallower, than kānaka maoli, but I feel a connection nonetheless from growing up here. So when I ask if settlers can be pono, what I’m really asking is, can I be pono? Can I live in harmony with the island culture?

‘No Truly Pono Way To Occupy Stolen Land’

First, let’s define our terms. 

“The reason why I chose to use the word settler is because it clarifies to people who are moving to Hawaiʻi to accept that they are a settler, and that’s OK,” McShane said in an interview. “It’s not a harmful term. We live in a world of globalization. If you’re not from your ancestral homeland and you’re going to another place, you’re going to be a settler. Is that a bad thing? Maybe, maybe not.”

Adam Keawe Manalo-Camp, a Hawaiian and Pasifika historian, defines it differently. 

“’Settler’ is not just a neutral descriptor,” he said in a separate interview. “It names a relationship to privilege, power and land. It refers to someone who moves to a place already inhabited, often benefiting from systems that displace the original people. It’s not about where you were born, but about whether your presence contributes to the ongoing displacement or restoration of the Indigenous people.”

Thus, there is a difference between people who came here to work on plantations, or Micronesians who came here because the U.S. military bombed their homelands, and Americans who moved here “to find themselves” or “live in paradise.” 

McShane and Manalo-Camp – who were both included on Honolulu Magazine’s list of “10 Instagram Accounts to Follow to Learn More About Hawaiian Culture” – had similar definitions of pono.

“Pono means alignment, to be in balance, to live with integrity,” said McShane. “How I define it in this context is a person who, in thought, mind, heart and spirit, lives in alignment with the principles and values and actions that perpetuate what is right by all people, what is right by our ʻāina, our culture.”

Manalo-Camp said pono “at its core means balance and accountability. Not just morally, but spiritually and communally. It’s not an individualistic virtue; it’s about kuleana and the relationship with the land, the people, and the ancestors.”

Thus, to Manalo-Camp, the concept of a pono settler is inherently flawed. “There is no truly pono way to occupy stolen land,” he wrote on an Instagram post. 

“People often hear this and think it means ‘you are a bad person just for being here,’” he said. “That’s not the point. The point is: the land was taken and half of Hawaiians live in the diaspora because of settler colonialism, and no amount of yoga stretches, pink pussycat hats, rainbows and good intentions erases that foundational violence.”

“Pono is about restoring balance,” Manalo-Camp said. “You can’t restore balance by denying what was broken. You restore it by acknowledging your role in the system, by listening, by giving back land and power, amplifying Hawaiian issues, and by acting in solidarity.”

‘Whose Kuleana Is It?’

McShane first conceived of the Pono Settler course when he started posting about Hawaiian culture on social media. 

“I looked in the comments and saw a lot of combativeness between Hawaiians and non-Hawaiians,” he said. “Maybe a haole would do something ignorant and they filmed it and it goes viral, now the whole Hawaiian community is coming after them. They didn’t mean it, but that’s what happened. I can understand because I’m a human, and I make mistakes. There was a disconnect of education and awareness.”

“Non-Hawaiians living in Hawaiʻi didn’t understand why Hawaiians were acting and thinking in this particular way and projecting it on them,” McShane said. “Hawaiians didn’t want to teach them. Then whose kuleana is it? I started the Pono Settler course to ensure that people who were ready to learn, who were humble enough to come to the table, that there was a place for them to explore these harder points, so they could learn and do better and find where they fit in Hawaiʻi.”

Manalo-Camp sees value in educating people, “but not if it becomes a branding tool to morally cleanse settler presence. Teaching settlers not to harass turtles is not the same as teaching them how to divest from colonial land theft. If the class centers settler comfort rather than kānaka truth, it risks reproducing harm. We don’t need more polite settlers. We need accountable ones.”

“We teach kuleana,” McShane said. “I’m not for clearing a person’s conscience. That’s not my goal or intention. Are we going to have some students who feel that way? Maybe. But that’s a potential that I’m willing to take, because haoles already feel that way. It’s a pre-existing entitlement.”

“We teach them how to behave, how to coexist with a culture that has been here the longest, how to advocate for that culture and empower the people from that culture,” McShane said. “But you cannot even get there if you don’t understand trauma, or historical context, or Hawaiian values.”

For Manalo-Camp, “Settlers must ask: Am I making space for kānaka leadership? Am I redistributing my access and wealth? Am I confronting the systems that benefit me at their expense? How am I helping the community? They must have uncomfortable conversations. Singing the ho’oponopono prayer on a beach in Kailua with Elijah does not do that.”

“You can be haole and for the lāhui, just as you can be kānaka and not be for the lāhui,” Manalo-Camp said. “It’s not blood alone — it’s where your values and actions are aligned as well as recognizing your position to power and privilege. But being for the lāhui requires humility, accountability and the willingness to be uncomfortable. It’s not a sticker or identity. It’s a practice.”

‘It’s An Everlasting Journey’

So is it possible to be a pono settler?

“I think yes,” McShane said. “If people are prepared to learn, acclimate and integrate, that’s a pathway, but it’s not an easy path. If you show up at the Capitol for rallies, if you advocate and put your autograph on petitions that matter to Hawaiians. Really put who you are on the line, because it shows you care.”

“When you know better you can do better, but you cannot be pono if you don’t know what it means to be pono,” McShane said. “It’s an everlasting journey. It’s never going to stop. You’ve got to commit to it, but I think it is possible.”

Being able to call Hawaiʻi home is a tremendous privilege, and one that I enjoy as a direct result of historical wrongs.

“There is no such thing as a pono settler,” Manalo-Camp said. “But I do believe people can strive to be in a pono relationship with kānaka maoli and with Hawaiʻi itself. That begins with humility, not entitlement. It means educating oneself through Native voices, supporting Hawaiian-led organizations, and understanding that presence in Hawaiʻi carries a responsibility to dismantle the very systems that enabled that presence.”

“It means giving back,” Manalo-Camp said. “Not just money or time, but power, land and space. It means challenging settler entitlement, and recognizing that being for the lāhui is not about claiming identity or belonging, but about consistently showing up in ways that restore balance and uplift ea — the life force and sovereignty of kānaka maoli.

“Pono is not a title you earn; it’s a relationship you tend, with humility and kuleana, every single day.”