A’o Aku A’o Mai

by Alberta Pualani Hopkins

            One of the first word games native speakers of English learn to play is “Opposites.” As children learning to speak we are taught to respond with the correct opposite word – come/go, teach/learn. Early on it is ingrained in our subconscious that not only are these things different from each other, they are in conflict and are contradictory to each other. After all, that is what it means to be opposite, to be opposed. In leaning to conceptualize in this fashion, it follows logically that only one action can be performed at a time. One of the most common English expressions of confusion is, “I don’t know if I was coming or going!”

            Embedded in the structure of English language are ways of seeing the world, one’s place in it, and one’s relation to others within it. So when professor and students come together in the classroom, teaching and learning are viewed as two discrete activities, performed by at least two different actors. There are two events, each with its own label; never mind that they involve a common group of participants acting simultaneously in a common setting. The vocabulary of opposites imposes its own dichotomy on what is happening, and the expectation of who plays what role is defined by this division.

            Contrast this with the holistic world view of Hawaiians and other Polynesians. Where English uses four words – come/go, teach/learn – Hawaiians use two – hele, a’o. How is this possible?

            We use the word “hele” to describe a person moving through space; whether a person is coming or going is really a matter of the perspective of the speaker. I would describe a person moving toward me, that is, coming as “hele mai”; when that person moves away from me, that is, goes, I would say “hele aku.” “Mai” and “aku” are directionals that describe the flow of any action in relation to the speaker. Of significance here is that there is only one action, and that this action changes directions and moves back and forth.

            So it is with the exchange of information and knowledge. Where English give us “teach” and “learn”, Hawaiian gives us “a’o aku, a’o mai.” When I gather with people in a classroom, we are all there to a’o. As I share my knowledge and understanding of a subject, from my perspective I am in the “a’o aku” mode; from the students’ perspective, it is “a’o mai” time. When I stop speaking and they respond with their insights and experiences, they begin to “a’o aku”, and it is my chance to “a’o mai”. We are engaged, then, in a common activity with an elliptical, reciprocal flow that informs and energizes all participants. This may be imagined as a process inside which teacher and student are brought into being as common participants.

            If a group of people can establish this pattern in a classroom, truly exciting things happen, and burnout and boredom are minimized. Accomplishing this atmosphere of mutual participation requires letting go of a lifetime of attitudes about who does what in a classroom so that assuming responsibility for keeping the action flowing back and forth belongs to everyone. Teachers must be willing to learn and students must be empowered to teach so that these processes can be transformed from an oppositional teaching/learning to reciprocal exchanging and sharing knowledge for the benefit of all.