Native Hawaiian ‘Iolani students, watching a new lawsuit against Kamehameha Schools’ admissions policy, say it feels like watching one of their last lifelines to Hawaiian culture being cut in real time. The case, filed in October 2025 by Students for Fair Admissions in federal court in Honolulu, argues that Kamehameha’s policy of giving preference to Native Hawaiian applicants amounts to unlawful race-based discrimination in contracting. Founded in 1887 through the will of Princess Bernice Pauahi Bishop, Kamehameha Schools has defended its mission to improve the well-being of Native Hawaiians through education.
Students for Fair Admissions, led by Mr. Edward Blum, contends that Kamehameha’s admissions policy operates as a “categorial racial bar.” In its public statements and complaints, the group says applicants with Native Hawaiian ancestry are considered first and that the school “strives to ensure those leftover seats never exist,” leaving non-Native students with virtually no chance to enroll. The organization argues that this violates federal civil rights statute 42 U.S.C § 1981, which guarantees equal rights to make and enforce contracts regardless of race. In a written statement, Blum has said that “Kamehameha can keep its mission, its culture, and its curriculum but it cannot bar children because of their race.” In other words, Blum argued that Native Hawaiian culture can be celebrated without ancestry-based barriers.
Amid the high-profile lawsuit, Native Hawaiian ‘Iolani students are expressing their feelings and finding their own ways to protest, from petitions and poetry to everyday use of ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi, arguing that the case threatens their last secure pathways to Hawaiian culture, language and community. Lia D. ’27 said that the heart of the conflict reflects a lack of historical awareness: “The main disagreement is that the people who are making the lawsuit think that what they’re doing is right, while not knowing Hawaiʻi’s full history.”
For these students, the Kamehameha School’s admissions policy is not just a rule but a promise of education for Hawaiians from Princess Bernice Pauahi Bishop, that they believe outside organizations have no right to rewrite. “It is a private school and it’s funded by [a] private trust… [Pauahi] wanted education for Hawaiians by Hawaiians,” said Pūlama C. ’28.
Expressing frustration at what she views as interference with that legacy, Kaleimaika‘i F. ’27 said, “This is the will of Pauahi, and they’re going in and trying to change what they have absolutely no right to do so.” To describe it further, she used an analogy: “if one of your parents dies and they leave you this house, people are getting mad at you and suing you because you’re not letting everyone live in your house.”
The students framed the lawsuit as part of a much longer pattern of colonization, in which Native Hawaiians are pushed out of their land, priced out of their home and now threatened in one of the few remaining Hawaiian-centered educational spaces. “It’s really just like an evil act towards a group that’s already been so oppressed and is subject to so many deteriorating factors,” said Kaleimaika‘i. “They’ve already been alienated in their home, been priced out of paradise and now you’re going and trying to take one of the few things that they have left.”
Drawing attention to the lack of capacity for Hawaiians, Lia said, “Students for Fair Admissions claim that they want to be equal and want to fight for equality, but it’s already not really equal for Hawaiians in Hawaiʻi.” The lawsuit lands especially hard for students when access to Kamehameha schooling is limited, and that scarcity makes the lawsuit feel personal to some. “Personally, I’ve tried to get into Kamehameha many times… I didn’t get accepted until my final year of applying, so ninth grade,” said Lia.
Many students see a deep tension between abstract calls for “colorblind” equality and the lived reality of historical harm, arguing that people like Edward Blum lack the experience and historical awareness to decide what is fair for Native Hawaiians. “I understand how he finds it racially discriminatory,” said Pūlama. “But at the same time, it’s not his place to say that.” Pūlama added, “[Blum] never had to endure the struggles that every Kānaka Maoli has to endure.”
Even for those who did not grow up immersed in Hawaiian language or traditions, finding their way into Hawaiian education has become deeply healing and an identity-shaping process. “I personally grew up very separate from my culture. My culture was not found in my home, really at all,” said Kaleimaika‘i. Through learning ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi and hula, she said she has reconnected with her roots: “I’ve found my culture. So right now I’m on my path of trying to incorporate my culture into my life as much as possible.” Describing how this connection defines how she understands herself, Lia said, “Whenever people ask me what I am or who I am, the first thing that I answer with is, I’m Hawaiian… It’s a huge part of my identity that I carry with me every single day.”
This case also surfaces painful questions about blood quantum and belonging, challenging the idea that “being Hawaiian” can be measured purely by ancestry. Regardless, these students describe being Hawaiian less as a label and more as a responsibility to ʻāina and community. “People like to quantify being Hawaiian, and I wholeheartedly hate that saying ‘being not Hawaiian enough,’” said Lia. She added, “Hawaiʻi is not ours alone, and it should be cared for, but as the indigenous people of the land, we have a responsibility to it…We want other people to see that responsibility that we have and that we’re trying to grow our culture, even if it’s just from this little plot of land that they own in Hawaiʻi.”
Even when they cannot physically join protests at Kamehameha Schools, ʻIolani students have looked for ways to show support. “We don’t go to school there, so it’s hard to actually be able to participate in things like the protests, because it physically doesn’t work with our schedules. We have to be [at ʻIolani],” said Kaleimaika‘i. “But still, I tried to do everything that I felt I could to share.” These efforts include using ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi in daily life, signing petitions and writing poetry. Kaleimaika‘i wrote a poem titled, “To Edward Blum,” which was sent to Blum himself.
Ultimately, students fear that if this lawsuit succeeds, it will not only erode one of the few remaining Hawaiian‑centered schools but also weaken trusts and wills everywhere — and with them, the future of Hawaiian education. “I personally think that if one group of people is able to sue a private trust or a private will, and he wins, then in the future, that just weakens what a trust is and what a will is for everybody in the future,” said Pūlama. He added, “So when it is weakened for one community, it’s weakened for everybody.” Lia expresses hope for a balance: “Although it does seem like [Hawaiians are] just trying to keep it to themselves, we have to strengthen ourselves internally before we go ahead and spread our culture, language and aloha to the rest of the world. Kamehameha is one of the best ways we can do so.” As the case proceeds, ‘Iolani students continue to reflect on what its outcome might mean for Kamehameha’s admissions policy, but for the larger questions of how Hawai‘i protects and passes on its cultural foundations.
