Native Hawaiians hit hard by COVID-19 surge in state
HONOLULU – Kuulei Perreira-keawekane could barely breathe when she went to a Hawaii emergency room. Nausea made it difficult for her to stand and her body throbbed with pain.
Like many Native Hawaiians, she was not vaccinated against COVID-19.
Perreira-keawekane’s situation is an example of the COVID-19 crisis that is gripping Hawaii as hospitals are overflowing with a record number of patients, vaccinations are stagnating and Hawaiians are experiencing a disproportionate share of the suffering.
Hawaii was once seen as a beacon of safety during the pandemic because of stringent travel and quarantine restrictions and overall vaccine acceptance that made it one of the most inoculated states in the country. But the highly contagious delta variant exploited weaknesses as residents let down their guard and attended family gatherings after months of restrictions and vaccine hesitancy lingered in some Hawaiian communities.
On Friday, the state reported a record 1,035 newly confirmed cases. There was a higher amount reported earlier this month, but it included cases from multiple days because of lab reporting delays.
Now, the governor is urging tourists to stay away and residents to limit travel, and leaders are reimposing caps on sizes of social gatherings. And to address vaccine hesitancy, a group of businesses and nonprofits launched a public service campaign Thursday aimed at Native Hawaiians, many of whom harbor a deep distrust of the government dating to the U.s.-supported overthrow of the monarchy in 1893.
The campaign reminds Hawaiians that they were nearly wiped out by disease in the 1800s and that the kingdom’s rulers at the time pushed people to get vaccinated against smallpox.
About 20 Hawaiian leaders stood in rows 6 feet apart Thursday at a statue of Queen Lili’uokalani, the kingdom’s last monarch, imploring people to wear masks and get vaccinated to ensure the survival of the Indigenous people of Hawaii.
“Not only was I afraid of the needles and just putting it off, putting it off, but I didn’t have enough information about the vaccine and that distrust was just very real,” said Perreira-keawekane.
She said she now plans to get vaccinated. Still, she doesn’t consider herself pro-vaccine, or anti-vaccine.
“Having to choose one or the other is the root of trauma for native people,” she said. “You can shout data at the top of your lungs, but if it has nothing to do with people we know, it’s not real.”
Overall, 62.1% of Hawaii is fully vaccinated. But Hawaiians have among the lowest rates; estimates showed it’s at about 40%.
Native Hawaiians make up about 21% of the state’s population, and from the start of the pandemic until July 10, they accounted for 21% of cases, as well. But from July 11 to Aug. 16, that figured increased to 28%, according to state data.
Honolulu Emergency Services Department Director Jim Ireland said that on a recent morning, there were four COVID-19 patient 911 calls in a row for Nanakuli, a community that’s home to many Native Hawaiians. He said vaccination rates are lower on the west side of Oahu.
Earlier in the pandemic, Native Hawaiians had among the lowest rates of infection and embraced safety measures such as trading honi, a traditional forehead-to-forehead greeting, for elbow bumps or shakas from a distance.
That changed around May during the time of year when people celebrate graduations and weddings.
The irony is not lost on some that a popular reason for Hawaii family parties today originated during a time when Hawaiians would hold big celebrations for a baby’s first birthday, which was a real feat in the face of measles until a vaccine was available.
“I do think that it’s sad and kind of a little bit ironic that luau, in a lot of cases, have become places where people get sick,” said state Sen. Jarrett Keohokalole.