Immigrants arrive in Hawai'i with suitcases full of things they think they will need in their new homeland. They unpack rice cookers, packets of favorite food seasonings, thick down mattresses to allow them to sleep on the floor, pictures of family and friends, and clothing unique to their original homeland. As time passes, they unpack virtual suitcases as well. When gathering with friends they sing songs in the language they spoke while growing up, exchange jokes only funny to those with similar backgrounds, and talk about things they used to do.
Hawai'i's multicultural/multiethnic community is widely known. Not so widely known is that most of its sub-communities actively maintain dances from their heritage. Formal classes, performances at traditional and non-traditional events, and sponsorship of residencies by guest artists and companies from the homeland are among the ways in which dance forms of these groups are kept alive. In some instances efforts are made to perpetuate tradition, in others there is a conscious effort to deviate from it. In some instances practitioners and teachers were born in the country of their heritage, in others they are one or more generations removed from that heritage, and in several instances they have no biological link to the heritage of the dances they teach.
As populations across the globe shift, homogeneous communities become less the norm, and diasporic environments commonplace. As individuals leave their home countries to reside in other locales, they bring with them real and virtual suitcases. Among the contents of their virtual suitcases is dance, an item frequently removed to participate in and to put on display for others to see.
As individuals engage in dance in whatever ways they choose, it quickly becomes apparent that dance can serve as a visual reminder of one's heritage, a kinesthetic embodiment of that heritage, a teacher of ethnicity (either visually or kinesthetically), an affirmation of identity, and a way to share one's identity. But which dances serve these purposes and who determines the dances to be taught and presented?
In Hawai'i the state's constitution specifies "the State shall have the power to preserve and develop the cultural, creative and traditional arts of its various ethnic groups." (1) Nothing is said, however, with regard to who has the right to this power. In many instances the individuals who make decisions have direct heritage links to the dances they teach, and they choose to perpetuate older dance forms, such as Japanese bon odori, (2) Korean court dance, (3) or Muslim-influenced dances of the Philippines. At other times, individuals who may or may not have heritage links contribute to organizational decisions that create policies and offer financial support for individual projects.
Hawai'i's State Foundation on Culture and the Arts helps to assure the constitution's provision for supporting the arts of various ethnic groups. One of its programs establishes apprenticeships that allow for the one-on-one study of the arts, including dance. Foundation guidelines for this program limit support to "traditional art forms," with the intent of contributing to preservation and perpetuation; the de facto dances supported are those of bygone eras. Despite creativity and experimentation occurring in heritage countries as well as in the islands, creativity and experimentation are not supported. In this instance power lies in the hands of those who set policies and hold the purse strings. Decisions are based on notions of tradition, often as defined by individuals outside of the tradition itself, and the on-goingness of tradition is ignored. As a result, limitations on what can be supported may even discourage innovation.
In other instances individuals have greater power of agency. A number of years ago, for example, Halla Pai Huhm, who was born in Korea and for almost fifty years maintained a Korean dance studio in Honolulu, decided to showcase Korean shamanism through dance. She invited a shaman from Korea to participate, in a manner approximating an actual ritual, in a performance, and choreographed several dances for the performance based on movements used in shaman rituals. The parents of a number of children studying at her studio refused to allow their offspring to join in the performance. (The parents were born and raised in Korea; the children were born and raised in Hawai'i.) Despite the fact that shamanism was, and still is, an important contributor to life in Korea, Christianity has become the religion of choice of many Koreans in both Korea and Hawai'i. The Hawai'i parents were comfortable with their children learning and performing dances of Korea's court, which no longer exists; they found dances rooted in a religion they did not practice, even when the dances were done for concert presentation rather than religious purposes, problematic-despite the fact that concert performances rooted in shamanistic practices can be seen in Korea today.
In this instance a recognized dancer of Korean heritage made her own decisions regarding what to teach and what to present. And individuals of similar heritage countermanded this decision.
In the earliest days of immigration to Hawai'i dances of newly-arrived people were usually taught by individuals who had learned them in their home countries, or at the very least seen them performed in indigenous settings. Among subsequent generations dance has been taught by individuals who never studied in their home country, who do not know the language of their heritage, who never saw the dances performed in an original setting, and in some instances by individuals who have no direct connection to the heritage of the dances they teach. In one instance a woman of Japanese heritage learned and began to teach Chinese dance, garnering considerable support from the Chinese community and regular expressions of appreciation for her efforts. In another instance a woman of European-American heritage learned and began to teach Korean dance, but received mixed support from the Korean community. Some were grateful for her help in continuing an aspect of their culture about which they knew little; others believed that since she was not of Korean ancestry she could not fully understand, and therefore teach, "real" Korean dance. Here the extent of knowledge and who has the right to transmit it become issues. Are there things about dance that can only be passed on through heredity? Or is it a matter of growing up in a culture, and not a matter of genetic roots? Is it possible for an ethnic outsider to know more about dance than an insider? In diasporic settings have some individuals become outsiders to their own culture, while individuals of other ethnic backgrounds have become more like insiders? Have the complex backgrounds that result from intermarriages and removal from the geographic site of the mother heritage blurred the lines between insiders and outsiders?
Because dance is a nonverbal art form, and because we all have bodies that can serve as the instrument of dance, many consider dance a universal language. But scholarship has clearly shown that meanings embedded in dance cannot be read like an open book. (4) While it is possible to appreciate the nature of movements performed, costuming, and sounds to which our ears are not accustomed, it is often impossible to understand what these things mean without knowledge of the culture from which they come. This raises significant issues for the presentation of dances originating in other cultures. Should they be showcased simply for their exotic appeal? Must there be extensive narration or program notes to explain what is displayed? How important is it for dance to be placed in the context of education rather than simply that of entertainment? And what happens when presenters are not cognizant of what is appropriate for a particular dance form?
Recently in Hawai'i a student of Japanese heritage who had studied South Indian bharata natyam was invited to perform at a multicultural festival. When she arrived at the performance venue, she was distraught to learn that she would perform on a stage in a cafeteria, and that spectators would be eating lunch while she danced. Despite the fact that bharata natyam is no longer performed for religious purposes in temple settings, she felt a more respectful atmosphere was in order.
Similar situations occur in Hawai'i because of the frequency with which dance is used as an identity marker. (5) Most often it is the dance forms of previous times that are used to create an instant image of the ethnic backgrounds of people in the island population. It is these dances that are regularly included on May Day programs, at school assemblies, and in beauty pageants. But how appropriate is it to include, for example, Japanese bon odori, dances traditionally, and still, today, done as part of festivals to honor the deceased, in completely unrelated contexts? And why should modern creations not be showcased to demonstrate that distant lands have both a past and a present?
Diasporic communities present challenges for establishing individual identities. Although we all wear many hats, existing in one culture while having ties to another brings its own burden, a burden that relates to being distinctive at the same time one blends in. The tension created when choosing between distinctiveness and adaptation is further complicated by choices between participating in dances of a heritage of former times or those of more recent times.
These conflicts, as well as the potency of dance for resolving them, are described by a mature Korean-American reflecting on her experiences in Hawai'i at the Halla Huhm Korean Dance Studio, experiences insisted on by her mother:
Saturday afternoons at Mrs. Huhm's studio were the only window through which I could view and actively participate in the traditions of my ancestors.
As a child, I was embarrassed to have my American friends know that I did Korean folk dancing. I chose to enjoy it privately and keep the world of Mrs. Huhm's studio and its close-knit community of dancers distinct from my life as a regular kid growing up in America...
I had been afraid that I would be teased if anyone found out I didn't do the "normal" kind of dancing. But to my surprise and delight, I awed my high school classmates and teachers with a Korean Drum Dance. Contrary to the sneers I expected, other students complimented me and asked, when did I start, how did I get so good and where could they learn Korean folk dancing. In addition to my personal satisfaction, I felt I was doing right in sharing my culture.
...I sometimes wonder if [I would have come] to terms with my heritage ... if I did not have the opportunity to experience and share part of it with other people...
...unknowingly Mrs. Huhm has helped me conquer my childhood feelings of inferiority as a[n] Asian-American... (6)
In the spring of 2003 students at the University of Hawai'i performed together with students from Korea in a modern dance piece created by a choreographer from Korea. One of the Hawai'i students, a Korean-American born and raised in Chicago, commented on the significance of participating in contemporary forms when saying how proud she was to know that experimentation and contemporary work were valued in Korea. She had always avoided participation in older forms of Korean dance, believing they were irrelevant to modern life. When she discovered the existence of modern works that emanated from Korea, she found something to which she could relate and realized that being of Korean heritage did not just mean connecting to things from the past.
These Hawai'i/Korea-related examples are eloquent testimony to the power of dance for reconciling a personal contemporary identity with a sometimes private heritage.
There are, of course, many more issues involved in meaningfully interweaving the dances of diasporic communities with life in new places. (8) I will conclude, however, with the implications of the kinds of issues I have raised here. First, and foremost, I believe, is the necessity for maintaining open dialogue between the purveyors and consumers of dance in diasporic settings. Second is the importance of involving knowledgable individuals, regardless of their heritages, in policy-determining and decision-making processes. Third is the importance of involving heritage individuals in these processes, regardless of their knowledge of the individual forms being considered, since they likely have a vested interest in outcomes. Fourth is the need to be mindful of the nature of what is done and how it is presented, and to consider dances of the past as well as those of the present. And fifth is acknowledging that each situation is different, and that resolutions may take quite different forms.
The physical and psychological benefits of dance widely assumed with regard to creative dance, ballet, and modern dance are equally valid for dance forms originating in countries throughout the globe. Likewise, the role dance can play in developing and presenting self image extends far beyond creative movement taught to elementary level children. In diasporic settings dance can contribute to sorting out the many identities we each possess, and to presenting these identities to others in a way that educates, informs, and contributes to appreciation, understanding, and acceptance. But care must be taken to assure the appropriateness of how we unpack dance from our heritage suitcases and display our wares.
A long-time resident of Hawai'i, Judy Van Zile is professor of dance at the University of Hawai'i at Manoa. Her publications include a book on Japanese bon dancing in Hawai'i and numerous journal articles and book chapters. Her most recent publication, Perspectives on Korean Dance, received a 2003 Outstanding Publication Award from the Congress on Research in Dance.
This essay was originally presented at the international conference Pulses and Impulses for Dance in the Community, Almada, Portugal, 23-26 October, 2003.
1. Article IX, Section 9 of the Hawai'i Revised Statutes of the State's Constitution.
2. For a discussion of Japanese bon odori in Hawai'i see Judy Van Zile. The Japanese Bon Dance in Hawai'i. Hawai'i: Press Pacifica, 1982.
3. For a discussion of Korean dance in Hawai'i, including detailed examination of some of the issues presented here, see chapter 9 of Judy Van Zile. Perspectives on Korean Dance. Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 2001.
4. For an oft-quoted and duplicated essay on ballet's ties to a particular time and place see Joann Kealiinohomoku, "An Anthropologist Looks at Ballet as a Form of Ethnic Dance," Impulse (1969-70), pp. 24-33.
5. For a detailed discussion see Judy Van Zile, "Non-Polynesian Dance in Hawai'i: Issues of Identity in a Multicultural Community," Dance Research Journal, Vol. 28, No. 1 (Spring 1996), pp. 28-50.
6. Connie Chang, letter written in 1991, published in Funeral of the Late Halla Pai Huhm. Hawai'i: Hosoi Garden Mortuary, 1994, p. 16.
7. For discussions of related issues specifically focusing on England see, for example, Andree Grau, "Dance and Cultural Identity," Animated (Autumn, 2001), pp. 23-26;
8. South Asian Dance. The British Experience, special issue of Choreography and Dance, Vol. 4, No. 2 (1997); and the 2002 report for the Leverhulme Trust, South Asian Dance in Britain.
© Judy Van Zile