Barricades not the Answer
A lesson learned
by Tiffany Edwards

There I was at the Leleiwi Community Association in Hilo, voicing my objection to the newly installed yellow deflector poles and gate at the nearby James Kealoha Beach Park, commonly known as Four Mile.
This was my first time at a community association meeting, and the first time I've opted to publicly weigh in my position on the goings-on of this community. The thing is, I don't live in Keaukaha, I just got to the beaches there, like Four Mile.
To me, those yellow deflector poles and the newly implemented one-way street (that drivers blatantly disregard) is a classic representation of how this island is morphing into the mainland everyday.
Name a community - Keaukaha, Pepe'ekeo, Pahoa or Kona - and chances are likely it is grappling with public access issues. As the subdivisions are going up, so too are the gates blocking people from hunting, fishing, or recreating.
So, all riled up, I accompanied my friend to her community association meeting. For as long as I could, I sat quietly,
listening to the community association members discuss coqui frog control; the need to control fishing and coral degradation along the Keaukaha coastline; and the need for improved public access to Lalakea Ponds.
My friend has lived next to those ponds for 12 years, and her husband, for 17. She expressed concern that the group was advocating improved public access to the locals' hideaway, concerned that it might become yet another Roberts Hawaii tour bus stop, and a parking lot which would require a gate.
As my friend was speaking, I reflected on those poles and the gate at Four Mile, which I consider to be a blight on an otherwise breathtaking view. I couldn't keep quiet any longer.
"I'm here tonight, because I'm concerned about our island's future," I began. As soon as I mentioned the deflector poles and gate, the tenor in the room changed. I quickly realized how unwelcome I was in this tightly knit group of primarily condo residents who thought they knew what was best for everyone. These people were the very ones who had pressured the county to install the deflector poles and gate.
I didn't have the floor long enough to point out how hypocritical it was for this group to be advocates of limiting access at Four Mile (the gate at now closes at 11 p.m.), yet improving public access to Lalakea at Akepa Street.
But tailgating and public intoxication, which the Leleiwi group was attempting to suppress, has moved from Four Mile to even more public places, like the Wal-Mart parking lot.
"Good," responded Bea Larson, the head of this group.
She was the one who urged me to stop talking earlier. "I wish I would have brought my gavel tonight," she'd said.
People moving pau hana parties from the beach to a mega-store parking lot shows a blatant lack of enforcement of public intoxication. Chairman Larson's reaction indicated that her group was more interested in transferring the problems-public intoxication and lack of enforcement-out of the neighborhood. Never mind a solution.
One woman contemptuously asked me, in her thick European accent, "Do you live here?"
"No, but I go to the beaches here," I replied, as if that would suffice. The sneers and stares from some members of the group made it very uncomfortable to stay.
The group raced through its agenda' at the end, Chairman Larson asked for comments. I raised my hand.
"We've heard enough from you tonight," Larson told me, before stating the group's rule: You must attend three meetings before your concerns are placed on the agenda.
I left, vowing never to go back. In the parking lot, Sasa Anthony, a local girl wise enough to remain quiet, shouted playfully: "Come to the next meeting! I'm running for president!"
I've replayed that meeting in my head many times. I regret lashing out with harsh words when they wouldn't hear me out. I haven't been able to shrug the incident off.
I went down to the entrance of Lalakea Ponds to see if the homeowners knew the Leleiwi Community Association's plan for the land adjoining theirs. They weren't home.
A few days later, I interviewed the county park caretaker for Carlsmith/Four Mile. He pointed out that deflector poles are deliberately situated to prevent reckless drivers from racing and burning rubber on the road there.
But he also noted that the barriers are just like others that prevent him and his friends from accessing longtime fishing spots and hunting grounds. He, too, sees that the true problem is a lack of police enforcement of public intoxication and recklessness.
Down the road at Four Mile, I approached several beer-toting fellows and a woman, all leaning against a car hood mid-day.
They see the barriers as yet another example of their ever-eroding freedom to do exactly what they were doing at that moment.
They noted the irony of the "condo people" trying to quell the very lifestyle that attracted them to settle here to begin with. While they all spoke very strongly against the suppression of their lifestyle, they expressed no desire to make their position known at any community association meetings.
As we spoke, one of the men swallowed the last of his beer and nonchalantly pitched it into the bushes. I was almost stupid enough to say something. Then, I flashed on the faces of the Leleiwi Community Association.
As I went to retrieve the bottle, I saw at least a half-dozen more in the bushes. I
picked up as many as I could in one handful. "Leave 'um for the scavengers," the men protested.
"No, this is my coffee money, guys," I responded.
Driving away from Four Mile, I thought of the Leleiwi Community Association and all their organized beach cleanups over the years. My resentment subsided, and I felt worse than ever for going to their meeting to criticize them.
They, and all the other groups like them, really do mean well. It really is a complex, island-wide issue that needs to be approached with care and compassion.
The Leleiwi experience has got me curious about my own community association. I'm just not so sure I'm ready to open any more Pandora's boxes by seeking to satisfy that curiosity.
Leleiwi Community Association meetings are held the second Monday of every month at Richardson's Beach Park, 7 to 8 p.m. (next meeting: April 9). I strongly suggest you be there on time and bring your own chair, because there may not be enough to go around.
Tiffany Edwards worked for five-and-a-half years as Hilo Bureau Chief for West Hawaii Today. Since abandoning the daily grind of corporate journalism in December, she swims, surfs, paddles, publicizes, transcribes and frequently writes for HIJ.

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