Issue — February 2026
The Words You're Using Wrong
Aloha is not a vibe you can license.
The Bumper Sticker And The Word
There is a difference between a word and the sticker of a word. The sticker has been through a lot. The sticker has been on a surfboard, a tote bag, a Honda Civic in Reno, a cease-and-desist from a wellness brand in Ojai. The sticker is tired. The word — the actual word — is still here, doing its job, unbothered.
Aloha is a word. You have been sold the sticker.
What Aloha Is Not
Aloha is not ‘hi.’ It is not ‘bye.’ It is not a phone greeting, a sign-off on your email, or the theme of your company retreat. Or rather — it is all of those, technically, used that way all day long, and that is fine. Language does what language does. Words adapt; speakers adapt. The problem is not the casual use. The problem is the casual use combined with the belief that you have, by saying aloha at a Starbucks, fully understood the thing.
You have not.
Aloha, in its fuller sense, is a relational orientation. A way of being with other people. The word contains ‘alo,’ which relates to face or presence, and ‘ha,’ which is breath. To aloha someone is, at minimum, to be present with them and share breath with them. It is physical. It is specific. It is not transactional.
The bumper-sticker version says: be chill, be nice, wear linen. The actual version says: show up, pay attention, do not treat this person as a means to an end, remember you are a small thing in a big web of people and land and time. These are different instructions.
Mahalo, Not A Receptacle
Mahalo means thank you. Genuinely, deeply, thank you — gratitude as an acknowledgment of what you have received from others. It is also printed on trash cans, because the trash cans say thank you for using them. This is cute. This is also how we ended up with tourists throwing Cinnabons into the gratitude bin, confused.
You will use mahalo constantly. Try to mean it constantly. When the person at the checkout says mahalo, say mahalo back. Do not say ‘no problem’ — that is an American tic, and it implies the interaction was a problem. The interaction was not a problem. The interaction was, in its small way, an exchange of presence.
ʻOhana, Heavier Than You Think
Lilo & Stitch did a lot of good and a little harm. The good: a whole generation of kids learned the word ʻohana. The harm: a whole generation of adults thinks ʻohana means ‘the gang’ or ‘the squad’ or ‘my timeshare buddies.’ It does not.
ʻOhana is family. Extended, chosen, layered, felt. It includes people you did not pick, responsibilities you did not ask for, and obligations that do not expire. It is closer to the word ‘kin’ than to the word ‘friends.’ When a local introduces someone as ʻohana, that is a statement of serious connection. When you call the Airbnb owner your ʻohana in a five-star review, that is something else.
Pono, Mana, Kupuna — The Heavy Words
There are words here that carry weight. Pono — rightness, balance. Mana — spiritual power. Kupuna — elders. Kahuna — master, priest, expert. These are not words to sprinkle on an Instagram caption for texture. They are load-bearing. They describe real things that real people take seriously.
If you would not print ‘grace’ across your yoga pants, do not print ‘pono’ across your yoga pants. If you would not call the guy at the hardware store ‘reverend,’ do not call him ‘kahuna.’ The rule is simple: match weight to weight. Do not lift what you cannot hold.
The Small Words Are Still Words
Kokua. Keiki. Hale. Lanai. Wahine. Kāne. Malihini. These are the daily-use words — they show up on signs, menus, school forms. Learn them. Say them. Pronounce them as best you can. Nobody will fault you for trying; everybody will notice if you don’t. ‘The keiki menu is for keiki’ is not an insult; it is a clarification, and you should accept it cheerfully and order the full entrée like a grown-up.
Haole, With Care
You will hear the word haole. It historically means foreigner; today it’s most commonly used to mean white people. It can be neutral. It can be affectionate. It can be pointed. Tone does almost all the work, and tone takes years to read. If a local calls you haole warmly, smile. If they call you haole coldly, think about what you just did. Do not, under any circumstance, start calling yourself ‘a haole’ as a bit. That is a bit that has never landed.
What To Do Instead
Use the words you know. Use them correctly. Ask when you don’t know. Accept correction without explaining. Leave the heavy words on the shelf until you have the arms for them. Tip in cash. Listen more than you talk.
The sticker is tired. The word is not. Treat the word like a word, and it will treat you like a person. Aloha.
The 18 tips in this issue
- 20 Aloha Is Not A Greeting Feb 1
- 21 Mahalo Is Not A Trash Can Feb 2
- 22 Pau Hana Is A Time, Not A Brand Feb 3
- 23 The Shaka, Held Correctly Feb 4
- 24 Keiki Means Child Feb 5
- 25 ʻĀina Is The Land Feb 6
- 26 Malihini Means You Feb 7
- 27 Haole, Handle With Care Feb 8
- 28 Kahuna Is Not Your Nickname Feb 9
- 29 Mana Is Not A Vibe Feb 10
- 30 ʻAuwē, The All-Purpose Sigh Feb 11
- 31 Not Everything Is A Luau Feb 12
- 32 Talk Story Is The Whole Economy Feb 13
- 33 Mele Is Song, Hula Is Dance Feb 14
- 34 When In Doubt, Fewer Words Feb 15
- 358 Shi-Shi Feb 16
- 359 Chee Hoo! Feb 17
- 360 They Are Slippers Feb 18