WEAVING AN INHERITANCE: KANANI CASEY'S LIFE OF CULTURE, FAMILY AND RESILIENCE

When Kanani Casey first stepped onto the grounds of the Polynesian Cultural Center (PCC) in the early 1970s, she didn’t yet realize she was returning to a part of herself. A young student at the Church College of Hawaiʻi, she was drawn to the rhythms of the hula, the sound of the pahu drum, and the scent of fresh ti leaves being woven into skirts. What began as a college job would become a lifelong calling—one that would shape her family and echo into future generations.

Roots in Hawaiʻi and Japan

Kanani Casey was born in Honolulu, a child of mixed heritage—her mother, a first-generation Japanese woman born on Kauaʻi, and her father, Hawaiian. Though Hawaiian by birth, her upbringing leaned more toward Japanese traditions. Her father’s generation had been discouraged from speaking Hawaiian, a legacy of oppressive laws from the early 1900s that sought to erase native identity through assimilation.

Hawaiian culture – its language, dance and stories – was fading, quietly slipping away.

“Hula was kapu in those days, and also the language. You take away the language, you take away the culture, because the people can’t communicate with each other. It takes away the soul of the culture,” she said.

Later in life, however, Kanani would help carry the torch—igniting a love for Polynesian culture within her family, her community, and visitors from around the world.

A New Chapter at Church College of Hawaiʻi

She first came to Lāʻie in 1970 to attend the Church College of Hawaiʻi, graduating in 1974—the last class before the school was renamed Brigham Young University–Hawaiʻi. That same year, President Spencer W. Kimball attended the graduation to commemorate the transition.

While studying education, exercise, sports science, and Japanese, Kanani worked at the Polynesian Cultural Center (PCC)—a place that from its opening in 1963 offered employment steeped in culture and a sense of ‘ohana for college students far from their homes.

The Polynesian Cultural Center: A Family and a Mission

Kanani began working in the Hawaiian Village at the PCC shortly after arriving on campus, where she taught and danced hula. 

“Working at PCC wasn’t just a job—it was joy. It was family. Many of the student workers were drawn from New Zealand and other Polynesian islands to preserve and share our cultures,” she said.

“I danced on the canoes, my skirts made from freshly picked ti leaves, which we hand-tied each week with care,” she remembers

Every week, she and her peers would search for and gather ti leaves in the surrounding areas. They pooled their harvests, tying the leaves to cords fastened to a chair or tree, overlapping and weaving layers until the custom-designed skirts reached the right length.

The canoe show floated through the lagoon to each island village. The dancers were dropped off at the Hawaiian island village at the end of the show and there students pounded poi, wove lauhala mats, and taught guests from around the world how to hula and play games.

Life as a Student Performer

Her days were full—classes in the morning, work at PCC in the afternoon, and volleyball practice in the evenings. As a physical education major, she trained in various sports and competed on weekends. After also working four to five hours a day at PCC, she shared:

“I didn’t have much of a social life outside of it, but I didn’t need one. The PCC was fun, vibrant, and grounding. We ran to work! It was fun… It wasn’t hard. It was something we enjoyed doing.”

Late-night studying was fueled by chips, juice, and snacks.

“But we managed. We always did.”

Culturally, PCC was an awakening. Though Kanani was of Hawaiian ancestry, she hadn’t been immersed in the traditions. Through her work at the Center, she learned the meanings of chants, the process of weaving, and the spiritual stories behind each dance.

“I began to truly appreciate my roots and understand my identity. The lessons stuck with me and shaped how I raised my family,” she said.

One of her fondest memories is the food they shared. Everyone brought something special—chocolate cakes with fudge frosting, corn cakes made with Bisquick, and Hawaiian main dishes lovingly prepared by their supervisors.

“We liked sharing and we liked eating and doing it together. And there was always enough for everybody,” she remembers. “We shared recipes, laughter, and a sense of community that made everything feel like home. I still make that corn cake when I serve chili. It always brings me back to those happy days at the PCC.”

Family Footprint

The Casey family includes eight children—seven sons and one daughter—all of whom grew up grounded in culture and faith. 

Six sons served missions in Japan, as did their mother—the homeland of their great-grandparents.

“It got to where when my sons got their mission calls, people would ask ‘where in Japan is he going?’” 

Ira, the sixth son, prayed earnestly not to go to Japan. His mother humorously recounted that in an act of divine intervention he was called elsewhere and was sent to serve in Korea.

Many of Kanani’s posterity worked at PCC. The eldest son, Seth Casey, began working there right out of college and is now Senior Director of Marketing. Kawehi, the only daughter, served a mission in Washington and was a dancer at the PCC. . A granddaughter, Kiarra, a senior in high school, currently performs in the Huki show. Another granddaughter, Hereiti, also worked and danced in the Hawaiian island village before attending BYU–Provo.

Lessons Through Weaving

Even mistakes become lessons in life. While weaving lauhala mats, a group of student weavers worked individually, ignoring the intended pattern. A fellow student who was an expert in weaving gently corrected them as she took out the irregular rows and quickly corrected the weaving, explaining her vision for a finished masterpiece of uniformity.

Weaving was more than tradition—it became a metaphor:

“That lesson stayed with me,” Kanani confided,
“Not just about weaving, but about life. See the whole picture. Consider the past, stay present, and plan for the future. That mindset guided how I raised my children and how I live now.”

Rising from the Ashes

Tragedy struck in 2011 when the Casey home burned to the ground. They lost everything—pictures, heirlooms, and all the material connections to their memories. Kanani spent hours in the garage of their rented home, trying to salvage photos from scorched albums.

Healing came from an unexpected place—hula. A friend invited her to dance as a way to bring joy back into her life.   

 ” The grief was heavy, but I found my way back to hula. A friend pulled me from the sorrow and invited me to dance again. I hadn’t danced in decades, but the rhythm came back. Hula became my healing. We danced at funerals, community events, and even at PCC again. It saved me.”