School of Language, Culture and Society

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Luhui Whitebear

By Colin Bowyer, Communications Manager - September 5, 2025

In two new articles, Luhui Whitebear, ‘03, ‘13, M.A. ‘16, Ph.D. ‘20, draws from her lived experiences as an Indigenous scholar and activist to illustrate how institutional spaces, oftentimes colonial structures, marginalize Indigenous ways of knowing and being. 

In “A Story of Parallel Worlds: Decolonial Possibilities Navigating Institutional Spaces,” written in 2022, but published in July 2025’s issue of Decolonial Possibilities: Indigenously Rooted Practices in Rhetoric and Writing, Whitebear describes these institutions as “parallel worlds” — places where Indigenous people must constantly navigate between their cultural identities and the dominant norms of academia.

“As I think of decolonial possibilities while navigating institutional spaces,” Whitebear writes, “I think of the ways in which they are created: who creates them, the parameters around them, and the institutional limitations. However, I also think of the ways in which institutional practices are connected to land—whose land we are on and the larger implications this has in working from a decolonial lens.”

Through her experience at Oregon State, Whitebear outlines how working at the kaku-ixt mana ina haws cultural center, as well as helping craft the university’s land acknowledgment, has centered the impact of settler colonialism, alongside the necessity of protecting and honoring Tribal sovereignty. 

In Whitebear’s chapter in The Routledge Handbook of Contemporary Feminist Rhetoric, titled “As Long As the River Runs: Rhetorics of Indigenous Feminist Activism,” they center on the enduring resistance of Indigenous women against settler colonialism, particularly through feminist activism rooted in Indigenous knowledge systems.

“I wanted to write about treaties and how Indigenous women have always been political through their experiences navigating with settlers,” explained Whitebear.

Women in Indigenous communities have continuously resisted settler colonial efforts aimed at genocide, natural resource extraction, and assimilation. This community-centered resistance is framed not only as survival but as a form of rhetorical and activist power. Whitebear also introduces the importance of rhetorical sovereignty, whereby Indigenous peoples reclaim their narratives and rhetorical spaces by challenging dominant discourses in academia, media, and policy. 

The title metaphor, “as long as the river runs,” reflects how Indigenous feminist activism is embodied, ongoing, and tied to land, water, and cultural survival.

“Ultimately,” explained Whitebear, “the chapter is a call to action for institutions to recognize and support Indigenous epistemologies, and for Indigenous scholars to continue carving out spaces of possibility and resistance within academia.”

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Katie Livermore

By Taylor Pedersen, CLA Student Writer - September 9, 2025

Katie Livermore has worn many hats during her time at Oregon State University—student, reporter, editor, intern, international studies scholar, and soon, a researcher and student abroad. But at the heart of it all is one guiding force: her desire to tell human stories that might otherwise go unheard.

Livermore, a senior double majoring in international studies and creative writing with a minor in applied journalism, is spending her final term this fall in Spain, where she’ll complete her international studies degree. She’ll graduate in December, but her impact is already resonating beyond campus borders, especially through her ambitious thesis project on the human toll of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.

“When the war started," Livermore said, "I was in a Shakespeare class. I remember seeing the news and just being overwhelmed. I started watching and reading the news every day. I felt a connection to the Ukrainians I saw on the screen. That’s when I knew I wanted to report on it.”

"I'm a fifth generation Ukrainian," continued Livermore. "My mom, aunt, and uncle have kept Ukrainian culture alive and in my family over the years, through decorations, food, and love. I am grateful for their work in keeping tradition alive and hopes to do the same."

Her reporting journey began earlier, when she joined The Daily Barometer in her sophomore year. She quickly became the campus editor and later editor in chief, diving into a wide array of stories from protest coverage to deep-dive features. “I took on anything I could,” she said. “I wanted to explore every kind of story, every voice. That curiosity never left me.”

But her reporting turned more personal after she came across a postcard left on her newsroom desk. One from Corvallis’s Sister City Association, which partners with the Ukrainian town of Uzhhorod. The sender’s name? Alice. The same as Livermore’s grandmother, who was born into a Canadian-Ukrainian community in Lamont, Alberta. She took it as a sign.

“I called the number on the card and ended up at the home of Alice and Mark Rampton, who introduced me to an entire network of Ukrainian community members, activists, and refugees,” Livermore recalled. “From there, there was a network of people, each inspiring story leading to another.”

Those early conversations became the foundation of her thesis, a long-form journalistic work guided by none other than Chris Johns, ‘74, former editor in chief of National Geographic and renowned photographer. Their partnership began with a spontaneous email from Livermore. 

“I told him I admired his work and wanted to document Ukrainian voices. He replied within an hour,” she said, still amazed. “Since then, we’ve met weekly on Zoom. He’s been an incredible mentor.”

For nearly two years, Livermore has been interviewing dozens of people impacted by the war: Ukrainians, Russians, internally displaced persons, immigrants, and aid workers. Some through translated Facebook calls and messages, others via community connections in Corvallis and Portland. One woman’s story became the centerpiece of her thesis, the kind of narrative she believes can bring distant suffering closer to home.

“I try to ask questions that really put readers in the moment,” Livermore said. “What were you wearing that day? What did the dinner you were making smell like? How many people were there? That kind of sensory detail helps people empathize–even if they’ve never experienced war.”

That empathy-driven approach defines all her reporting, from her internship at The Bulletin in Bend to her work with The Immigrant Story, a Portland-based nonprofit where she profiles displaced individuals from around the world. It also shapes how she engages with sources; carefully building trust, checking in long after interviews end, and being vulnerable herself.

“There have been times when I’ve cried with someone during an interview,” she said. “It’s just what happens when you create a space where people feel safe to share what’s often the most painful part of their lives.”

This past summer, Livermore traveled to Lamont to document her grandmother’s past life, tracing back to her Ukrainian roots. She visited the farm her great-grandparents first moved into when they arrived in Ukraine and photograph locations her grandmother wrote about in her diary entries. 

"I had the opportunity to walk in the same places my grandma once did in her Ukrainian community. It was the most incredible trip, and I feel more connected to her and my culture."

Studying abroad in Spain this fall will be more than a capstone to her degree; it’s a continuation of her commitment to cross-cultural storytelling. After reporting in Spanish last summer on a GED program for migrant farmworkers in Madras, Oregon, she’s excited to deepen her language skills and explore immigration law and policy from an alternate perspective.

“I’ve studied Spanish since middle school, and I’d love to be able to report in Spanish more fluently,” she said. “Especially in Oregon, Spanish-speaking communities are often underrepresented in journalism.”

Livermore’s academic path, an unusual mix of initially zoology, then creative writing, and international studies, has finally found its focus. “I originally wanted to be a science writer,” she said with a laugh. “But I kept being drawn back to human stories, especially global ones. Now I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

Looking ahead, she envisions a future in both local and international journalism, maybe starting with a community paper, or maybe law school down the road. New York is calling. So is Ukraine. She’s currently volunteering for a Ukrainian organization in Portland and hopes to one day publish her thesis project as a book. 

“I want people to feel something when they read these stories,” she said. “Maybe they’ll donate. Maybe they’ll volunteer. Or maybe they’ll just better understand what it means to lose your home, your country, and still fight for hope.”

Even if the world sometimes feels too big to change, Livermore remains undeterred.

“Even if it’s just one piece of journalism,” she said. “But if enough of us keep telling these stories—truthfully, empathetically, it can get pretty loud.” And Livermore has never been afraid to raise her voice.

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From left to right: Kelsey Emard, Lorena Cardenas, Kenna Bernardin, Cramer, and Carlos Rodarte

By Colin Bowyer, Communications Manager - August 13, 2025

In order to complete his Spanish degree, Nicholas Cramer, ‘25, needed one more credit during spring term 2025. Already succeeding in taking every Spanish offering that fit his packed geospatial science class schedule, Cramer considered an independent study project that would combine his interests in geography, Spanish, and linguistics. 

Coincidentally, Cramer’s long-standing mentor Kelsey Emard, assistant professor of geography, was leading a group of students from the College of Earth, Ocean, and Atmospheric Sciences to Lima, Peru, for a student-organized international geography colloquium at Pontificia Universidad Católica del Perú. Cramer seized the opportunity and worked with Associate Professor Adam Schwartz in the School of Language, Culture, and Society, to find a way to develop an independent study project.

“In my pitch to Adam, I wanted to look at how culture and language interacts with geography in Lima,” explained Cramer. “I came to the conclusion that creating a story map was the best way to convey a linguistic, geographic, and socio-political narrative.”

“In my experience, it’s rare that students seek the opportunity to bridge two fields of study in an independent project,” said Schwartz. “Nick didn’t want to silo his academic pursuits and what he created was an accessible, highly original inquiry into linguistic landscape.” 

While the focus was attending the colloquium, in which Cramer presented his own research entirely in Spanish, the trip quickly expanded into something much deeper: an immersive crash course in culture, language, infrastructure, history, food, and environmental justice. The result of Cramer’s independent study: an interactive map hosted by ArcsGIS software that detailed the week-long journey in Lima, where Cramer chronologically shares how and where geography, gastronomy, language, socioeconomics, and infrastructure collide. 

“As a geographer,” Cramer said, “I learned to see Lima as a layered, complex landscape, and witness firsthand how urban infrastructure, environmental risk, and food systems reflect broader questions about equity, planning, and resilience. As a Spanish student, I was able to engage with people as collaborators, friends, and fellow learners. Together, through these two lenses, it helped me understand Lima as a living, breathing place full of contradictions, history, and potential.”

At the Coloquio Internacional de Estudiantes de Geografía y Medio Ambiente (International Colloquium of Students of Geography and Environment), research was presented on everything from Indigenous land rights to AI and satellite remote sensing. Cramer gave his own presentation, entirely in Spanish, summarizing his Honors College thesis published this spring term. Using Oregon state highway maps, Cramer created a storyboard analysis of how cartography has changed over time and how artificial intelligence will impact future mapmaking.

“AI is transforming the way we do almost everything, including cartography,” said Emard. “What was most valuable about Nick's thesis was how he contextualized historical shifts in mapmaking, and the technical and ethical questions mapmakers have faced during each historical moment, placing this historical perspective into conversation with questions of accountability and ethics that are emerging as we use AI in mapmaking.”

Cramer said he felt prepared and confident for his Spanish-only presentation and Q&A session at the conference. Having taken four years of continuous Spanish classes, as well as studying abroad in Spain during his junior year, the biggest challenge was learning and incorporating the niche vocabulary of cartography and geography into his presentation. 

“Ultimately, throughout my years at OSU majoring in both fields, I found more and more ways where both Spanish and geography connected with each other,” Cramer explained. “Traveling to Lima and documenting my interdisciplinary trip was a great conclusion to my time at OSU.”

As for his final project, Schwartz and Cramer hope that it inspires more students to look closer at the relationship between geography and language and that idea that our lived worlds are means by which we live language.

“This Story Map,” Cramer writes on his webpage, “is more than a travelogue. It’s an invitation: to study abroad, to take intellectual risks, and to embrace an education that crosses borders. For me, that meant stepping into a Peruvian university auditorium to present in Spanish about GIS ethics. For someone else, it might mean following a curiosity in environmental science, policy, art, or history. The key is to let your disciplines speak to each other, and to let yourself grow in the space between them.”

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Anitra Higgins

By Jessica Krueger, CLA Student Writer - August 4, 2025

During her undergraduate years at Purdue University, Anitra Higgins was not always sure of what she wanted to do. It became clear to Higgins early on that a degree in biochemistry, the major she had first declared, would not satisfy her long standing fascination with history and culture. To better suit her interests, she swapped biochemistry with health and disease, and added an additional major in anthropology. Energized by her new course of study, Higgins completed an undergraduate research project centered on black soul food and the relationship between health and culture in black communities. That’s where, she said, her passion for medical anthropology and food studies began. 

Now a Ph.D. student of applied anthropology at the School of Language, Culture, and Society, Higgins is continuing her research at the intersections of food, health, and community. Working under Dr. Melissa Cheyney and Dr. Lisa Price, she is developing a project that will examine how health policy impacts people with chronic illness and autoimmunity in majority black communities. How, Higgins asks in her research, do people—especially those with lasting health conditions—use community and food to cope under the socioeconomic pressures and barriers to health which exist in our society today?

Higgins chose to attend Oregon State (from which she received the university’s Prestigious Diversity Fellowship) because, as she said in her own words, “I really wanted to learn how to do work within the community and not just do research for research’s sake. I could learn about things all day long, but I felt like I needed to contribute to the communities that I’m a part of and that I want to serve.”

Though still early in her Ph.D. career, for her dissertation Higgins is interested in community care networks (CCCs) and their relation to autoimmunity in black communities. “Though some versions of healthcare exist in Black and Indigenous communities, community care networks may fill in the gaps and provide culturally specific healthcare support. I wanted to look at how CCCs affect the prevalence in autoimmune diseases, like multiple sclerosis and lupus.”

Outside of class, Higgins is working with Black Futures Farm to develop a toolkit for black farmers in Oregon. Located on 1.15 acres in Portland, Black Futures Farm grows fresh produce for local communities and offers a space for black-identified people to gather and reconnect with the land. Higgins will be developing surveys, analyzing data, and visiting other local black-owned farms to identify what resources would be most helpful in aiding black farmers’ success. Once this information is gathered, she will design a digital platform, organize a series of workshops, or plan regular community gatherings to support black farmers as they grow produce, tend land, and confront systemic barriers to food-security and property-ownership.

This is not the first time that Higgins has served her local community—nor will it be the last. After graduating from Purdue, she volunteered with AmeriCorps in her hometown of Memphis, Tennessee, to teach school-age children how to advocate for themselves, build team-based networks, and develop healthy leadership skills. The following year, Higgins managed a local co-op’s SNAP program while pursuing a master’s degree in food studies at Indiana University in Bloomington.

Under the mentorship of Dr. Andrea Wiley and Dr. Frederika Kaestle, Higgins wrote a master’s thesis which examines how socioeconomic factors impact the consumption of ultra-processed foods by minority populations.

Given Higgins’s long resumé of anthropological research and community outreach, no one would know that she had once considered a career in archaeology. While at Purdue, Higgins attended a six week-long archaeology field school but quickly realized that it was not for her. “It was a great experience, I met some cool people, and I would do it again,” she said. “But I was also very certain that archaeology was not what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. And I was okay with that.”

Asked what advice she would give to others trying to find their niche, Higgins replied: “Try anything and everything that you’re interested in as the opportunity allows. Even if you think you might not like it, now you know. It’s not going to be a question mark later on. Even if you don’t think you have the skills or qualifications for it, apply anyway. Because you probably do, or you’ll learn them on the job. Try it, be curious. You’ll never know what will happen.”

“I try to be okay with the uncertainty,” she added, “because I know at some point I’ll figure out where I’m going, and sometimes I don't know where I’m going until I’m there. And that’s okay.” 

Once she completes her Ph.D., Higgins hopes to work as an advocate for her community in some way, whether as a policy analyst or through non-profit work. “I just want to help those around me. I would love for something I did to be towards change at the very least.”

By the time she retires, Higgins said, “I just want to be satisfied with whatever I’ve done with my life and to not have any regrets. So, whatever that looks like, however I get there, I just want to be like ‘I did what I needed and I did what I wanted to do,’ and that’s good enough.”

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Ana Carolina de Assis Nunes

By Halle Sheppard, CLA Student Writer - July 24, 2025

Ana Carolina de Assis Nunes is at the cutting edge of the ever-changing world of artificial intelligence (AI), and her anthropological research is helping to uncover the reality behind this new technology. It wasn’t always this way though.

Hailing from the rural state of Goiás, Brazil, Assis Nunes is a classically trained bassist, and even attended a music conservatory while a young adult. After she finished music school, she sought a career that was more than performance and decided to attend the University of Goiás to study social sciences. She became even more interested in anthropology, and decided to pursue a master’s degree focusing on artificial intelligence.

Her start to AI was actually rooted in curiosity and fear. “In 2016, I just started seeing all these reports in Brazilian media about how AI was going to take all the jobs in the future and how humanity was doomed.” Assis Nunes explained how as a first-generation college student, she felt it was “very unfair” that when she finally had the opportunity to go to college and have a profession, AI would just take her job. This fear of AI destroying her prospects and heralding the end of the world as the media presented switched her focus to a desire to understand what exactly is AI and what was really going on behind the scenes.

Her research led her to some important realizations about the nature of AI, and how there is no such thing as this dangerous entity we think of. She explains that AI instead is more statistical machine learning, and thinking about it as an entity or a non-human body/mind is a way to obscure powerful people making decisions behind harmful technologies. “It's easier to blame a machine than to acknowledge that AI, as a decision making device, is intentionally being used to cause harm to humans and nature,” she says. Her research, instead of blindly jumping on the bandwagon of fear, delves deeper and asks “who is the person, or what interests are there behind AI?”

Assis Nunes partnered with the computer science department at the University of Goiás to help develop her master’s thesis, where she conducted an analysis that compared and contrasted how AI was being portrayed in the Brazilian media versus what scientists were actually studying. 

“The Brazilian media’s expectations of AI were immense,” explained Assis Nunes. “There was talk of curing cancer. When in reality, Brazilian scholars weren’t even considering those far-reaching implications.” 

This research led her to the anthropology Ph.D. program at the College of Liberal Arts’ School of Language, Culture, and Society. While her Ph.D. work was advised by Dr. Emily Yates-Doerr, she was initially brought to OSU by Anthropology Associate Professor Shaozeng Zhang who was recruiting research assistants who spoke Portuguese for a project involving the development of a fair AI framework. After realizing that they were looking for someone with the qualifications that she had, Assis Nunes decided to move to Oregon. 

“I had visited other parts of the U.S. before and the Pacific Northwest of the U.S. was very interesting to me,” she explained, motivated also by a new unwelcome political shift in Brazil at the time. At first, she “felt a little out of place to be honest,” but later stated how she “got used to Corvallis and I actually like it here now.” With OSU’s heavy STEM focus, it’s been wonderful for her own anthropology research. More attention from the faculty and freedom to explore her research has been integral, and allowed her to achieve her anthropological goals.

Assis Nunes’ master’s research and time at OSU led her to explore the importance of the tangible aspects of the internet like the massive data centers located in Oregon for tech companies outside of the state. “I don’t think a lot of people understand how central Oregon is to the tech industry in the U.S.,” Assis Nunes explained. Due to the cheap electricity from the abundant hydropower dams, a friendly tax system, and pre-existing infrastructure, Oregon’s data centers did not necessarily start from scratch. The “Silicon Forest” of the Pacific Northwest “is the place where a big part of the infrastructure of the internet lives.”

The Dalles, Oregon, located on the idyllic Columbia River 80 miles west of Portland, has seen industry come and go. In the early 1800s, The Dalles was an active and important port for the North American fur, salmon, and timber trade. By the early 20th Century, the construction of multiple federal hydroelectric dams on the Columbia River produced cheap electricity, which in-turn attracted energy-intensive business to the area, including smelting and nuclear facilities. Today, the banks of the Columbia River are home to much technology infrastructure, but nothing compares to the size and scale of Google’s hyperscale data center in The Dalles.

Assis Nunes’ Ph.D. research looks specifically at how the industrialization of the Columbia River yielded the creation of Google's data center in The Dalles in 2006. Assis Nunes also explores the relationship between the technology and the surrounding environment, including how the data center has impacted not only the Columbia River, but also the surrounding town of 16,000 residents. 

“I’m hoping to show how tech is material; how the cloud is actually not a literal cloud in the air but physical infrastructure; and how the internet is actually cables under the sea.” 

It’s not just technology though, Assis Nunes’ anthropological research agenda looks at how the development of tech is tied to other systems of power like colonialism and why some regions are more developed than others. “Old telephone lines under the sea are even an expression of old systems of power, as it mainly leads to Europe, the center of colonialism,” Assis Nunes explained. “It is very interesting to think of the centralization of power and the decentralization of the internet.”

OSU has helped her to understand that “anthropologists have a place anywhere they want to be, not only in academia.” As for Assis Nunes’ plans after graduation, she will continue researching cloud infrastructures as a postdoctoral fellow with the Trustworthy Infrastructures team at the Data & Society Research Institute. 

“Anthropology is my thing. I love it; I can’t imagine myself doing anything else. I think it's so amazing too because anthropology is holistic in the sense that we are always connecting the dots. It's very hard for us to see one thing in isolation; everything is connected to something.”

“The goal for me is to always put humans first and the users of the technology first,” and her research outlined the importance of technology made for humans and what they want, and not only for corporate goals and profit. Assis Nunes hopes to influence policy around AI, and will continue to fight for humans to be put first when it comes to AI. 

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Jennifer Linares-Espinoza

By Ellie Webb-Bowen, CLA Student Writer - June 19, 2025

Emigrating from Mexico to Oregon, Jennnifer Linares-Espinoza’s parents always emphasized the importance of getting a quality education. Now a first-generation student at OSU’s College of Liberal Arts, Linares-Espinoza is earning a degree that will help her support college students during their own academic journeys. 

After Growing up in SE Portland, Linares-Espinoza enrolled in the University of Oregon (UO), but, like many first generation students, she struggled with the financial commitment of paying tuition, housing, books, etc. With scholarship support and a job as a residential advisor, Linares-Epinoza was able to completely cover her costs.

“My family never quite knew how they would pay for my education,” explained Linares-Espinoza. “But I was privileged enough to have their moral support and dedication to find the means to pay for my education.” 

Though, being a first generation student still came with culture shock. “Living and learning on a college campus was a completely new experience for not only me, but also for my family.” explained Linares-Espinoza. “This was a space that we all had no familiarity with, and as a child of immigrants who grew up in a strong Latin community, it was especially jarring.” 

Linares-Espinoza chose to double major in Spanish and political science, but also take on four minors, including topics that piqued her own interest: Latinx studies, legal studies, media studies, and nonprofit administration. “It was quite a bit to handle,” said Linares-Espinoza, but she attributed her success at UO to the support she received from student affairs professionals.

Linares-Espinoza found a commonality among student affairs professionals: many of whom were unaware of student services as a career path when they began their collegiate careers. Linares-Espinoza recognized the support she received from her advisors, mentors, and peers while at UO and decided she was interested in going down the same path.

 "When I worked as a resident advisor, peer mentor, peer advisor, and student orientation leader at UO, all of these experiences taught me to appreciate the different resources available at higher education institutions, as well as those who work tirelessly to serve students like me," said Linares-Espinoza. 

When looking at student affairs graduate school programs in Oregon, Linares-Espinoza found the School of Language, Culture, and Society’s College Student Services Administration (CSSA) program. What attracted her to the program was the course’s cohort-based model, where students build strong connections with a small group of peers throughout their studies. 

Also attracting Linares-Espinoza to the program was the curriculum centered around diversity, equity, and inclusion. CSSA supplies students with an intersectional, feminist, anti-racist educational foundation to help them better serve other college students in future higher-education administration capacities.

“This was exactly what I was looking for in a graduate program,” said Linares-Espinoza. “I wanted to learn more about how to support diverse students like the people who had supported me so well in undergrad.”

As an M.Ed. student, not only is Linares-Espinoza receiving her Graduate Certificate in College and University Teaching (GCCUT) and Leading and Creating Change graduate certificate, but she’s also applying what she’s learning in CSSA directly to students as a graduate teaching assistant for the University Exploratory Studies Program, an academic department for undeclared undergraduate students where she focuses on providing academic advising and teaching sections of Academic Learning Services (ALS 114/191)

Additionally, now in her second and final year, Linares-Espinoza is completing her M.Ed. final project, which is focused on threads of community and identity. After she graduates, Linares-Espinoza is looking to enter a student affairs role, applying directly what she learned in class and from her peers in the CSSA program.

“Something I really love about the cohort model is that I’ve grown close with peers and learned so much from them,” said Linares-Espinoza. “Being able to share experiences, build a learning environment, and co-create knowledge together has been an experience I won’t forget.” 

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Tihani Mitchell

By Katie Livermore, CLA Student Writer - May 28, 2025

Tihani Mitchell remembers sitting in her political science class her first year, analyzing countless statistics of different groups. None of them included Pacific Islander and Hawaiian demographics–instead, they were included in the “other” category. Even more so, she discovered many students and faculty at OSU were unfamiliar with Hawaiian history and culture.

She returned to her dorm that day in tears. Instead of giving up, Mitchell leaned into her deep connection to her Hawaiian homeland and decided to make her own change. 

That’s exactly what she did. 

Now, Mitchell is the founder of Ka ʻIkena Hawaiʻi, an Oregon State University club that focuses on preserving and practicing the Hawaiian language. She is a third-year, first-generation student double majoring in political science and ethnic studies with a minor in Indigenous studies. 

Mitchell is from Puʻuanahulu, Hawaiʻi, raised in a multigenerational household with six other siblings, her parents, her grandparents, and great grandmother. In addition to her family were her hānai siblings, a kind of adopted family she grew up with. 

“My parents raised all of me and my siblings up to be very outspoken individuals,” Mitchell said. “They always taught us to challenge authority.”

With her outspokenness, Mitchell was exposed to activism at an early age. Her uncle was dedicated to the Land Back Movement, which focuses on advocating for returning ancestral lands in Hawaiʻi. Growing up, she would tag along with her uncle as he led workshops across the island. She recalls one workshop where they performed Kui Kalo, the action of using a rock to mash up taro to make poi. 

“We would go around the island, having classes and teaching other people of our community how to reconnect with their culture and their roots,” Mitchell said. “I was always super involved.”

These memories led her to grow her Hawaiian roots for future advocacy.

She began her education at Kealakehe, a public school in her area for elementary and middle school. When she hit seventh grade, Mitchell left the Big Island to attend the Kamehameha boarding school in Oahu–with a full-ride scholarship. 

At Kamehameha, Mitchell lived in a dorm with young women from different islands and states. 

“The school I attended was founded with the goal of providing Hawaiian students with access to higher education and the support needed to succeed,” Mitchell said. “There was a lot more access to learning things about Hawaiian language, culture, history, than like a traditional school managed by the U.S. Department of Education.”

Mitchell cheered, danced Hula and Tahitian, played rugby, basketball, and ran track throughout her school career. She continued her activism journey with friends, even camping out on Mauna Kea for 10 days during the Thirty Meter Telescope Protests of July 2019. 

“I remember that was the first and probably the most intense protest that I've been to,” said Mitchell. “I was 14, and they had the National Guard and, like, the army come because there’s an army base at the base of the mountain. They lined up in front of us with guns and stuff, and they were threatening us with sound bombs, pepper spray, and Child Protective Services.”

When it came to attending college, Mitchell initially refused to go to the mainland. She felt lucky enough to be educated about Hawaiian history and its oppression, and didn’t want to be part of communities that contributed.

“I wanted to major in Hawaiian language and Hawaiian history,” Mitchell said. “My thoughts were always, ‘Okay, I'm going to the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa. America wasn't even in my head.” 

Instead, her parents encouraged her to pursue experiences outside of Hawaiʻi for higher education. With reluctance, she agreed, and was accepted into all the schools she applied to scattered across the United States. 

OSU was the closest to home, as well as most affordable with the most to offer. Though Mitchell planned different majors for her undergraduate degree, eventually becoming a lawyer was always the goal. She landed on political science, and though many studies are Western European centric, Mitchell tailors her work on Pacific Island and Hawaiian studies. 

“When I was focusing on those things that I was most passionate about, that's when I thrived the most, and got the most support from my professors,” Mitchell said. “Having that idea that I was always able to bring it back to having to do with my identity and my experiences as a person, especially like moving from Hawaiʻi to Oregon and experiencing a completely, totally different lens of how life can be, just made it so much easier.”

Mitchell has been on the board of the People of Color (POC) in Law and Politics Club, which her friend Summer Wong founded for marginalized groups pursuing careers in law. 

On top of this, Mitchell founded her own club called Ka ʻIkena Hawaiʻi, or the “Hawaiian Experience,” focused on educating and participating in cultural practices in the States. 

“The club was meant to encapsulate the different lived experiences of Hawaiian people, both from Hawaiʻi, living in Hawaiʻi, or those that grew up in the diaspora,” Mitchell said.

The turning point of the statistics class and being “othered” led her to create spaces of discussion. Mitchell felt this hopelessness and nearly transferred to a university in Hawaiʻi. Instead, she met Dr. Patricia Fifita, assistant professor of ethnic studies in the School of Language, Culture, and Society. Dr. Fifita helped Mitchell start the club by being her adviser.  

“I know I'm not the first person to have realized this. I'm not the only person to feel like this, either,” Mitchell said. “We did find our community, and we were able to make that community for other folks that were lacking that support. So that was super awesome.”

The club is supported by other nonprofit organizations from Hawaiʻi and the Ka ʻAha Lāhui O ʻOlekona Hawaiian Civic Club of Oregon & SW Washington (KALO). KALO helped fund their first year of club events, such as a lei making workshop, or t-shirt printing, where materials were shipped to Oregon from Hawaiʻi. All club events are free to attend, whether or not attendees are Hawaiian. 

“Our responsibility is to offer space for Hawaiian and non-Hawaiian folks to learn about Hawaiian culture,” Mitchell said. “We've been doing a lot of ‘No one is illegal on stolen land’ for the recent political movements.”

With the club in full force, Mitchell found another opportunity to work with Dr. Fifita in an ethnography research project on the island of Kauaʻi. 

The project focuses on recording oral histories through interviewing members of the community in Anahola, Kauaʻi. Originally managed by the Department of Hawaiian Homelands (DHHL), the agency turned over 432 acres of pristine coastline to a local nonprofit that’s developing a restoration plan centered on Kānaka ʻŌiwi self-determination, histories, ecological health, and healing. The goal is to re-envision what the island used to be prior to colonial impact, natural disasters, and overall devastation. 

Mitchell spent last summer on Kauaʻi interviewing community members, which she now considers her favorite summer yet. 

“The whole re-envisioning process is talking to elders to see how the community used to look back in the day,” Mitchell said. “We found there was a lot of reconstructing of waterways. So folks would come in, buy, and privatize the land, which is illegal because it's DHHL–it's supposed to be for Hawaiian people.”

Those who privatized DHHL lands disturbed the natural flow of water for personal quarries and ponds on their properties. Since they lived in the mountains, this blocked water flow from reaching communities residing below them. The lack of water access led to many worries, a main one being how to extinguish brush fires if they occurred. 

Mitchell found it interesting to discover Kauaʻi through a different lens. Though she has visited plenty, she was able to put herself in a more analytical position to view into the island’s past. 

“We've done all the research, we've done all of the interviews and ethnographies and oral histories that we can do,” Mitchell said. “Now, we’re looking at how we can take all of these notes and stories from these community members and re-envision what this place can look like in the future.”

After she graduates, Mitchell plans to apply to Richardson Law School at the University of Hawaiʻi, Mānoa, to study law with a focus on land conservation and real estate. 

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Tihani would like to dedicate this piece to her parents, Regina and Coogan, for their hard work and commitment to their family. Thank you for your sacrifices, I hope to do you justice. Hoʻi hou I ka ʻiwikuamoʻo