������Ƶ

An agricultural land grab near a pristine national park ignites a fierce battle for survival, heritage, and the future identity of a rural community for generations to come. As profiteering developers open the floodgates for urbanization, a community — rooted for generations in tradition and grit — must fight to protect their legacy.

This isn’t the synopsis for the next award-winning television series. This is the crisis faced by the rural and remote communities of Ka‘ū, on the island of Hawai‘i.

This is the story of how every rural community across the Hawaiian Islands has been ransacked in a land grab for a piece of paradise, turning a place of natural beauty into the ugly urban sprawl that most paradise-seekers are trying to escape.

However, it certainly sounds similar enough to the synopsis of an award-winning hit drama. “Yellowstone” recently aired its final season’s finale to a record viewership, enshrining its place as a cultural phenomenon that not only redefined modern Western storytelling but also underscored America’s enduring fascination with themes of power, family/community, and the untamed frontier.

If you know, you know. But for those who don’t, “Yellowstone centers on the timeless conflict between rural life and encroaching urbanization. The story’s heroes are those cowboys (and cowgirls) who have been subsisting off the land for centuries, roughing out a hard-earned living to feed America while preserving an iconic piece of our heritage — a powerful reminder of American grit, resilience, and the enduring strength found in living close to the land.

Opposing our heroes are the story’s villains, the ungrateful and opportunistic city folk clawing their way through the countryside playing pretend cowboy, while buying up and destroying agricultural lands for future urban sprawl, which causes a cataclysmic socio-economic collapse for country folk — pricing them out of their homes and their way of life.

Amid all its juicy-juicy drama, “Yellowstone” challenges the misconception that traditional, land-based (agricultural) lifestyles — how we lived sustainably and self-sufficiently for generations — are a relic of the past. They’re not gone, but they are in rapid decline, driven away by the rise of an unsustainable way of life too often mistaken as the ideal.

In the end, the Yellowstone Ranch is returned to a Native American tribe who had revered its sacredness from time immemorial, and our heroes find their version of happily ever after. Yet, “Yellowstone” remains a real-life cowboy’s poignant reminder that similar real-world struggles persist.

The real life drama of Hawai‘i, however, continues without its happily ever after.

Ka‘ū, meaning the breast, is a rural and remote district comprising the southern and eastern flank of Mauna Loa, the largest active volcano on Earth. Ka‘ū has a rich cultural heritage rooted in agriculture and paniolo (cowboys) have worked its ranges long before even the Cowboy State was welcomed into the Union. My family has been here since time immemorial.

Larger than the island of O‘ahu, significant portions of Ka‘ū are held within Hawai‘i Volcanoes National Park. The sheer lack of hotels within the proximity of the park system has ignited a real estate boom — housing inventory in park-adjacent communities have been snatched up by out-of-state investors to serve as short-term vacation rentals.

For those Native Hawaiians and other long-time multi-generationally rooted locals of Ka‘ū, life is hard. In-district economic opportunities are scarce, requiring residents to endure over two-hour long commutes to and from the economic hubs of Hilo and Kona, meaning far less time for anything outside of work especially spending time with family.

The residents of Ka‘ū face greater disparities across the board. In a state where live paycheck-to-paycheck, the already historically underserved and socially disadvantaged residents of Ka‘ū are forced to compete against wealthy real estate investors, pricing them out of their homeland — and keeping them out.

‘Fake Farms’

Recently, Kau Royal Hawaiian Coffee & Tea LP has initiated subdividing approximately 1,610 acres of mostly agricultural land in likely preparation for sale. The owner, Eva Liu, of the very same entity, has already been at the center of community controversy involving her proposal near the famous Punalu‘u (Black Sand beach).

There are widespread abuses here in Hawai‘i, where real estate developers have bought up agricultural lands under the guise of bona fide agricultural practices only to subdivide and flip them for profit. More often than not, these agricultural lands retain lower property tax profiles, and are sought after by real estate investors with the prospect of building a dream home on the parcel.

These “fake farms” are a serious detriment to the state’s agricultural potential and they exacerbate outmigration — the forcing out — of long-time residents of our rural communities, who are increasingly vulnerable to this kind of economic volatility.

As the forces of unsustainable urbanization relentlessly push into our rural communities like Ka‘ū, the cultural identity of these places — and the very people who have lived there for generations — faces a critical threat. The fight to protect agricultural lands is not just about preserving the land itself but safeguarding the way of life that has shaped these communities for centuries.

The erasure of this identity, driven by schemes to profit off the land, risks turning once-thriving agricultural regions into nothing more than distant memories. If we are to stop the rapid destruction of our rural communities, we must demand an end to the forces that seek to erase their heritage, their livelihood, and their future.

This is not just a local battle — it is a fight for the soul of rural America and Hawai‘i, where the echoes of history can still be heard in the rhythms of everyday life, and where preserving these traditions is key to maintaining the diversity and resilience of our nation.