A few months ago, I was at the Waianae library to talk about writing with members of the book club. What ended up dominating the conversation was the west-side traffic and state Rep. Andria Tupola.
“She’s our Traffic Queen,” I was told. “She’s literally been out on the road in a skirt and heels directing traffic when the road is shut down.” Write about her, they said. “You should meet her. She’s different.”
I contacted Tupola’s office and asked to meet with her, but rather than talk across a desk, I asked if I might tag along on a typical day or while she was out in the community. She emailed a long list of events that I could choose from.
I picked a Saturday morning workday.
Tupola had been contacted by a PE teacher at Nanakuli High School who wanted help to remake his program. Locker facilities had been built for the school’s sports teams, but the lockers, showers and bathrooms were in deplorable condition.
The teacher’s vision appealed to Tupola. “He said, ‘The only place in the world that’s fair is the weight room. It’s not about status or wealth or even physical attributes. The work you put in to lifting weights determines what you get out of it.’”
The project was a metaphor, perhaps — overlooked potential that could, with some strategic effort, be put to good use for the benefit of the students.
“Solving problems is fun,” Tupola said, smiling. Tupola’s smile is both a sincere expression and a tool for negotiation. If she’s smiling at you, you’re more likely to let down your guard and listen to what she wants from you.
Tupola has a full arsenal of these techniques. She’s well-spoken, energetic, quick on her feet, able to motivate large groups of people to work together — qualities she used as a teacher, things she learned as a member of the Mormon church and while serving her mission overseas, and attributes that are just part of her personality.
“I like conflict,” she declared, and explained herself this way: “What conflict is, is unhappy voices. As a music teacher, I can’t just say, ‘Please lip-sync or just shut your mouth.’ As a teacher, I have to empower those voices.”
She smiled broadly, and then slid in a moment of humility. “Of course, sometimes it throws up all over me.”
Tupola, 36, was born in Kahuku, raised in Hawaii Kai, and graduated from Kamehameha Schools and Brigham Young University in Utah. She has her master’s degree in music education from the University of Hawaii and expects to complete her doctorate this year.
Her husband, Tavo Tupola, a police officer, was a standout football player at Kahuku, played at the University of Utah under coach Urban Meyer and spent time in the NFL. Their two daughters — 9-year-old Talitha and 8-year-old Cumorah — are students at Waiau Hawaiian immersion school.
At exactly 9 a.m., Tupola gathered the volunteers for instructions and a prayer. There were about 60 people, mostly members of the Mormon church. Soon, more volunteers arrived, and the crew numbered closer to 100.
The instructions were simple: Paint here, don’t paint there, let’s do a good job. Then the volunteers swarmed in like an army and got to work immediately.
A contractor who had a crew working elsewhere on the campus stopped by to chat with Tupola.
“You have the whole community out here, don’t you?” he said.
They got to talking. The contractor had extra lumber to donate. Tupola mentioned a project she has in mind to turn a discarded portable building into a study hall.
“Who’s your carpenter?” the man asked.
“Anybody,” Tupola answered — that one word lobbed into the air, full of possibilities.
The contractor returned the serve.
“There could be a time when we could spare some carpenters,” he offered.
“Really?” Tupola said with a big smile. After less than a minute, she walked over to show him the portable and described what needed to be done.
Kalei Gilbert, Tupola’s office manager, sees that sort of interaction happen all the time. “Her thing is always filling the gap, finding the need and connecting people.”
Kaeo Kealoha-Lindsey, who also works for Tupola, said the lawmaker’s measurement of success is maximum community engagement.
“She’s a teacher,” he said. “We held a town hall last month. There were about 50 people in a small room. Everyone got their questions answered.”
By 11 a.m., the job that seemed so massive was almost finished. There were paint spills all over the cement floor, but nobody is worried about that. They’ll pressure-wash those off later.
It’s only when she’s asked that Tupola talks about politics. And it’s only when pressed does she talk about what it’s like to be a Republican in Hawaii in the Trump era.
She started with her 2004 Mormon mission to Venezuela. “That’s where I learned about socialism. In Venezuela, they have free housing, free medical, but nobody was happy. If you can get free stuff, why try?”
The experience solidified her belief in the value of self-reliance, of wanting to work, of having incentive to be creative and to strive.
She first became involved in politics as a volunteer in Mitt Romney’s 2012 presidential bid. Other volunteers started telling her that she should run for state representative in 2014.
Her husband did not like the idea. She said she prayed about it.
If she won, she’d have to give up the job she loved — teaching music at Leeward Community College — since state lawmakers can’t work for the University of Hawaii. But she felt a calling.
“If I work real hard, I thought, I can do it.” She made her own mailers, designed her own signs and walked District 43, which goes from Ewa to Maili, 17 times.
“My focus was to continually share my intention,” she said. “Rather than talk about where I stand on issues that may not affect the people out here, I was asking, ‘What do you need help with?’” She heard about traffic lights that needed to be adjusted, roadsides that needed to be cleared, things that could be fixed with creativity and community involvement.
When election night came, Tupola was summoned to the Republican headquarters in town, but declared, “I ain’t gonna be at Kapiolani Boulevard on election night. I’m going to be right here in my community.” Tupola beat incumbent Karen Awana by 733 votes.
That’s how she’s a Republican during the Trump era — head down, hands busy, working in her own district to empower people to take care of themselves.
She has many stories of “What you put in is what you get out,” like how she lost 100 pounds by counting calories, running the back roads of Maili and telling herself, “You can do this.” She has completed several marathons.
There are more challenges ahead. Tupola is considering running for higher office. She’s not ready to make a formal announcement, but she’s talking to those closest to her and telling herself anything is possible.
“Words can diminish or words can empower,” she said. “You have to tell yourself that you can.”