Sarah on a solo road trip in New Zealand, 2013.
You’d think an editor with 20-plus years under the belt would be outgoing, charismatic, mingling at social events, eager to speak to people and connecting at all levels of social media (in more recent years). Not always the case.
I began my magazine career at a local visitor publication behind a big, bulky desk in a two-person production department with X-ACTO® knives, a T-square and waxing machine. It was my happy place.
However, with a degree in English and Communications, the call to make a living in my majors brought me into the editorial department. Two weeks later, I was laid off due to Hurricane ‘Iniki.
Three months later, however, the company brought me back and I went on to share our Hawaiian Islands with visitors from around the world. This was the time prior to visitors numbering in the hundreds of thousands arriving each year. I loved my job immensely. I had found my calling.
The one thorn in my side was the fact that I greatly disliked socializing.
Publisher: “Can you attend a pau hana event for this advertiser?”
Me: “ … I can’t make it. How about sending (fill in countless names)?”
Executive editor: “Can you make it to this media premier?”
Me: “Uh … can two people go? I can write it up and bring so-and-so as a photographer (ie. shield)?”
Back then, my publishers and executive editors would let it slide. But then I stepped into the executive editor role. Ugh. So I sucked it up and attended events. I thought to myself, if I can travel solo, why in the heck can’t I attend an event by myself?? The voice in the back of my head replied, “Because you have to mingle.”
Suffice it to say, I’ve come out of my shell step by step over the years, and a large part of it has to do with working on a small inflight publication in which the editorial focus was people and their stories. Fly to another island with a coworker? Awesome! Interview … people? Uh … okay?
Unbeknownst to me in the beginning, this experience, interview by interview, revealed an innate part of me that loves to learn about people and connect with them. It’s the reason I feel passionately about Being Hawai‘i.
I’m still not a 100% people person, but I love learning what people do, how they think, hearing their stories and what inspires them. Every person, no matter their age or where they are in life, has a unique story to share. I’m grateful to the residents of Moloka‘i and to P.J. O’Reilly for putting their trust in me to share their stories. I’m also thankful for my publishers who gave me the freedom to do it, along with the many from whom I’ve learned, worked alongside and inspired me everyday.
I’m keen to share what makes our Hawaiian Islands so special. It’s the people, of course, but also the culture, traditions, history and places.
I hope you’ll join us on this new, exciting venture.
Contact me at sarah@beinghawaii.com.
Richard after winning the championship title, 2018.
I remember writing stories in elementary school that were poorly veiled (and poorly done) rip-offs of “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” “Jaws,” and “Alien,” starring my friends and me.
I remember filling journals with notes and sketches detailing the adventures of dozens of super heroes and villains of my own creation.
I remember the first time I submitted a short story to a magazine. And got rejected.
I remember rewriting that story, again and again. And getting rejected, again. And again.
I remember getting my first review accepted by an online magazine.
I remember winning my first short story writing contest.
I remember the first time I read one of my stories in front of an audience.
I remember getting my first short story published in print.
I remember the first time an interview I conducted was published in print.
I remember receiving my first check for a freelance assignment.
I remember getting hired as a full time staff editor.
I remember when we decided to start Being Hawaiʻi.
In between, I worked summer jobs in home improvement and food service, held full time positions in retail and non-profits. I’ve been a fry cook and a program director, a customer service rep and an editor. No, the path that got me here was anything but direct. In its own way, though, it felt inevitable.
Thanks to everyone who gave me a place to step along the way. And thank you for being a part of this journey moving forward.
Hit me up at richard@beinghawaii.com.
Richard on the westside of Oʻahu, date unknown.
Here We Come
As I write this, I’m listening to The Smiths’ final album Strangeways, Here We Come. I used to think the title was an embrace of the unknown, a surrender to the uncertainty and absurdity that is life. Perhaps even an invitation. “We are about to embark on a strange and wonderful journey. Won’t you join us?”
Late Spring of 2020, much of the staff of our company was furloughed. A month and a half earlier, due to COVID-19, our state was put on lockdown. Businesses were shuttered, schools closed and travel had effectively ceased. As a visitor publication on an island where there were no more visitors, there was little we could do but cut costs, wait things out and hope for the best. What our company thought would just be a month-long nap turned into a deep sleep.
Somewhere around month three or four, our company asked the entire team to brainstorm new ideas to generate revenue. It could be a new product or service, a new sales initiative, a new strategy, anything that could generate profit and help us navigate these troubled waters. No idea was too dumb or bold. The sky was the limit.
Sarah and I separately came up with ideas for new publications, one online (with possible growth into print) and the other print (with a possible online component). Our ideas were different enough to stand on their own as separate projects, but complimentary enough thematically where they could comfortably share the same space. Our ideas as presented had low overhead and modest initial outlay and could be launched relatively quickly, hopefully dulling our company’s growing pain. Selfishly, we also saw this as an opportunity to do stories that we couldn’t do at the existing publication.
Ultimately, the company passed on both of our concepts — the investment of time and resources, and the risk of launching something new and untested in an uncertain time wasn’t in the cards –- but the notion of building on our ideas, the itch to do something new and different –- and ours –- had latched itself onto our consciousness like an opihi.
Soon, a few of us who were furloughed began talking about creating a new publication of our own. One bowed out due to anticipated time and workload constraints. Another former employee, who had left the company long before COVID was even a thing, expressed interest in contributing, and another former employee had agreed to help with our design needs. And Being Hawaiʻi was on its way.
It’s a long, strange journey from having an idea, an itch, to launching a publication. Sarah and I have no illusions that we’re going to set the publishing world on fire. These stories are the first, tenuous steps towards doing something we want to do, without constraints being imposed upon us.
Strangeways, Here We Come, I learned years later, is a reference to Strangeways Prison in Manchester, England. The album title was a foreboding statement, not an optimistic one. Yet, to this day, it still reads to me like a battle cry, of sorts, a wry declaration made as one turns to face the chaos of the world head-on.
As of December 31, 2020, all employees at our company who were still on furlough were let go. (No hard feelings on anyoneʻs part). What the future has in store is impossible to tell. Two-thousand-twenty was a helluva a year, and 2021 is already off to a dramatic start. These are certainly strange days, indeed. Strangeways, perhaps, even, in the title’s intended sense. But only as much as we allow ourselves to be imprisoned. And that brings us to today.
Sarah and I set out to do an online magazine about Hawaiʻi and its people. We wanted to write about the things we as a state are doing, the things we’re experiencing, the land we live on and the lives we lead in general. Hence our tagline, “Living. Doing. Being.” It’s a broad statement that can encompass so many different aspects of our existence and types of stories. But we are a broad, multi-faceted region with a range of cultures and experiences and stories to share, after all. Why shackle ourselves, right?
When we get down to it, Sarah and I started Being Hawaiʻi because we wanted to and because we could. We wanted to do something that was ours and not limited by page counts, corporate mandates or advertiser concerns. Whether Being Hawaiʻi bombs or somehow becomes a money-maker, whether it’s read by 20 or 20,000, we don’t know, and, frankly, we don’t care.
Because we’re taking a leap. We’re about to embark on a strange and wonderful journey. Won’t you join us?
Richard Melendez
January 8, 2021
Editor. Co-Founder. Being Hawai‘i.
The Being Hawai‘i logo was created by Designer Chase Nuuhiwa. For more on this creator and his work, visit www.chasenuuhiwa.com.