When visitors step off the plane at Daniel K. Inouye International Airport, they are immediately met with the word “aloha.” It’s on the welcome signs, the brochures and those overpriced airport shirts. Hotel staff greet guests with a scripted “aloha” and plastic lei — often shipped in from thousands of miles away — are handed out. Aloha is everywhere, at least in print. This is the version of aloha that’s easy to sell. The kind that fits neatly on a souvenir or slogan. But drive outside the tourist hubs, past the glittering hotels, and into the heart of the islands and you’ll see what aloha truly is. It’s families rebuilding their community in Lahaina, an uncle buying extra bentos to share, and someone throwing you a shaka after merging on the highway. It is the foundation of Hawaii’s identity — a spirit of connection, generosity and unconditional love that has guided life on the islands for generations. Yet, ask around, and you’ll hear the same thing: Aloha isn’t as strong as it used to be. That’s what we found after interviewing over 100 Hawaii residents of all ages and walks of life as part of the Center for Tomorrow’s Leaders’ Fellows Program. For many, the aloha spirit has been reduced to a brand. It’s something to be sold and marketed to visitors who want to “live aloha” for a week before flying home. Others say that modern distractions have left people too exhausted to show up for one another like they used to. Generosity becomes difficult when you’re working long hours and barely scraping by. With Hawaii’s high cost of living, continued housing crisis, and economic uncertainty, people are stretched thin — and when your plate is already full, there’s little room to consider the needs of others. But many locals, like Island Movers CEO Donald Takaki, insist that “the aloha spirit isn’t just a marketing tool.” “There’s a practical reality to it,” he said. “Locals know what goes around, comes around.” That spirit of mutual care and reciprocity is deeply rooted in Hawaiian culture. Under the ancient kapu system, resources were shared and people looked out for one another. That principle lasted through generations, shaping a culture where people helped their neighbors without expecting anything in return. Today, that kind of reciprocity isn’t automatic. But that doesn’t mean it’s gone. Through our interviews, we heard stories that remind us of how aloha still lives on. Ethan Yang, a senior at Kaiser High School, said he felt it during his soccer senior night: “Seeing so many people come out with love and appreciation really showed me the power of connection and friendship.” State Rep. Rachele Lamosao of District 36 said she felt it during her trips to visit her sister at the University of Hawaii at Hilo. “I distinctly remember how strangers would warmly greet us as we passed by,” she said. “It was in those moments that I truly felt the aloha spirit.” Aloha doesn’t just linger in the air — it exists because people choose to carry it forward. Hawaii even has an Aloha Spirit Law that acts as a reminder that kindness, unity, and respect are supposed to be the guiding principles of this place. But ultimately, laws don’t create culture – people do. The aloha spirit is more than just a catchphrase, a marketing tool, or a law — it’s the heartbeat of Hawaii. If we want to preserve what makes our islands so special, we must go beyond words and actively embody aloha in how we treat each other, from the way we drive on the freeway to how we engage with our communities. Aloha isn’t fading — it’s waiting for us to choose it. Carson Holt is a student at Punahou School, Yeon Jae Kim is at Roosevelt High School and Rylie Kubo is at Iolani School; they are all Class of 2025. “Raise Your Hand,” a monthly column featuring Hawaii’s youth and their perspectives, appears in the Insight section on the first Sunday of each month. It is facilitated by the Center for Tomorrow’s Leaders. For more information: CTLhawaii.org.