Reflections from Our Youngest Attendee & Onward
Celebrating the Legacy and Life of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. at Queen’s
by The Rev. Al Miles
In the mid-1990s, Carol Stevens from our Public Relations department and I met with then-Queen’s President & CEO, Art Ushijima. We asked for a plaque on campus honoring the legacy and life of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Art immediately agreed and took this request several steps further by planting a 10-foot Australian Bottlebrush. The plaque and tree (now well over 30-feet tall) are permanently located just outside of Iolani Ground.
Whether in bright sunshine or during torrential rainstorms, hundreds of Queen’s and community folks have gathered over the past three decades at the MLK, Jr., Memorial Tree. Expressing their desire in music and prose for a world filled with acceptance, justice, love, peace, and respect for all humankind, this tradition has continued uninterrupted. (During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, I stood in front of the Memorial Tree alone while being taped by Queen’s videographer, Marcus Reimel. Later that same day, he posted my message to all of our ‘ohana on YouTube.)
In January 2002, our youngest attendee, six-year-old Aidan Morita, came to the MLK, Jr., ceremony with his mother and father, Queen’s employees Mimi Donnelly and Alan Morita. The above photo captures Aidan, sitting in a deep squat, reading a book about Dr. King as the ceremony was in progress.
Now age 30, Aidan has spotty memories of that event. “Given how young I was, I don’t have a particularly strong memory of the 2002 ceremony,” he said. “I remember the tree, I remember the group standing in a circle, but not much beyond that. I remember having the book in one of my parent’s office areas. It’s a little mixed up with some of the subsequent ones I attended.”
The impact and influence on Aidan’s life of Dr. King’s teachings, grassroots agencies, and historical events from the 1950s and 1960s are far more palpable.
“Both my parents frequently attended the MLK, Jr. ceremonies at Queen’s,” he recalls. “They were very influential to my embrace of Dr. King’s messages about equality, hope, and justice. The same is true with my maternal grandmother, Frances, and my aunt, Christine. They all taught me the inclusiveness of Dr. King’s work and the importance of collaboration between Black and White folks.”
From an early age, Aidan learned about the vital virtues of acceptance and love, and the devastating results of bigotry and hatred. “I was given books such as The Story of Ruby Bridges [which tells the true tale of a six-year-old girl who, in 1960, became the first Black child to attend Frantz Elementary School in New Orleans.]” He studied the mission of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, or SNCC, a 1960’s grassroots agency committed to nonviolent responses to bigotry. He also heard the horrifying tale of Emmett Till, a 14-year-old Black boy from Chicago, whose murder in 1955 by White men in Mississippi sparked a national outrage.
Aidan remains committed to the virtues of equality, justice, love, and peace for all, but he understands these require actions and risks. “We can’t expect people to go out in the street to be attacked and brutalized without hope and inspiration for a better world for everyone,” he says; “Our call to action in 2026 needs to resonate with the message Dr. King taught in the 1950s and ‘60s. Let’s take every opportunity to bring his vision closer to a reality.”
As we begin decade four of our annual Martin Luther King, Jr., ceremony at Queen’s, I am painfully aware that his dream of a world where people are judged on character rather than on skin tone is far from realized. In addition to the color of one’s skin, many in our society still focus far too much on ableism; country of origin, culture, ethnicity, faith and religion; gender identity and sexual orientation, and social economic status. Our opportunities for a kind and loving world are endless. However, we all must committed to these virtues. I hope and pray we will.
