Oʻahu 

Some places ask you to slow down.
Hawaiʻi reminded me that I could.

Between meaningful work, warm ocean air, new experiences, and moments of unexpected stillness, I discovered that paradise isn’t only something you see. Sometimes, it’s something you feel.

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There are some trips that feel like vacations, and then there are trips that seem to give you exactly what you needed without you realizing you needed it. My few days on Oʻahu felt a little like both.

I traveled to Hawaiʻi to present at a conference, where my work centered on Black girls—an area of research that remains deeply important to me. But somewhere between boarding the plane and returning home, the trip became about more than the presentation. It became an opportunity to experience a place I had heard about and seen in photographs for years, but had never experienced for myself.

Getting There

The trip began with an incredibly smooth flight. There is something about settling into your seat for a long flight and realizing that, for the next several hours, there really isn't anywhere else you need to be. No errands to run. No traffic to fight. No list of things waiting in another room.

Just the journey.
And at the end of that journey was Hawaiʻi.

Arriving on Oʻahu immediately felt different. The warmth, the landscape, the mountains rising behind the city, the water, the tropical greenery—it was one of those places where you find yourself looking around because there is always something beautiful in view.

Experiencing Oʻahu

One of the things I enjoyed most about the trip was simply experiencing the island.

Oʻahu has an interesting rhythm because Honolulu gives you the energy of a city, while the ocean, mountains and lush landscape continually remind you that you are on an island in the middle of the Pacific.

There was Waikīkī, of course, and the unmistakable silhouette of Diamond Head. There were local shops, meals, drives around the island and those ordinary little moments that often become some of my favorite travel memories.

And yes, there were ABC Stores.
Lots of ABC Stores.

I bought quite a few of my souvenirs there, and after a while, stopping inside became part of the experience. Sometimes the things we remember about a trip aren't only the famous landmarks, they're the little routines we develop while we're there—the stores we keep wandering into, something we eat more than once, the route we begin to recognize, or the place where we stop just because we have a few minutes.

Those moments make a destination begin to feel familiar.

The Reason for the Trip

At the center of the trip was the opportunity to present my research on Black girls.

Standing in Hawaiʻi discussing the experiences, education and lives of Black girls carried its own significance for me. Academic conferences give researchers an opportunity to share what we have been studying, but they also allow ideas to travel—to move beyond our offices, classrooms and universities and enter conversations with people from different places and perspectives.

I am looking forward to sharing more about the presentation itself separately, because the work deserves its own conversation. But I also wanted to remember the experience surrounding it.

I went to Oʻahu to do meaningful work.
I also had the opportunity to see somewhere new.

I enjoyed good food, brought home far too many souvenirs, looked out at the Pacific, experienced another part of the world and allowed myself to simply be present in it.

A Few Days in Paradise

Travel doesn't always have to be transformational.
Sometimes it can simply be good.

A smooth flight. A beautiful island. Meaningful work. Something delicious to eat. A bag filled with souvenirs. Photographs that will eventually remind you of things you had forgotten.

And a few days somewhere completely different from home.

Oʻahu gave me all of that.

For a trip that began with a conference presentation, it became a lovely reminder that work and ease do not always have to exist on opposite sides of our lives.

Sometimes you can do the work that matters to you—and still leave a little room for paradise.