Chaminade University of Honolulu

Alumni

Economics, Democracy and Entrepreneurship

Over decades of work as an educator and activist, Li Schoolland ’88 has appeared before young professionals in fledgling democracies around the globe to underscore the importance of cherishing—and fighting to preserve—freedom and to offer a path forward in crafting a free market future.

She counts among her former students the mayor of Vilnius, Lithuania, along with countless policymakers, advocates and leaders of non-governmental organizations across Eastern Europe, China, the Middle East and elsewhere. Last year, she was on the road for 200 days—traveling to 24 countries.

Schoolland, speaking from her Waipahu home on a recent day, says she’s driven by two passions in life.

“One is God,” she says. “One is liberty.”

And even amid the pandemic, with traveling out of the question, she’s continued her work. In September, she was preparing to speak to virtual classrooms in Africa, China and Europe via Zoom, a medium that she admits took some getting used to but that she’s proud to have since mastered.

Schoolland accomplishes her work thanks to loose affiliations with a number of international organizations and strong relationships with an army of economists worldwide. She says she doesn’t ask for speaking fees—and kindly requests that they all do the same.

In return, she says, she gets to see the positive impact of her work.

“Coming from a Communist country inspired me to help,” she said.

Schoolland grew up in China, the daughter of a surgeon and a professor, and says she saw the cruel injustices of authoritarian Communist rule firsthand. When she moved to the United States in the 1980s, she vowed to do whatever she could to promote liberal economics and do some good in the world.

After completing a Master’s degree in Japanese literature at the University of Minnesota, Schoolland made her way to the islands to enroll in Chaminade’s Master’s degree in Japanese Business Studies. She describes the program, which was offered through a corporate partnership, as “intense” and immersive.

“The experience was very valuable,” she said. “Six days of classes and a lot of homework.”

As part of the degree, she was able to complete a three-month internship in Japan. She was interested in retail so sought an internship at a department store. During her time there, she helped the merchandising department develop a new brand that launched in the store.

After graduation, Schoolland remained in retail, working with Duty Free and then starting her own business as an art dealer. She also worked with a Japanese development company into the early 1990s.

The crash of the Japanese economy in 1991, though, changed the course of her life.

The business she worked for had to liquidate and Schoolland found herself with a new purpose: as the caregiver to elderly relatives. She went back into the workplace seven years later, as a teacher. By then, she wasn’t interested in the hectic, round-the-clock world of development or retail. She wanted a position that would allow her to spend time, especially the holidays, with her family.

Schoolland found a teaching position at Punahou, where her daughter was attending school.

And during breaks, she and her daughter would try to squeeze in as much travel as they could.

At every destination, Schoolland would wear her teaching hat, sharing what she knew with others.

That wanderlust grew into a mission: Schoolland and her husband, also an economist, started coordinating educational camps and conferences for young professionals. Oftentimes, the events were in partnership with local universities. The topics: Free market economics and democracy.

Schoolland’s work has taken her across Eastern Europe, from Lithuania to Latvia to Estonia to Poland.

About 10 years ago, she was delighted to finally set up an event in China. She partnered with Northeastern University there and developed a summer school program with about 100 students. Last year, more than 200 students attended to hear well-known economists from around the world.

The speakers, she said, “sacrifice and they don’t get paid” to attend the events.

So far this year, Schoolland has had to cancel more than seven trips internationally. That hasn’t discouraged her. If anything, it has redoubled her resolve to promote market economics, democracy and entrepreneurship. She said she can’t wait to get back on the road (and in the air) when she’s able to.

Pushing Boundaries: Sushi with Attitude

Remi Kohno '15

At Chaminade University, we talk a lot about adaptation and change—educating for adaptation and change is one of the five core tenets of a Marianist education. The concept is woven throughout our curricula, and our students learn about the importance of embracing change and adapting to meet it as they move through our programs.

Adapting to change is something that is very familiar to Remi Kohno ‘15. She came to Chaminade University from Pasadena, California to play basketball and major in elementary education. But after her first year, she realized neither of those were the right fit. She didn’t like the competition she found on the basketball court, and teaching wasn’t her passion. So she quit the basketball team and switched her major to communications with a focus in marketing.

Her junior year brought even more change when she joined the Hogan Entrepreneurial Program. It quickly started pushing her out of her comfort bubble, and it altered the way she reacted to pressure. 

“I saw all these great people join the Hogan program and I wanted to be just like them,” recalls Kohno. “Hogan definitely pushed my boundaries, which was nice. It really helped me grow as a person, both professionally and personally.”

Students who are accepted into the Hogan Entrepreneurial Program spend one or two years learning what it takes to become a successful entrepreneur. They mingle and network with some of Hawaii’s biggest business leaders, they travel, they participate in internships and they work with industry leaders to design their own business plans and fine tune their public speaking abilities.

The program helped Kohno break out of her shell and become more confident in her abilities to lead and engage.

One moment in particular stands out in her memory. Every Wednesday evening, Hogan participants gather to welcome and learn from a guest speaker from the Hawaii business industry. Guests range from Mattson Davis, the former president and CEO of Kona Brewing Co., to Chuck Cardinal, a former Colonel in the United States Army and the former Chief of Staff to a WWII Commander.

On this particular night, the speaker was Eddie Flores, Jr., the founder of L&L Hawaiian BBQ. Flores has an inspiring story—he’s the son of immigrant parents and the eldest of seven children. His family moved to Hawaii from China when he was a young child. His father worked as a janitor and his mother worked as a restaurant cashier and dishwasher. He himself struggled with a learning disability growing up that kept him behind in school. But as a young man, he worked hard, ultimately earning enough money to buy his mother a restaurant, in what would become the first L&L location. His restaurant chain now has over 200 locations and in 2019 it was ranked as the No. 1 Asian food franchise by Entrepreneur. 

Kohno had been designated as the evening’s notetaker, which meant it was her job to document Flores’ speech and at the end of the evening, stand up to present a recap to her classmates while Flores watched on.

She was just a little intimidated. “You’re listening and engaging, but you’re also taking notes so that you can structure it into a recap and presentation,” remembers Kohno. “After [Flores] was done, I had to go up in front of the whole class and do a quick overview of what was most important. It was nerve-wracking. But then I got to give him a lei, which was nice and helped alleviate any tension.”

Remi Kohno '15 at the American Advertising Federation’s Most Promising Multicultural Student program

Kohno’s senior year, right after returning from a semester studying abroad in France, one of her professors recommended her for the American Advertising Federation’s Most Promising Multicultural Student program. She was one of only a handful of students selected from across the nation to participate in the intensive immersion program, designed to connect diverse up-and-coming advertising talent with some of the largest advertisers in the nation. She once again found herself at the airport, ready to embrace the unknown, this time in New York City.

Luckily, she had learned how to network and interact with business leaders through the Hogan program. “We got to meet a ton of people and tour their facilities and headquarters,” says Kohno. “It was an opportunity to connect with businesses and send them your resume, and hopefully get a follow up interview to help jumpstart your career after college.”

Through all of the change and opportunity that came her way at Chaminade, Hogan taught Kohno to remain calm and collected, and cool under pressure. Through Hogan and her professors, she learned to see challenge as opportunity. It’s something that has served her well after college, particularly today.

Remi Kohno '15 with her family—Sushi With Attitude

Before COVID, her family ran a small restaurant stall called Sushi with Attitude at a night market in Los Angeles. While she has a full-time job at NBC during the day, she helps them on the side. When the pandemic shut down the market, they had to completely rethink their strategy and their focus. With Kohno’s help, they converted the business into a cloud kitchen model, meaning they are operating completely on delivery apps without a storefront, and launched a new product: the sushibi. It’s a combination of sushi and musubi.

“We wanted to offer musubi, but a lot of people in Los Angeles don’t know what they are,” says Kohno. “We also wanted to be able to show up in the sushi category on delivery apps—it is one of the most used keywords. So we rebranded our musubi to be sushibi to bridge the gap.”

The business has received a bit of media attention as a result, and Kohno’s Hogan training has come in useful.

Remi Kohno '15 and her family being interviewed for their family business, Sushi With Attitude

“Hogan helped me learn to speak and structure what I’m going to say, which has helped a lot with media interviews,” says Kohno. “I recently interviewed with KTLA news. I was really nervous because it was live, but it was nice to be able to do something that I wasn’t really comfortable with, and Hogan taught me how to do that.”

Kohno attributes much of her recent success to Hogan and the opportunities she had at Chaminade. “Definitely Hogan, all of the professors I had at Chaminade and being part of the American Advertising Federation, they have all helped me grow into this role that I have right now.”

She works full-time as a manager in paid social media at NBC. And only five years after graduating from college, she feels like she’s almost landed her dream job.

“I love what I do at NBC. They’re a really great company,” says Kohno. “I want to continue to grow and become a director, and continue to be knowledgeable about all the various platforms and their nuances and updates. That is my dream goal. I think I’m almost there.”

Faith In Action

Dr. Brandy Sato ’97 ’02 knows a thing or two about Catholic school. A Kailua native, her family has a legacy of attending either Sacred Hearts Academy or St. Louis School. She followed suit and attended the all-girls school through high school, before making the trek across Waialae Avenue to attend Chaminade University. After graduating, she spent some time teaching in Catholic schools and then returned to Chaminade to get her Master’s in Education.

Brandy Sato '97 '02

So naturally, when Sato assumed the role of secondary school principal at Island Pacific Academy this past June, she was attracted to the school’s focus on values. She saw a strong connection between the values that guide Island Pacific—humility, love, respect, generosity and gratitude—with those that she was taught at Sacred Hearts Academy and Chaminade University. 

“At Island Pacific, we have certain values that we live by and that we teach our children,” says Sato. “Those values are very easy for me to promote because they align with my Catholic faith.”

While she learns to navigate her new institution and lead the school through the novel coronavirus pandemic, she finds herself regularly drawing upon her faith.

“Faith is a benchmark and the foundation upon which we need to stand during this current health pandemic,” says Sato. “The gospels that were instilled in me throughout my education are really a good compass for how to thrive during these challenging times.”

Her time at Chaminade has also helped set a precedent for what she hopes to achieve at Island Pacific. Because Chaminade is a small school, it allowed her to learn in a way that best met her needs. It helped her understand the importance of personalized learning—something she’s really taking to heart as Island Pacific works to refine its distance learning program.

“During this pandemic, as we look to different ways of instruction, I think a lot about my personalized experience at Chaminade,” says Sato. “It has helped me make sure that we are really connecting with our students, that we know them well enough to continue to educate them in a way that helps them explore their passions.”

Chaminade also offered Sato an example of what it means to provide a well-rounded education. “Academics were very important at Chaminade, but so were social opportunities, particularly those that helped me explore my faith,” says Sato. “The experience I had at Chaminade is one I want to duplicate for my students here at Island Pacific, to make sure we continue to educate the whole child.”

Ultimately, for Sato, that’s her life’s mission—to build a new generation of well-rounded individuals who strive to serve their communities. Being an educator is the most powerful way for Sato to give back and put her own faith into action. By inspiring and motivating children, and helping them to reach their dreams and explore their passions, Sato believes she can change the world.

“I really want to leave the world in a better place when I’m gone,” says Sato. She pauses for a while, while reflecting on her legacy and the meaning behind decades of hard work. “I see that my vocation in life is to inspire and motivate. To provide multiple opportunities for children to reach their dreams and explore their passions, and to help them to have lifelong careers and interests that will make the world a better place.”

Education in the Time of COVID

When Shana Tong, MEd ‘08 was offered the position of interim president at Maryknoll School, a private Catholic school in Honolulu, the situation couldn’t have been more urgent. It was July of 2020, and the education system around the world had just been rocked by one of the biggest challenges of the century: the COVID-19 pandemic.

Shana Tong, MEd '08

Schools across the globe had spent the last part of the 2019-20 school year scrambling to finish out the year remotely. No one really knew what fall of 2020 would bring—would schools be able to reopen? Teachers and administrators were working double-time to prepare for all possible scenarios.

In Hawaii, things were looking stable in early July. But now, a little over one month later, everything has changed. Numbers are rising, and quickly. The situation is becoming much more dire, and public schools have now been mandated to begin their school year online.

If there is anyone that can lead Maryknoll through these difficult times, it’s Tong. Tong knows Maryknoll like the back of her hand. She has had every possible relationship with the school—she has been a Maryknoll student, parent, teacher and administrator. And her endless optimism and easy manner will serve the school well during these unpredictable times.

It isn’t easy assuming a new leadership role in the middle of a pandemic with so many unknowns ahead. Tong knows her biggest challenge will be making sure the parents, students and teachers all feel comfortable and confident in the new learning plan.

“Everyday it could change,” acknowledges Tong. “Being flexible, adaptable, resilient—those are the skills we are going to need in order to really thrive and make sure our children are feeling confident and cared for, and to give them a sense of normalcy, even when the world is crazy out there.”

Tong credits the knowledge she gained in Chaminade’s Master of Education program with helping her navigate the complexity of the situation today. She had already had an extensive teaching career when she enrolled in the program in 2006, but Chaminade taught her about the business of running a school—the finance, law and human resources side of things. It gave her the solid foundation she needed to become a confident leader.

But even more so, her professors at Chaminade modeled what it meant to be a Catholic educator, something Tong is holding very near and dear today. Regardless of a child’s faith, Tong believes the Catholic education that Maryknoll helps shape children to become more responsible and caring citizens.

“When children see themselves and their role in the world as bigger than themselves, it’s always enlightening,” says Tong. “It sets the path for how they take care of other people, making difficult decisions when times are tough.”

That’s especially true in today’s world, as people struggle to navigate so much uncertainty. “Right now we’re in a pandemic,” says Tong. “I think more than ever, people need something to look forward to. As times change, faith gives you something to rely on, it gives you a sense of responsibility.”

Tong doesn’t know what this upcoming school year holds, but with her faith and a dedicated team of fellow leaders and mentors to help guide her, she feels confident in the journey ahead.

Pivoting During a Pandemic

In early March, Alyssa Nagai was living a good life. The 2015 Chaminade alumna would work her nursing shifts at Maui Memorial Medical Center, and always enjoyed coming home to her little dog who would jump on her as soon as she walked through the door. She loved living on Maui, and it was an easy and short flight to see her family back home in Oahu.

She felt comfortable at her job. Her time at Chaminade had prepared her well, and had given her the skills and knowledge she needed to be successful.

But nothing could have prepared her for what came next.

Alyssa Nagai in her face mask

“The nursing and the schooling part of Chaminade definitely prepared me to be a nurse,” says Nagai. “But I don’t know if anyone was really ready for a pandemic to hit.”

When COVID-19 made its way to the Islands, overnight her days became longer and her job became a lot scarier.

Her hospital floor was quickly turned into a COVID unit, and chaos ensued. Policies and procedures kept changing—no one really knew what to expect or what to do. The disease was still so new and unpredictable. 

“It was really scary,” says Nagai. “I think every day, or sometimes every hour, things were changing when it came to PPE, or just everything. Policies kept changing and it was really frustrating.”

Her unit converted into a closed unit, meaning team members weren’t allowed to come and go from the floor. It also meant nurses were doing total care for their patients, without help from nurse aides and patient care specialists.

It made for really long, emotionally draining days.

“You see what people are going through, and it’s scary on their end too,” says Nagai. “It was hard emotionally, for everyone.”

Alyssa Nagai and her co-workers

It was particularly hard when she saw her coworkers fall ill. “We all kind of saw this coming, we knew that we had the risk of getting sick,” says Nagai. “But it’s scary because you see these people every day and you can’t really help it.”

It was also lonely. For Nagai, the hardest part was staying away from the people she loved and cared about.

“I’d be afraid to hang out with people, and I knew they were afraid to see me too, because no one knew if they had it.”

When she would return home from her shift, she’d immediately shower off and try to stay away from people as much as possible. “I’d try to shower before my little dog would jump on me,” recalls Nagai. “You just feel dirty coming out of there.”

Nagai felt good about what she was doing. She knew she was helping. But she wasn’t sure other people saw it that way. Fears and anxieties were high all around the Island. It didn’t help hearing stories of how people were treating other healthcare professionals, like the story she heard about a nurse who went to the grocery store and had things thrown at her.

Now that COVID numbers have begun to slow down in Hawaii, Nagai’s unit is mostly back to normal. “There are still some changes in place, like the break rooms are different. We can’t be around a bunch of people anymore.”

Nagai has a positive outlook on what the future brings. She’s hopeful there won’t be too much of a second wave, and she’s enjoying the new teamwork and collaboration that has come out of the hospital. Everyone seems to have a new perspective and appreciation for everyone else now.

“When we were doing total care for our patients, I gained a whole new perspective on what nurse aides do,” admits Nagai. “It feels really good to be back to normal (or the “new normal).”

Called Into Darkness

When the coronavirus pandemic hit the mainland U.S. in March, the hospital in El Paso, Texas where Shannon Wright ‘15 worked as a nurse was already experiencing troubles. But when elective procedures were canceled, the hospital began laying people off.

Shannon Wright '15 in her PPE

It was a weird feeling—Wright kept hearing about the nationwide shortage of healthcare professionals elsewhere, but she couldn’t get hours at her hospital.

“At the time, I was working in a facility that just kept calling me off and I wasn’t getting hours,” says Wright. “I kept seeing on the news that everyone needed help, and I kept getting called off. I really wanted to help the people who needed me most.”

So on Saturday, April 4, she hopped on the phone with a FEMA recruiter. They were recruiting healthcare professionals from around the U.S. to help the nation’s hardest-hit city, New York.

“The recruiter said ‘we need you and we need you to get here on Monday if you’re doing it,’” remembers Wright. “It only left me two days to make a decision.”

By April 6, she was on an empty plane to New York City.

Her parents and her boyfriend didn’t want her to go. The disease was so unknown, and stories of medical professionals getting sick and dying were flooding the airwaves.

“Everyone was like, ‘you should just write your will now,’” says Wright. “I was super freaked out signing up, and I cried the whole way to New York. I kept wondering if I was making the wrong decision,” says Wright. She was one of only three people on the flight from Texas to New York. It was an eerie feeling. But she was driven by her desire to serve those who needed her the most.

When she landed at the empty airport, she immediately grabbed a taxi to her hotel in Times Square.

“The cab ride through the city was beautiful—I had never been to New York before,” says the California native. “I started to feel much better. But then we got to Times Square which was completely empty and I got really scared again.”

The hotel was reserved for other FEMA healthcare professionals and there were strict safety restrictions in place. Residents weren’t allowed to socialize or have people in their rooms, and other than a cleaning crew once a week and one person at the front desk, there was no hotel staff. The kitchen was also closed, so Wright used delivery services for most of her meals.

Right away she went to an orientation where she met a few other new arrivals. They formed a text message chain, and throughout their time regularly texted each other to check in on one another.

Wright was assigned to a hospital in the Bronx. Every day, a bus would come to pick up her and the other nurses and drop them off at the hospital.

Her first day was eye-opening, and set the tone for what was to come. She was immediately placed on a team that was tasked with creating a brand new ICU unit.

Shannon Wright '15 in her PPE

“They had an overflow unit connected to their emergency room, so my team and I had to create a coronavirus ICU unit,” describes Wright. “We made a whole ICU unit from scratch within a day.”

They worked quickly to get the extra basement space ready and gather all necessary supplies, but they couldn’t work fast enough. Halfway through the day, before the unit was ready, hospital staff started wheeling in patients. They had run out of room in other parts of the hospital and were desperately trying to find places to put people.

“They were wheeling in patients while we were trying to get set up, and we were realizing things that we didn’t have, all at the same time. Patients were coding on us, and we didn’t have the right supplies.” Wright’s voice goes soft as she describes what it was like to have patients who suddenly couldn’t breathe while she and her colleagues frantically tried to find the right equipment to respond.

Supplies were scarce throughout the city—not just at her hospital. One of her friends worked at a hospital that completely ran out of oxygen, which was in high demand. Sometimes they just couldn’t get what they needed and had to figure out how to make do with what they had. In Wright’s unit, they were putting patients on really old ventilators that should have been retired, because the new ones were already being used.

Personal protective equipment (PPE) also quickly became a scarce commodity.

“At the start, we had amazing PPE and they were letting us change out our N95 respirators every day,” says Wright. “But halfway through the contract, things changed and they were making us reuse N95s and weren’t letting us use hair covers. They wanted us to use the same gown for 5 days. They made a full switch, and all of a sudden we didn’t have what we needed any more.”

It was up to each individual to figure out how to make it work.

Wright had signed a contract to work 12-hour shifts, seven days a week for 21 days. The long days without a break were exhausting.

“The whole time you can’t really breathe, and you can’t really talk,” says Wright. “You have a surgical mask over your N95, and you’re using tape around the edges to seal it off, and you’re breathing in your own CO2 and getting really really bad headaches for 12-hours straight.”

During the days, adrenaline would kick in and Wright was focused on her patients. But at the end of the day, when she’d go back to her quiet hotel room, the fatigue would come crashing down and the anxiety hit hard.

“When I got home every single night I would scrub my body nonstop,” says Wright. “I felt like I was dying, I thought I was dying. I would call my family all the time. I think I was just exhausted and run down.”

The physical exhaustion was real, but it was the emotional drain that was really taking a toll on Wright’s wellbeing.

In the month of April, the death toll in New York was six times higher than its average for that time of year. Wright’s first week at the hospital was the deadliest week on record. News stories of patients being turned away from hospitals, doctors making unthinkable life and death decisions and refrigerated trucks being called in to store bodies shocked households across the nation.

Wright had worked in a level 1 trauma center before but had never seen anything like what she saw in New York.

“I would go to lunch and leave the hospital, and outside I’d see the refrigerated trucks because the morgues were so overwhelmed,” she recalls.

She did her best to be a calming presence for her patients, all the while feeling anything but calm.

“They would wheel a patient in and sometimes they would be really scared,” said Wright. “You’d be talking to them and they’d be fine, and within that same minute all of a sudden you had to intubate them because they couldn’t breathe. And you’re wondering if you’re going to be the last face they see.”

For Wright, the hardest part was watching patients suffer alone, without having their families by their sides. She would try to set up FaceTime calls for her patients so families could see their loved ones.

“Just sitting there knowing these are people, you feel hopeless,” describes Wright, her voice shaking audibly over the phone. “You’re doing everything you can, but you don’t know enough about this disease yet to know if they’re going to come out of it.”

When asked about her mental health, Wright admits it’s taken a toll.

“Chaminade prepared me to be a nurse, but I don’t think anything could have prepared me for seeing that many people die at once,” she says. “You just see people nonstop who were there one second, and alive, and then gone the next. You’re body-bagging so many people who you were just caring for. It’s definitely traumatic.”

But Wright persisted. And when her 21-day contract was over, she agreed to stay another week. Because in between all the darkness, Wright was able to find moments of beauty.

Like when a patient recovered and had their ventilator removed.

“When we extubated a patient, they’d play a fight song over the hospital PA system so everyone knew there was good news, and we would all start crying.”

Her hospital was also one of the first to participate in antibody plasma trials, where patients who were on ventilators received donated plasma from individuals who had already recovered from COVID-19 and had antibodies. She noticed a drastic improvement in the patients who received the trial treatment.

“There were patients who had been on the ventilators for a month and weren’t showing any signs of improvements,” she says. “But then we gave them the blood and within a week everything started to look like it was improving.”

When her time in New York had come to a close, Wright initially struggled to find a flight home—everything was canceled. But she ultimately found an airline who let her fly for free as a first responder. When she got back to El Paso, she booked a vacation rental to quarantine herself for two weeks and recuperate before returning home and seeing her boyfriend.

She had given up her job at the hospital, so after spending some time at home she ventured out to visit her family in California. At the time of her interview in June, she had been with them for three weeks, relaxing and recovering, and making sure they wore their masks.

“I’m more scared of getting coronavirus in public now because I’ve seen how bad it can get—and it wasn’t just elderly people or immunocompromised people. It was healthy, young people.”

While she is no longer afraid of caring for a coronavirus patient, she is much more cautious about being in public. Wright acknowledges that things have gotten better and healthcare professionals have a better idea of what they’re doing now, but the illness is still very unpredictable.

As for her career, she doesn’t know what will come next. She’s slowly starting the job hunt, but she’s also just trying to take time to process everything she felt and witnessed in New York. Part of her wants a slower-paced job now, but long term she knows that she would miss the thrill of the emergency room.

In the meantime, life definitely feels more precious now and she’s just trying to spend time with her family.

“A lot of it was a blur and I have trouble expressing exactly how it was,” shares Wright. “But I am beyond glad that I went. It was one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever had in my life. I met some amazing nurses and people that I will remember for the rest of my life.”