Born and raised in Hawaii, Julian Williams is a semi-pro surfer on the precipice of making history. Now based in Los Angeles, and poised to move up the ranks as Hawaii’s first pro African-American surfer, his skilled ease navigating the ocean’s waves lies in stark contrast to the racial prejudice he confronted to get there – reinforcing the complex ethnic hierarchy that exists in the island state. As the subject of short film MAKAI, director Loris Russier follows Williams’ journey into surfing against Hawaii’s breathtaking natural landscape – and the backdrop of racism that stained his experience growing up.
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PeopleTranscript
00:00I just want to leave a legacy for people that look like me to say, hey, I can do this too.
00:12The ocean is not just for them, it's for all of us.
00:25It actually all started with a phone call.
00:28My dad was trying to phone a friend, dialed the wrong number, and my mom ended up picking
00:33up the call.
00:42They said when I was two days old, my mom took me to the ocean.
00:46My feet touched the vai, the kite, before they even touched land.
01:01Twenty-two years later, here I am, born on the north shore of Oahu.
01:13My dad really wanted me to play basketball, but all my friends were on the water, and
01:19that's where I wanted to be.
01:30I grew up in paradise, but it didn't always feel like that.
01:34It didn't always feel like it.
01:43And I found myself sometimes having to go off the grid to recenter myself.
01:56I wasn't as privileged as some of my peers.
02:00In order for me to show up at the same contests as my friends and even be able to pay the
02:04fees, I had to collect bottles at the beach and get my hands dirty for the shot.
02:16I remember being called things like Blackie Chan, Popolo, or even the N-word, and it was
02:23really confusing to me because some of the other kids calling me that were actually as
02:28dark as me.
02:38But because they weren't actually black, they made me feel like an outcast.
02:58It was hard being fully comfortable with who I was and myself.
03:16I felt alone.
03:31It's interesting, even though my grandmother is one of the last full native Hawaiians,
03:38which makes me a quarter Hawaiian, I'm still perceived to not be enough.
03:48My grandfather was a pastor at the church I went to, and we also live on the church
03:53grounds, so religion played a big part in my life.
04:02But it wasn't until I found Baten's Kaluhio Kaleni when the ocean became my church.
04:32Seeing my reflection on the water, I feel connected to my surroundings.
04:50My mind was more open, and I could process things more clearly.
04:54It was almost more meditative.
05:01It allowed me to reflect on my life and its happenings.
05:05The water sort of became my spiritual guide.
05:11While looking into that reflection, I began to see more for myself than what I was actually
05:17living.
05:35That's why I took the leap.
05:37Sometimes you gotta jump, and build your wings on the way down.
06:05Moving to L.A. led me to new struggles I wasn't expecting.
06:13A faster pace, changing and living arrangements, not having a car, having to ride the bus,
06:19taking the metro, riding the subway.
06:22It's all been a learning curve.
06:26But a voice kept telling me, the light would begin to shine.
06:37Despite the struggle, I've been able to find peace and community in the Ebony Beach Club,
06:43who strives every day to break the stereotype that surfing is just for white people.
06:57It also led me to meet a love I saw myself in, but never knew I needed.
07:13One thing I know for sure, however the way
07:43waves break, my ohana will always keep my head above them.
07:48And for the first time, I feel more pride in being myself, comfortable in my own skin,
07:54and also in my Hawaiian roots.
07:59Now I feel it, the light found me.
08:13Tolerance I never gauged, don't know if I'll ever act my age.
08:38Certain this is not a phase, certain I've been happy in my cage.