"My uncles, who were part of the Na 'Opio program, held a hula workshop at Kahalu'u Elementary school, and learning hula for hula sake — beyond the pageantry of May Day — was a novel to a third-grader," John remembers. "Greater than that was the fact that my uncles were given significant roles in the hula instruction. Here I saw another side of them, a facet outside of our shared domestic extended-family living. My uncles as instructors changed my perception of who they were in the community, and this reality brought pride to a family of pig farmers on Ka'alaea ridge. I learned hula exceedingly well because it was my uncles who, under the direction of Haunani Kauahi, taught it."

John-John's father wasn't too sure about his boy performing, but his mother became a devoted supporter of the Dropouts. She helped sew costumes for the group.

"I remember oceans of awful printed fabric on our parlor floor to be stitched into costuming," John says. "Often times I would end up wearing large shirts, which the group would attempt to convince me — through my tears — 'how well it fits.' Other times the scraps left over were just enough to make me a sash."

John-John went along on Neighbor Island tours. He performed front-and-center at big Hawaiian music showcases, hotel stages and countless family parties.

"I remember dancing every weekend, oftentimes two performances on the same day on opposite ends of the island. For many of us, going through the Pali and Wilson tunnels were portals away from the mud and the miasma of mosquito punks — the demarcations of our rural lifestyle.We were sort of minor heroes in our community, having gone beyond the confines of the Ko'olaupoko region, returning exhausted but proud."

"But hula wasn't all of what we did. I remember building hale pili somewhere down at Kualoa. I remember harvesting kalo in Ke'anae, Maui. I remember hikes to Ha'iku and other valleys to bathe in mountain pools."

John-John also remembers the older students discussing some tough stuff amongst themselves and with teachers Paul Uyehara and Haunani Kauahi. They talked about things like domestic violence, teen pregnancy and abandonment. It was an intense, supportive program that offered a way for marginalized students to get back to academics, practice life skills and repair their shaky self-confidence.

Many of the Na 'Opio graduates, including all four Tangaro brothers, went on to lead successful lives and become community leaders. They credit Na 'Opio as providing the turning point in their lives.

The littlest Dropout, though he wasn't really a dropout, was changed by Na 'Opio as well.

John-John is now Dr. John Kaipo Frias, Ph.D., instructor at Hawai'i Community College, and the director of UNUKUPUKUPU hula ensemble, the performance entity of the college's 2-year associate's degree in hula. His wife is the highly respected kumu hula and chanter Kekuhi Kanahele, granddaughter of Edith Kanaka'ole.

"The impact that the KEY Project had on me during my early years is still palpable in my profession: hula, community service, positive leadership, responsiveness toward marginalized learners, inclusivity of the family of college learners into the learning."

This past summer, UNUKUPUKUPU performed along with Halau O Kekuhi at the World Sprints Canoe Regatta in Hilo. The youngest member of the college group was the 8-year old grandson of one the students.

The lesson came full-circle.

Uyehara, Kauahi and Thomas Tangaro are planning a reunion of the Dropouts. They've already heard from a number of "long lost" classmates who are excited about the party. Dr. Frias will be there, too, along with his family. And certainly, there will be a lot of hula.