 Aloha. I'm Kayleigh Akina, president of the Grassroot Institute. Last week, the Grassroot Institute released a short video about the large number of locals who were forced by economic considerations to leave Hawaii for the mainland. It was one of our most successful videos to date. It went viral and touched a chord with the large group of expat locals who know exactly what it means to be so far away from home. Today, I'm turning my weekly commentary over to our own expat in residence, Grassroot Policy Director, Malia Blomhill, who works for Grassroot Institute from Washington, D.C. It's not hard to meet someone who's been to Hawaii. I've had enough conversations about people's honeymoons and Maui to last a lifetime. But you endure it for those rare moments when someone throws you a lifeline. No. I'm from Pearl City, Bihui, Hilo, and then the inevitable. We moved out here for my job. We're the Hawaii expats, the ones who bring ponset and help you get a potlucks. The roll our eyes when we hear about how some trendy chef downtown is making upscale span musubian pokey and who, more than anything else, want to come home again. According to the Census Bureau, more families than ever are leaving Hawaii for the mainland. And according to the IRS, most of them are leaving for states with lower tax burdens. Although, technically, most states have lower tax burdens. And that's before we even get into the issue of average salaries. There's no mystery about why we leave home. We have to. We can't afford to do otherwise. The cost of living in Hawaii is prohibitive. Not only do you have to contend with high taxes, but there's also the hidden costs. The way that everything, from milk to filling up your car, it's just a little more expensive. But there's something else going on, and it's something that should worry Hawaii policy makers a whole lot more than it does, is the absence of opportunity. No one wants to leave home, at least not when your home is a paradise, but young people and families are looking at the employment opportunities and economic future and saying, I don't think I can make it here. And watching Hawaii policy in action doesn't give anyone the feeling that things are getting better. Instead, we see huge spending projects like rail, taxes upon taxes, bigger government, more union power, and a complete surrender to the politics of obstruction. The telescope, GMOs, and so on. It doesn't make you hopeful that things are going to change any time soon. So we go where the jobs are, where we can afford a house and nice life, but we're always on the lookout for those reminders at home. We send each other YouTube videos from Mary Mott on our festivals, try and fail to make malasadas and malapua, or maybe that's just me. And when we run into each other, we always have the same conversation. So, do you think you're going back? I want to, someday. Maybe when we're older and the kids are done with school. Yeah, us too. The other day, I spent a full hour on YouTube watching Mayday Gulas from different high schools and thinking about all the things that my kids are missing out on by growing up so far away from Hawaii. I thought about the sense of ohana, the warmth of the aloha spirit, the way the sun looks when it sets over the ocean. I remember the way that Honolulu airport always smells like from areas and airplane fuel, and how you distinguish between dressing and casuals like this. And then I did what I always do. And what thousands of other locals away from home do. I remember the reasons why I can't be back. Not yet anyway. Maybe someday. I'm Malia Hill with the Grassroot Institute, aloha. Thank you, Malia. And I'm hoping Malia can sing, I'll Be Home for Christmas. This is Akina with the Grassroot Institute, aloha.