NASHVILLE, Tenn.—Brynn Lee Hirata, the Youth Leadership Council delegate from Hawaii, spoke on behalf of the NRECA youth organization on Tuesday at PowerXchange.

Hirata, who represented Kaua'i Island Utility Cooperative in Lihue during last year’s Electric Cooperative Youth Tour, was chosen by her peers to be the YLC delegate for her home state.

Earlier this year, a panel of judges selected Hirata as NRECA’s national youth spokesperson.

As the first YLC spokesperson from Hawaii, Hirata “felt a deep sense of gratitude and kuleana [responsibility]. I knew this wasn’t just a personal accomplishment, it was something shared. I was carrying the voices of rural communities, Native Hawaiian values and young leaders of the future. That realization grounded me.”

Hirata is a senior at Waimea High School in Waimea, Kaua'i, where she holds several leadership positions, including battalion commander of the high school’s JROTC program, student body secretary, Hawaii State Student Council Representative and treasurer for the National Honor Society. An aspiring neurologist with a passion for health care for underserved populations, Hirata was selected for the University of Hawaii John A. Burns School of Medicine’s Island Medical Scholars Program.

Read Hirata’s full remarks below, delivered at the second general session of this year's annual gathering:

Aloha!

When you come to Hawaiʻi, there’s a good chance you’ll be welcomed with a lei.

Someone drapes it gently over your shoulders, and in that moment, you feel something more than just flowers.

You feel warmth.

You feel seen.

You feel special.

You feel that you belong.

I remember one of the first times I received a lei from my grandma.

We were standing on her patio at sunset. She lifted up a plumeria lei we made together, soft and dewy from the evening air, and delicately placed it around my neck.

It was cool from her touch, and the smell and sweetness of each flower filled me with warmth and a comforting embrace.

Then she held my shoulders, looked me in the eyes, and said: “Each flower is part of the story.”

Now, at the time, I thought she meant it in the literal sense: after all, 4-year-old me was very verbatim.

But as I grew older, those words my grandma spoke years ago lingered in my heart. Longing for its true meaning.

It was at that moment that I realized she wasn’t just talking about flowers. She was talking about people.

About belonging.

About unity.

Here’s the truth—I didn’t always feel like I belonged in anyone’s story.

For much of my life, I’ve wrestled with the quiet ache of not fitting in.

Growing up, I had moments where inclusion felt natural … but I also had seasons where it felt impossible.

I’ve been in rooms where the jokes didn’t land, where the conversation flowed around me like water I couldn’t quite step into.

Friends I thought would be in my life forever started moving away to places beyond my reach. Others found new crowds, new interests, new hobbies, and I stood from the outside as they laughed together about things I wasn’t a part of.

Sometimes it felt like everyone else had a place where they fit, while I was stuck drifting just close enough to watch the group, but not close enough to feel woven into it.

I often asked myself, “Why can’t I fit in the way everyone else seems to?” People would say, “You’re so unique,” or “You’re so interesting,” and even if they didn’t mean it in a bad way… it still made me wonder if something was wrong with me.

I’ve felt that gap between my life and everyone else’s different experiences, different starting points, different ways of seeing the world.

And when you live in that space for long enough, you start to wonder if you belong in the circle at all.

Like I was a single flower sitting beside the lei.

Beautiful on its own, but not part of anything.

Loneliness begins to whisper things: Maybe people don’t really need you. Maybe you’re not meant to fit anywhere.

But somewhere deep in my memory, I kept hearing my grandma’s voice: “Each flower is part of the story.”

Not some flowers.

Not the ones that match.

Not the ones that are perfect.

Each one.

That idea changed how I saw the lei, and sparked the beginning of understanding inclusion, and myself.

Each lei is made of different flowers. Some are open to welcome others in, and some are closed to represent eternity and unity.

Some flowers are bold, some soft, some bright, some pale.

As they’re woven together, they create something beautiful.

That’s why the Hawaiian lei means so much to me.

Every flower is included. And if even a single flower is missing… you notice. The lei is incomplete.

It reminds me of a familiar saying from my favorite movie, “Lilo and Stitch.”

Chances are, you already know this line. But for those who don’t, it goes like this: “Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.”

For me, that word ʻohana isn’t just something we say in Hawaiʻi, it’s something we live by.

It’s what ties us together, through the joyful moments and the painful ones.

And the more I look at the world today, the more I believe this is what we all need: to see each other as part of the lei. Different, beautiful and essential.

None of us should ever be left behind or forgotten.

Because here’s the reality: We live in a time when it’s so easy to get pulled apart. Whether it's by politics, by geography, by what we believe, by the way we grew up.

But a strong circle isn’t made of identical pieces. It’s made of differences woven together with care.

That’s also the heart of the electric cooperative model.

Co-ops bring people together not because they’re the same, but because they share a goal of powering communities and helping them rise to meet the moment of today’s challenges.

And when I was selected for the NRECA Youth Tour, I got to see that idea in action.

Here I was, a Hawai’i girl travelling 4,882 miles across the Pacific Ocean and the continental U.S., to our nation’s capital.

In Washington D.C., I was surrounded by students from across the country: students who had grown up on farms, suburbs, small towns, in places I had only read about.

We were different in just about every way.

At first, my old fear crept back: What if I don’t belong here either? But something amazing happened.

We asked real questions, shared our stories, and listened to one another. In just one week, we met as strangers, toured as friends and returned as family ... ʻOhana

That trip showed me that leadership isn’t about being the loudest or the most experienced.

It’s about creating room for voices that aren’t always heard, respecting what you don’t yet understand, and learning from it.

Co-ops work because diverse people bring diverse strengths to a shared purpose. That’s what makes our communities stronger.

I would like to thank those who allowed me this opportunity and the experience of a lifetime.

To the NRECA for opening doors for youth across the country, empowering us to learn, grow and connect through service and leadership.

To the Kaua’i Island Utility Cooperative, KIUC Board, and KIUC CEO David Bissel for believing in me and investing in the youth of Kaua’i.

To Aunty Shelley Paik, Aunty Shana Reed, and Cale McCall for their mentorship, encouragement, constant support throughout this journey.

To my fellow delegates of the Youth Leadership Council, for your passion and commitment to being a true leader.

Serving your states and local communities with authenticity and purpose.

To my Youth Tour ‘Ohana, the Hawaii-Kansas delegation for the friendships, laughter, and memories that showed me how powerful unity can be, no matter the difference between us.

To my ‘Ohana in Hawaii: teachers, friends, mentors and my parents, for the constant love, guidance and values that keep me grounded in my roots.

And finally, to my grandma for showing me that every person has a place, and what it means to share the true spirit of aloha.

When I think back to my grandma’s words, “Each flower is part of the story,” I realize I don’t have to change who I am to belong.

I just have to be willing to bring my flower to the lei, to be part of the circle, and to keep it open so others can join.

Just like a lei, we need every flower.

Every voice.

Every story.

Every person.

And the more flowers and people we add, the more beautiful the lei becomes, weaving together people who are different, and treating those differences as the source of our strength.

That’s the challenge I leave with you: Be the person who keeps the circle whole.

Because in the end, the strength of the lei, like the strength of America, doesn’t come from uniformity.

It comes from unity, and every single one of us being included.

So, what story will your flower tell?

Mahalo.