You feel it every month when the rent goes up. Every time a cousin moves to Las Vegas. Every time you walk past ʻĀʻala Park and wonder if it's safe to let your kids play there anymore.
This isn't just expensive. It's lonely. And it didn't have to be this way.
HD28 deserves a representative who lives here, knows your street by name, and understands that keeping Hawaiʻi for local families isn't a campaign slogan — it's a kuleana.
Tony Nagatani was born and raised right here. He came back. And he's not going anywhere.
I know what it costs to leave. I know what it means to come back.
I grew up in Mānoa. Sang in the Honolulu Boy Choir. Summer nights fishing at Sand Island with my dad. And then I had to go. Not because I wanted to. Because there was no path to stay.
After high school I left for college on the East Coast, and when I graduated there were no jobs in Honolulu that matched what I'd trained for. So I went to Los Angeles, where I built a career as a high-end video editor — cutting television, working long hours in post-production, learning every frame of how a story gets built from raw footage. The work was real and the skills were hard-won. But the city was not home.
The chance of a lifetime came in 2007, when Barack Obama announced he was running for president. I quit my job and signed up. I knocked on doors in states I'd never set foot in, organized in communities I'd never seen, and watched something I still think about: ordinary people doing extraordinary things because they believed the moment was real. That campaign changed my life. And one belief I carried out of it has never left me: when ordinary people show up, things actually change. It also opened a door. Nevada. New Mexico. Texas. Oregon. North Carolina. Washington D.C. Florida. Silicon Valley. Back to Los Angeles again. Two decades away from home, building a career in television and politics — always telling myself it was temporary, always knowing where I belonged.
What did leave me, slowly, was hope that I'd ever get home for good.
Then COVID happened. My editing work went fully remote overnight. And in 2020, I did the thing I'd been waiting two decades to do: I moved back to Honolulu. I met Julia — a Honolulu girl herself, now a theater teacher at Iolani — and we chose to build our lives here. In 2023, we bought our condo at Kukui Plaza and we've been here ever since. We are rooted. We are not leaving.
But here's what I found when I came back, and what I see every single weekend when I knock on the doors of this district: The people I grew up with are gone. Parents whose children FaceTime them from the mainland. Kupuna whose grandkeiki they see once a year. Families who held on for decades and finally couldn't anymore. Renters who got one notice and had nowhere to go. Teachers, nurses, tradespeople — the people who make this community run — being quietly squeezed out, block by block.
That is not a natural disaster. That is a policy failure. And it is fixable.
I'm running because I got lucky. A remote job, the right timing, a stroke of pandemic grace that most of my neighbors never got. That luck is not something I can pay back. But it is something I can spend — by showing up at every door, by bringing your voice to the Capitol, and by doing the work that actually keeps Hawaiʻi for local families.
I didn't run because it was my turn. I ran because this is our home. And our home is worth fighting for.
— Anthony "Tony" Nagatani
Kukui Plaza, Downtown Honolulu
Aging sewers are blocking new housing and flooding neighborhoods. Modern infrastructure is how we unlock affordable homes — and end the cycle of broken ground and broken promises.
Better lighting, cleaner sidewalks, and coordinated services — so families can walk these streets without fear and our keiki can grow up without it.
End no-cause evictions. Bring rent stability. Give working families the security to put down roots and stop doing the math on whether they can afford to stay.
Fix the pipes so projects can move forward. Cut the bottlenecks. Build workforce housing — so the next generation doesn't have to choose between Hawaiʻi and a future.
Restore Sand Island State Park with shade, trees, trails, and fishing access — cultural spaces that belong to the families who live here, not just pass through.
Constituent services that actually work. Small businesses that get real support. A rep who knows your street before asking for your vote.
District 28 represents some of Honolulu's most historic and vibrant neighborhoods:
These neighborhoods have shaped Hawaiʻi's history and continue to shape its future.
Together we can make sure they remain strong, safe, and full of opportunity for the families who call them home.
Modern sewers underground. Affordable housing breaking ground because the infrastructure can finally handle it. Renters with real security — not wondering every month if this is the last one.
Families eating outside on Maunakea after dark. Chinatown theaters full on a Friday night. ʻĀʻala Park where kids actually play. A district where one job is enough to stay.
Chinatown & Downtown — I walk these streets every day. I want theaters full again, restaurants thriving, and families feeling safe after dark. Not because we pushed anyone out, but because we invested in what was already here.
Iwilei & Sand Island — Real green space that belongs to the people who live here. Mauliola restored with shade, trees, fishing spots, and cultural spaces. A park that earns its name.
The Whole District — Safe streets. Stable rents. Homes local families can actually afford. Teachers and nurses who don't have to choose between Hawaiʻi and a future. Kupuna who can stay near their grandkeiki.
Every ʻohana saying: We stayed. Our kids build lives here.
That's a project list. And I know how to run projects.
Tell us what your block needs most. Every submission gets tracked and built into our district priority map. This is how we build the list — together.
Hawaiʻi is worth fighting for — and worth coming home to. But only if we fight for it together. That starts right here, in HD28, one door at a time.