“Many Faces” — Koa Voight Suárez, circa 2009
In November of 2019, in the shock and aftermath of Koa leaving this place for the next, we considered the daunting task of becoming the caretakers of Koa’s amazing life story. Now, we understand that our gift is instead to live her story.
Koa took the warrior aspect of the Hawaiian origin of her name very seriously, and she lived it in her all-in approach to everything from running for school president, to caring for the homeless, to baking a pie. The investment focus and values of the Koa Fund flow from Koa herself. Please help us help youth be valiant. Please join us.
Dean
Koa and I often connected through listening. When she was in control of the radio, it was “Who’s this, Dad? Who’s this?” I usually didn’t fare very well, but was able to get Shawn Mendes, Pink and Bruno Mars right most of the time. When I was master of the dial, it was Michigan Radio, and all of our favorite weekend NPR shows, from Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me, to The Moth, to TED Radio Hour. On countless occasions we sat the in the Jeep laughing, listening, questioning. We taught and learned, in both directions. Then there was “Vinyl with Daddy” on Saturday mornings, so she could hear the tall tales of my youth, and so I could say “Who’s this, Koa?” on those few times on the road when we listened to WRKR instead of WKFR. All of it was about experiencing ideas and creative expressions of others as a vehicle for us to be inspired, and to simply be together. And now, though we can’t sit together and listen to the radio or the turntable, I hear Koa, and I am still learning.
Dean consults with youth development nonprofits: learn more about Dean
Gabriela
Play itself has been Koa’s love language, and in her speaking that language to me...I’ve learned how to really play. As I try the impossible to look forward, I consider - how can I play in this world without my Koa? And one answer I hear is that while she has been my greatest playmate, she has also been my greatest teacher in this regard. She has woven those lessons into the fabric of who I am now. And so I can listen. For the whisperings of her encouragement, her magic, her playful spirit. And allow them to get loud enough to propel me to seek adventure and steep myself in the play rather than run from it because I cannot hold her hand while doing so. I pray that there, I can experience my Koa. I pray that there, I find joy again.
Zaria
Koa and I are ten years apart. But we’ve always been close, weirdly close for being that far apart in age. I remember Lito saying when I’d come home from college how beautiful it is that we just meet right in the middle, we bring out the best and the common ground in each other. Since she was born, being her sister has been my favorite part of me. We’ve always had such freedom in that age doesn’t matter, that we can just be sisters. One of the coolest things about our relationship is that I’m not always the older sister, she’s not always standing behind me. She’s always been so much braver than me. She coaxes me out of my fears, grabs my hand, and skips along out in front of me. She frees me in that way. So thank you Koa, for leading me, for pulling me into your freedom quest. For being my Koa tree with roots deep enough to hold me, a trunk sturdy enough to guide me, and branches stretching far and high enough to teach me and play with me endlessly.
AnneMarie
I’m Koa’s Tia Ana and also, her Other Mother, a name Koa used strategically when she wanted something. When I think of Koa, I think of adventure, bravery, a giant heart, and playfulness. Since the day she was born, Koa has been teaching me about all of these things. And now she teaches me again, this time in my work as the Lead Advocate for the Koa Fund. And for that I am so very grateful.