A brother’s tribute to a complicated life

Ruth Holst has always been in motion. As a teenager, she ran cross country with an intensity that outpaced most of her classmates. She won medals and accolades. Yet, her motivation was something harder to define. Running gave her a sense of release, of escape, a way to quiet the restlessness inside.

She was just 13 when she first started running cross country. That same year, she took her first drink.

Now, at 57, Ruth still runs. And she still drinks.

“Ruth is fiercely intelligent, funny and you know when she is in the room,” said her older brother, Mark Holst, a Hawai‘i Island resident who is honoring his sister by naming a scholarship after her at the William S. Richardson School of Law. “She’s my sister, not a statistic to throw away. And her story needs to be told.”

Recognized as one of the nation’s most inclusive and community-centered law schools, the William S. Richardson School of Law provides a rigorous, community-centered legal education rooted in Hawaiʻi’s values of justice and kuleana (responsibility).

“Our special role is we respect people and where they are from,” said Dean Camille Nelson in a video address. “We want you to find your voice in the law.”

Mark is giving voice to Ruth’s story by honoring her journey through the Ulu Lehua Scholars Program and ensuring her legacy inspires future generations of Richardson Law students.

Established in 1974, the Ulu Lehua Scholars Program is the law school’s a manifestation of its commitment to make legal education accessible. 

“We provide students with the ability to become zealous advocates not only in the courtroom, but also throughout the legal profession,” said Troy Andrade, Richardson’s Associate Dean for Academic Affairs and Ulu Lehua Scholars Program Director. “This prepares our graduates to lead, to influence policy and to drive systemic change.”

Camille Nelson and Troy Andrade expressed their gratitude of Mark Holst's gift to the law school.

Ruth’s life has been shaped by contradictions: kinetics and stagnation, strength and vulnerability, love and loss. Her body bears the wear of age and addiction, and her family – especially Mark – has borne the emotional toll. Ruth leans on Mark when she’s spiraling, when the weight of her life feels too heavy. And Mark is always there. He shows up, again and again, pulled by the same unshakeable love that once helped raise his baby sister and whom he now tries to hold steady.

“I don’t want to stop drinking,” Ruth has said bluntly, more than once. It’s a truth that aches and one that forces Mark to walk the razor’s edge between compassion and heartbreak. He doesn’t pretend to have answers. Instead, he’s searching for meaning in her story, trying to find light amid the shadow.

Part of that search led him to create the Ruth Holst Ulu Lehua Scholarship – not to gloss over a difficult life, but as a way to honor its full complexity. To say: Her story matters. Even the parts that never made the holiday letters. 

Ruth’s struggles didn’t start with addiction. They began in the interstices of silence.

Adopted as a baby into a white suburban middle-class family, Ruth grew up with love though not always with understanding. Her world was shaped by good intentions yet lacked the language to address the deeper complexities of identity. At school, she was one of the only Black students – surrounded by white faces, white friends and white culture. Her family embraced her, though conversations about race were absent. Without role models who looked like her or cultural touchstones to guide her, Ruth learned to adapt, constantly adjusting and always navigating spaces that never fully felt her own.

“I felt like I was supposed to fit in,” she said during a Zoom conference call from her Minnesota apartment. “But I never did.”

Her parents did their best with what they knew, unaware of the subtle, accumulating impact of invisibility or what it meant for Ruth to grow up without a community that reflected her experience. So, she forged her own place – through running, humor, toughness, and eventually, through drinking.

Addiction followed her into adulthood, bringing with it health challenges and broken relationships. However, Ruth’s story is more than about pain.

She is the kind of person who surprises people with random acts of kindness. She’s survived more than most people know. And even in the darkest seasons, she’s had moments of clarity – flashes of the person Mark still sees, still believes in.

A Scholarship Rooted in Truth

For Mark, creating a scholarship in Ruth’s name was a way to acknowledge the complexity of her life – the beauty and brilliance alongside the struggle and pain. It’s a tribute to her resilience, her spirit and the battles she continues to face.

The scholarship will support students who, like Ruth, have experienced displacement, identity struggles or systemic barriers. Students who need someone to believe in their potential, even when the world hasn’t made it easy.

“This isn’t simply about remembrance,” Mark said. “It’s about giving meaning to Ruth’s story – and maybe helping someone else find a path through theirs.”

In giving voice to Ruth’s experience, Mark is creating space for lives that don’t fit neat narratives. He’s refusing to let his sister be reduced to her hardest days. Instead, he’s choosing to amplify her impact – quietly, powerfully – through a gesture rooted in love.

Because legacy isn’t measured by flawlessness. It’s shaped by presence. By choosing, again and again, to show up with compassion and with hope, even when it hurts.

Ruth is still running. And through this scholarship, her journey will keep going – not away from the past, but toward a future where others can feel seen, supported and whole.

“I would never in my life ever thought that a scholarship would be named after me,” said Ruth, her eyes welling with tears. “I’m deeply touched and honored that Mark would do this just for me.”