Hunter Ka’imi is a leader in two communities: the city of Bellingham, and the online following he’s built over six years of posting videos on TikTok.
The latter is more than 10 times the size of Bellingham’s metro population. But for the 26-year-old influencer, online and IRL relationships aren’t mutually exclusive.
“In Bellingham now, when I’m like, ‘Hey, there’s this thing happening downtown, I need people there,’ or, ‘I need people to donate’ … I am so much more assured that my community will follow through with that,” he said, “because it’s been curated for six years.”
Ka’imi is arguably Bellingham’s best-known online personality, with 1.4 million TikTok followers. His videos are often what you’d expect from a Gen Z, left-wing Pacific Northwesterner: unfiltered takes on politics, social commentary and plenty of dry humor. But Ka’imi stands out for his relatability; and, said his fiance, Sara Bourgeau, what you see online is exactly what you get in person.
“It’s very genuine, and I think a lot of people can really tell that, especially in the social media world, where everything just seems so fake,” she said. “ … But for him, he literally will just open up his phone and just hit record and just go for it. No thought is left unsaid.”
Ka’imi’s videos walk a line between catering to global and local audiences. His content creation business, Ka’imi Media, primarily serves clients in Bellingham. In recent years (and especially in light of current politics), Ka’imi also uses his platform for tangible advocacy. He knows he’s uniquely positioned to move young people to action — and where better to start than his own backyard?
“Obviously it’s impossible to keep track of everything, or talk about everything, or fundraise for everything,” he said. “[But if] I get on my platforms and I talk about doing something tangible within Bellingham, that’s a pretty achievable thing; and that feels a lot more gratifying.”
Followers vs. communities
Ka’imi made his first viral video on TikTok in 2019 as a University of Washington student. It featured his dog, Milo, hopping up stairs to the beat of a viral song and accumulated more than 1 million views.
Later, Ka’imi signed up for a communications class analyzing online communities, including Yelp, World of Warcraft, YouTube channels and Subreddits. The course’s final project involved writing a 10-page research paper analyzing a community of students’ choosing. Ka’imi realized his TikTok, then at 13,000 followers, counted as a community, and so he interviewed more than 100 individuals.
Ka’imi’s platform continued to grow after moving to Bellingham in 2021; here, Bourgeau said he “found his people.” For the 26-year-old influencer, online and IRL relationships aren’t mutually exclusive. Most followers share traits with Ka’imi himself — Gen Z, left-leaning, mixed Filipino and/or LGBTQ+ — though he also meets people who fall outside these demographics.
In Ka’imi’s view, two factors differentiate online communities from standard influencer/follower dynamics: interaction and accountability. Bourgeau recalled how, after Ka’imi made a viral video about deleting Meta apps, Ka’imi was offered a substantial sum of money for a brand deal with the very same company.
“He didn’t care how much money they were offering him,” she said. “He was like, ‘I’m not doing that, because that doesn’t align with me. That doesn’t align with what I stand for.’”
‘The number that you have behind your name doesn’t matter’
Ka’imi’s main source of income isn’t brand deals, but managing and/or making social media content for 12 Bellingham businesses. Ever seen videos of WinkWink’s “WinkWink in the Sheets” series (wherein Owner Jenn Mason interviews local figures, literally, in bed), or R.B. Wick’s reels about local scavenger hunts? Ka’imi was behind — and occasionally in front of — the camera.
Ka’imi also helped spread the word about X Tattoo’s flash tattoo fundraiser for Planned Parenthood of Greater Washington and Northern Idaho, which raised more than $48,500 in 2025. Artist Beeker Wagner said Ka’imi broadened X Tattoo’s audience enough that tattoo shops in other regions have contacted X asking for advice in planning similar fundraisers.
“Hunter has been our social media manager for a few years now, and he is basically the town crier for all of our events,” Wagner said. “It’s kind of kismet that it all happened that way, with his reach as an influencer and then his tie to us as a shop, and also his own wanting to be involved in the community.”
After hitting 1 million followers on TikTok, Ka’imi held a fundraiser and raised about $2,000 for the local housing nonprofit Lydia Place. Most recently, he raised $50,000 for families affected by the Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids at Mount Baker Roofing, even making a follow-up reel with the executive director of the Bellingham Schools Foundation to discuss the donation’s real-world impact.
While Ka’imi posts local calls to action on Instagram, TikTok is often reserved for general content. He’s used the latter platform like a diary, posting “literally whatever is on my mind.” By contrast, Ka’imi’s Instagram audience is smaller — about 260,000 followers — though he finds it easier to turn views and follows into real-life follow-through.
But in judging his impact, “the number that you have behind your name doesn’t matter”: True influencers prompt people to take action, not just splurge on clothing or skincare routines. Being upfront about social issues might not lead to brand deals, but it does result in viewers’ trust.
“I’ve built my career and page around sharing what I think, and not really tiptoeing around a lot of those thoughts and opinions,” he said. “I think a lot of people share those beliefs, but can’t necessarily outwardly say it because of the line of work that they’re in, or their social circles, or where they live … I think that’s also been a really beautiful privilege, [and] something that I don’t take for granted.”
Building community offline
Ka’imi is equally honest about his own life and identity. He speaks about growing up in a mixed Filipino household and even documented his process of coming out as pansexual, “to the point where I came out to hundreds of thousands of people before I came out to my family.” The latter endeavor prompted messages from strangers whom Ka’imi inspired to come out to their own loved ones.
Of course, transparency has its downsides. Ka’imi said there’s “this pressure to be kind of performing all the time. Some interactions with followers border on being too familiar, like the time a fan approached him at Value Village after his grandparent died. Then there are the safety concerns; because what happens on TikTok doesn’t always stay there.
“I think that’s been the biggest change in the past couple years,” he said. In the past, major events felt more like: “‘Oh, this was just online. This is just scary on our phone.’ Now it’s ‘[scary] at your door.’”
Ka’imi knows his advocacy could make him a target, but he’s not afraid of losing business over politics. Rather, Ka’imi’s values are often why clients work with him in the first place — and he views escalating division as all the more reason to use his voice.
“There are horrific things happening, not just in this country, but again, outside of your house,” he said. “People for a long time have felt the comfort and safety of being behind their screen. And now that they don’t, I’m really hoping that does push for a much larger motivation to get out and be a part of your community and stand up for your neighbors.”
In 2026, Ka’imi’s goal is to organize more community meetups in Bellingham. He’s well aware of the downsides to online-only spaces: Thanks to the pandemic, Ka’imi left college with very few real-life friends. He moved to Bellingham in 2021 to build support systems beyond a screen. Now, Ka’imi wants to help others do the same.
“We’re in a day and age where we’re so connected with the world, but so disconnected with our neighbors, that it’s really harmful,” he said. “ … It’s really easy for people to be like, ‘Oh, I’m gonna stand up to my government,’ or whatever — but if you can’t knock on your neighbor’s door and introduce yourself, that’s a problem.”
Cocoa Laney is CDN’s lifestyle editor; reach her at cocoalaney@cascadiadaily.com; 360-922-3090 ext. 128.
