by Abby Winterich-Knox
One understudied consequence of colonialism is its effect on Indigenous gender and sexuality. There is vast evidence of third genders and non-heterosexual relationships among Indigenous people before and after colonization, but the framing of these individuals is now often confined through the Western lens (O’Sullivan 2021: 8). Viewing Indigenous experiences of gender and sexuality solely through a Western colonist mindset has impacted the modern understanding of Indigenous Americans and contributed to the erasure of Indigenous culture. The imposition of Western norms on Indigenous people is a continuing effect of colonialism that exists into the present. It is necessary to attempt an understanding of Indigenous knowledge systems outside of the Western lens to reflect a truthful understanding of Indigenous gender and sexuality. Furthermore, the limited Western understanding of the gender binary as male or female could grow from understanding Indigenous perspectives and approaches to gender and sexuality (Hamer and Wong-Kalu 2022: 256). When non-Indigenous people can accept that they can learn and expand their knowledge of gender from Indigenous people, then true decolonization is possible; there must be a joint effort between non-native and Indigenous people.
An important part of studying pre-colonial history is that there is often a lack of primary sources on Indigenous gender structures and experiences (Dozono 2017: 426). This means that it is very important to center contemporary Indigenous scholars and authors in research. A key part of colonization is that Indigenous people are viewed as inferior in the eyes of the white settlers, who justify their actions by stating that they are helping to advance Indigenous civilization (O’Sullivan 2021: 1). Using this as a justification means that colonists can rationalize colonization, including genocide, in an extremely dangerous way. White colonists in the Americas have historically weaponized Indigenous experiences of gender and sexuality. Fox and Wu state that colonists use Indigenous understanding of multiple genders as a reason to see them as inferior (2023: 12). White settlers initiated genocide, land theft, and cultural erasure and used Indigenous gender and sexuality as justifications (Fox and Wu 2023: 12). Morgensen argues that part of this demolition of Indigenous culture was because of the sexualizing mindset that the white colonists had. They viewed Indigenous people as subordinates and people they were able to take advantage of (Morgensen 2012: 4). This is important to articulate, as white settlers assumed that they could push their sexuality on Indigenous people while rejecting the entire systems of Native gender and sexuality structures is a key part of colonizing gender and sexuality. O’Sullivan writes that one of the ways European settlers did this was by enforcing Western family structures on Indigenous peoples (2021: 1). Colonists forced a mimicking of European family structures: a female mother and a male father with a child who is either male or female. The passing down of gender roles from the parent to the child is a necessary part of maintaining the European gender binary and was a direct intention of the colonial project (O’Sullivan 2021:1).
When discussing concepts that can feel intangible, such as decolonization and pre-colonial gender, it is useful to look at case studies of Indigenous people who live outside the Western gender binary. It is important to remember that the Indigenous experience exists outside of contemporary Western ideas of gender and sexuality. One must understand the specific Indigenous knowledge and culture to contextualize how third genders might manifest (Dozono 2017: 444). It is not a concept that can be understood through a European or American lens. Each culture must be examined and analyzed as an independent people with sovereign identities and values, outside of the colonial project (Dozono 2017: 443).
Two specific places to look are the muxes in Mexico (Mirandé 2016: 385) and māhū in Hawaii (Hamer and Wong-Kalu 2022: 262). Muxes are third gender individuals who are a part of the Zapotec culture of Oaxaca, Mexico. They are people who are assigned male at birth, and then act and identify with qualities that are typically associated with femininity or women (Mirandé 2016: 385). An important note here is that muxes do not identify as transgender, which is most likely the category that a Western lens would put them in. There is no desire or intention to change gender identities or become a woman, but instead, they are identified as a gender outside of man or woman (Mirandé 2016: 385). Mirandé writes that it is important to not conflate the muxes’ experiences with LGBTQ+ experiences in Western culture. There needs to be a distinct understanding of Zapotec and muxe culture to contextualize their experiences, as there is simply no equivalent of this third gender category in the Western understanding of gender and sexuality (Mirandé 2016: 385).
A second case study of the māhū in Hawaii is useful when analyzing genders outside of the Western colonist lens. The story of Kapaemahu is about four stones that serve as a tribute to four māhū, who were healers (Hamer and Wong-Kalu 2022: 262). Gender was a very important part of the identity of the māhū, even more so than the healing itself. Māhū individuals are often misrepresented as being intersex; they are third gender, with both masculine and feminine qualities (Hamer and Wong-Kalu 2022: 263). Similar to the muxes, the third gender of māhū typically manifests as individuals who are male-assigned at birth that adopt feminine dress and behaviors (Hamer and Wong-Kalu 2022: 264). As colonization spread through Hawaii, with the annexation in 1898 and becoming a state in 1959, so did the white, colonist heteronormativity. White Americans pushed for a law that became known as Act 175, which made it illegal to dress as “the opposite sex” (Hamer and Wong-Kalu 2022: 264). Under the guise of protecting māhū from facing discrimination, this law allowed arresting and charging these individuals for how they presented their gender. It became so commonplace for people who operated outside of the gender binary to face such strong discrimination that the word māhū itself became a slur and derogatory. As Hamer and Wong-Kalu write, the colonial project was successful in destroying gender and sexuality expression by making it such an impossible environment to exist in safely (2022: 280). Instead of explaining the history of māhū and their significance, colonialism made it dangerous for gender-fluid people to explain anything about their experiences.
Both of these case studies show how important specificity is in studying third genders or gender identities that operate outside of the Western gender binary of male and female. European colonist language does not accurately reflect the gender and sexuality manifestations of other cultures (Fox and Wu 2023: 1). It is useless to apply only European and American understandings of gender to Indigenous peoples, as this is counterproductive in understanding the actual experiences of people. Trying to fit Indigenous gender and sexuality concepts into a Western lens leads to further Indigenous erasure, which is a direct byproduct of colonialism (Morgensen 2012: 10).
Coulthard addresses the problems of dismissing Indigenous cultural specificities in his book, “Red skin, white masks: Rejecting the colonial politics of recognition.” He focuses on the Canadian government’s recognition of First Nation peoples in Canada (2014: 2). Coulthard cites that there have been increases in political recognition of Indigenous cultures and communities all across the world (2014: 2). As recognition increases, it is important to account for how Indigenous groups are being portrayed and protected by the government. For example, he states that past activists and scholars have not recognized how big a role patriarchy plays in the relationship between power and colonialism (2014: 14). Using a feminist approach, Coulthard argues that instead of just political recognition, there needs to be attention on the cultural practices that are specific to Indigenous cultures (2014: 16). Using this lens to address gender and sexuality moving forward can be useful. It is helpful to remember that it is not enough to just address the gender and sexuality diversity among Native people, but instead to maintain the specific culture and language of these individuals and communities. Coulthard’s arguments help contextualize the importance of both government recognition and direct action.
Effects of colonialism are seen everywhere, including in contemporary Indigenous gender and sexuality. The success of the colonial project on diminishing and erasing Indigenous culture has significant consequences for current Indigenous people. Fox and Wu write that in academia, Indigenous studies rarely are viewed as their knowledge system that has effects on other projects (2023: 1). Instead, they are typically grouped with colonial understandings, which is problematic as it erases the nuances and individuality of Indigenous culture. This is a continuation of the colonial project which attempted to erase Indigenous culture and peoples. Confining Indigenous knowledge systems and representation into the Western framework of gender and sexuality is evidence of the continued colonial control (O’Sullivan 2021: 8). The colonist narrative is not an accurate reflection of Indigenous gender and sexuality, but it can shape understandings. O’Sullivan cites museums as an example of this, writing that museums are “spaces that have collected, reduced and displayed our very bodies…where our past and our present are held” (2021: 8). Museums are just one tangible example of the colonial project reflecting gender in an unchanging and fixed way (O’Sullivan 2021: 8). This is important because controlling the narrative equates to controlling the culture’s identity, which is a long-lasting effect of the colonial project.
While Indigenous studies and truthful reflections of Indigenous culture are often left out of academia and modern understanding as a result of the colonial project, it is critical to listen to the Indigenous voices that are explaining how to change the narrative. It is essential to both have a historical understanding of Indigenous gender and sexuality and to account for how a colonist framework continues to erase or control the portrayal of Indigenous gender and sexuality today. A step beyond learning is to examine the intersection of contemporary Indigenous people and LGBTQ+ movements. There is space for inclusivity among the LGBTQ+ movement of Indigenous people without erasing the specific Indigenous experience that might differ from the more accepted, Western LGBTQ+ understandings (Dozono 2017: 428). For example, the concept of “Two-Spirit” was adopted by Indigenous organizers in North America to be inclusive of LGBTQ+ Indigenous individuals, or Indigenous people whose identities do not fall into the linguistic structure of Western gender and sexuality concepts. “Two-Spirit” refers to being of a third gender, and is distinct from LGBTQ+, as it reflects the Indigenous belief systems of spirituality. Individuals who are Two-Spirit are spiritually blessed, as they have both masculine and feminine qualities (Dozono 2017: 440). Because of globalization and the connecting world, it is important to recognize the overlap between Indigenous third genders and non-heteronormative structures and Western, queer individuals and perspectives. One way that these can support each other is by expanding academic research on gender and sexuality to include Indigenous perspectives and knowledge (Fox and Wu 2023: 14). When working to expand academia to be more inclusive, there must be a complete understanding of modern gender and sexuality in specified instead of universal language.
The rise in universally used language and homogeneity is directly linked to globalization, which as McMichael notes, is a very accepted phenomenon of the modern world (2011: 1). There are interesting connections to be made when looking at development and climate change, as McMichael examines, and the impact of colonialism on gender and sexuality. A similarity that can be useful is to look is how Western development negatively impacts Indigenous people. Climate change as a result of development and industrialization has the strongest negative effect on Indigenous populations (McMichael 2011: 3). Furthermore, while the “developed world” has industrialized through deforestation and development that is bad for the environment, it is now these “developed” countries that are telling the rest of the world they should not do the same thing (McMichael 2011: 4). This reminds me of how colonialism created the gender binary and imposed that on Indigenous groups, just as they created development and tried to enforce it. But now as Western norms become more inclusive, they are trying to include Indigenous people in LGBTQ+ spaces, just as they are trying to stop people from harming the environment. The parallel here is that the colonial project created problems that they passed on to Indigenous people, and now are blaming those people for the problems. Globalization runs into problems when it assumes that every culture has the same norms and values, and that is seen in both the experience of gender and development.
When attempting to decolonize gender and separate Indigenous gender and sexuality experiences from the colonial framework, it is important to note that decolonization movements do not only support those who identify among the third genders but support every Indigenous person (Morgensen 2012: 4). It is key to focus on the intentionality of the colonial project. There is a purpose in erasing Indigenous individuality: to diminish their cultural importance. The colonial framework does not recognize Indigenous people as valued communities outside of the purpose that they serve for colonialism (O’Sullivan 2021: 2). It also homogenizes the vast diversity of Indigenous experiences that exist into one, abstract Native portrayal. This is an intentional, colonist push to make Indigenous people all appear as the same (O’Sullivan 2021: 1). It is necessary to point out the limited first-hand evidence of third genders and sexuality representation in Indigenous cultures since this serves as proof not of their nonexistence, but of colonial erasure. When bringing this back to contemporary gender and sexuality, it is necessary to examine how queer discourses often prioritize white progressiveness, and discount the Indigenous experiences that have existed long before current movements (O’Sullivan 2021: 3). There is a reductive narrative that queer Indigenous people followed the lead of white, LGBTQ+ individuals. The rise in LGBTQ+ identifying Indigenous people neither confirms nor disproves the historical and contemporary truthfulness of Indigenous gender and sexuality that falls outside of this Western understanding (O’Sullivan 2021: 1). There is more specificity needed when discussing the intersection of contemporary gender and sexuality experiences and Indigenous knowledge systems.
One helpful place to learn about the contemporary experience of Indigenous gender and sexuality is to analyze specific cases. Mandy Henningham writes an autoethnography about her experience as both queer and Indigenous (2021). She writes that Indigenous individuals who also identify as queer have to balance their cultural traditions with new, Western LGBTQ+ environments (2021: 7). Henningham states that there is power in writing an autoethnography from an Indigenous queer perspective, as this intersection of identities has interesting and unique knowledge to contribute. She writes that both Indigenous populations who have been colonized by white people and queer people who exist in a heteronormative world “are subjugated by the powers of white heteronormativity…this demonstrates the layered complexities of identity multiplicity” (2021: 9). There is extreme nuance in the intersectionality of identity, and in navigating multiple identities that are all affected by a white heteronormative worldview. Henningham compares queerness and her cultural experiences; she writes about how there are similarities in navigating her ethnic traditions and culture while existing in a Western, academic space, and accepting her queer identity as both a product of Western understandings of sexuality and her traditions. There are often misconceptions that come when trying to figure out someone else’s identity, which is an experience of both Indigenous and LGBTQ+ individuals (Henningham 2021: 13). This connection is valuable in understanding both the queer and Indigenous experience today.
Learning from individual experiences such as Henningham’s is valuable in familiarizing oneself with the actual lived experience of existing in the world today as an Indigenous, queer person. It is also helpful, however, to learn from scholars such as Coulthard who can help contextualize what it means to have actualized recognition of Indigenous communities. Having both an overarching and a personal view of the experience of gender and sexuality among Indigenous communities is a necessary step in protecting and validating Indigenous people who exist outside of the Western gender binary and norm.
Works Cited
Coulthard, Glen Sean. “Red skin, white masks: Rejecting the colonial politics of recognition.” Minneapolis: Minnesota (2014): 1-24.
Dozono, Tadashi. “Teaching alternative and indigenous gender systems in world history: A queer approach.” The History Teacher 50, no. 3 (2017): 425-447.
Fox, Michael J., and Haorui Wu. “Terminology and Language Used in Indigenous-Specific
Gender and Sexuality Diversity Studies: A Systematic Review.” Social Sciences 12, no. 3 (2023): 145.
Hamer, Dean, and Hinaleimoana Wong-Kalu. “Kapaemahu: Toward Story Sovereignty of a
Hawaiian Tradition of Healing and Gender Diversity.” The Contemporary Pacific 34, no. 2 (2022): 255-291.
Henningham, Mandy. “Blak, bi+ and borderlands: An autoethnography on multiplicities of
Indigenous queer identities using borderland theory.” Social Inclusion 9, no. 2 (2021): 7-17.
McMichael, Philip. “Development and Social Change.” London: Sage Publications (2011): 112-149.
Mirandé, Alfredo. “Hombres mujeres: An indigenous third gender.” Men and Masculinities 19, no. 4 (2016): 384-409.
Morgensen, Scott Lauria. “Theorising gender, sexuality and settler colonialism: An introduction.” settler colonial studies 2, no. 2 (2012): 2-22.
O’Sullivan, Sandy. “The colonial project of gender (and everything else).” Genealogy 5, no. 3 (2021): 67.