The Resilience of Māhū in Native Hawaiian Culture: A Personal Reflection

In their 2023 dissertation, Māhū and Native Hawaiian Culture: Experiences of Non-Heteronormativity, Rachel Beth Chapman provides a crucial and overdue examination of the experiences of Native Hawaiians who identify as māhū, a traditional and culturally significant gender identity in Hawai‘i. Through qualitative interviews with six māhū individuals, Chapman’s research not only deepens our understanding of māhū identities but also offers culturally grounded recommendations for mental health providers. This work brings to the forefront the impact of colonization, the resilience embedded in Indigenous culture, and the urgent need for affirming clinical practices rooted in cultural competency.

Reclaiming Māhū: Gender Beyond the Binary

Historically, the term māhū refers to individuals in Native Hawaiian culture who embody both masculine and feminine traits. Māhū are not merely understood through a Western lens of being transgender, gay, or queer. Instead, they often occupy a "third gender" role, embodying spiritual, cultural, and communal responsibilities that transcend the gender binary. As Chapman’s participants described, māhū identity includes expressions of gender, sexuality, spirituality, and cultural stewardship.

Importantly, the participants conveyed that the meaning of māhū has shifted over time, particularly under the influence of Western colonization and Christian ideologies. Where māhū were once respected as healers, teachers, and cultural bearers, they now often face discrimination and marginalization, starkly contrasting their historically revered status. This transition parallels broader colonial narratives that have pathologized non-binary and queer Indigenous identities globally.

As someone who understands the cultural erasure that colonial systems impose, I found the participants’ descriptions of culture as an anchor deeply resonant. I identify as a part of the Hawaiian Diaspora, meaning my family is Native Hawaiian, but has been moved off our ‘Aina (land) due to the costs of living. I was born and raised in Michigan, after my grandmother settled here in the hopes of finding more economic success. I have struggled with the pull of being Hawaiian, but so far away from my culture and community. The stories told by participants reminded me that reclamation is not simply about individual pride, it’s about reconnecting with collective histories that were once criminalized or pathologized. Māhū identity, in this context, is not just personal but ancestral, spiritual, and political. There is power in returning to Indigenous frameworks of gender that recognize fluidity not as deviance, but as sacred responsibility. As a queer Native Hawaiian, this journey of understanding the wealth of queer stories that came before me is my kuleana (responsibility).

Anchored in Culture: The Protective Role of Hawaiian Identity

A striking theme in Chapman’s study is the role of Hawaiian culture as an “anchor” for māhū individuals. Participants repeatedly highlighted that their connection to culture, through hula (dance), mele (song), mo‘olelo (storytelling), and ancestral knowledge, helped them navigate the harms of colonialism and the challenges of living as māhū in a contemporary context. For many, cultural immersion was a source of pride and psychological safety that counteracted the stigmatizing effects of Western influence.

One participant, Leilani, noted that culture “keeps us safe,” offering both purpose and grounding in a society that can otherwise be alienating. Others emphasized how community recognition and cultural roles allowed them to thrive. This culturally embedded strength illustrates Indigenous resilience, wherein marginalized people draw from traditional knowledge systems to survive and flourish.

Colonization, Christianity, and the Erosion of Māhū Roles

Colonization, alongside Christianity and Western gender norms, emerged as significant forces reshaping the meanings and experiences of māhū. Participants described how religious teachings often framed their identities as sinful or invalid, contributing to feelings of shame, isolation, or confusion, especially in adolescence.

Despite these external pressures, most participants described a journey from early discomfort to later pride in their identities. This transformation was often facilitated by reclaiming their cultural heritage and witnessing role models in the māhū community who modeled strength and authenticity. For many, healing came not from assimilation into dominant norms, but from reaffirming their ancestral identities.

Sasha Colby, a renowned drag artist and Native Hawaiian trans woman, speaks on the impact of colonization on the māhū community, available in the video here.

Rethinking Therapy: Clinical Recommendations from Māhū Voices

One of the most powerful contributions of Chapman’s work lies in its practical implications for mental health professionals. The māhū participants shared specific recommendations for improving therapeutic relationships, especially when the therapist is White or cisgender.

Key suggestions included:

• Cultivating a therapeutic space that feels personal and relational, rather than clinical and detached.

• Avoiding overly formal or sterile environments in favor of more welcoming, community-based settings.

• Incorporating cultural practices, such as storytelling (mo‘olelo), hula, and chanting (oli), into therapeutic interventions.

• Understanding that māhū individuals often value collective identity and community connection over individualistic models of care.

• Actively working to understand Indigenous worldviews and avoiding placing the burden of cultural education on clients.

Participants emphasized that authenticity and mutual respect are essential for building trust. Therapists must go beyond textbook cultural competence and instead embrace cultural humility, curiosity, and shared humanity.

As someone interested in clinical work, I was especially struck by how māhū participants spoke of therapy needing to feel personal, relational, and grounded in cultural knowledge. Too often, therapy replicates colonial dynamics: clinicians are positioned as experts, and clients are asked to conform to Eurocentric norms of communication and healing. But in Chapman’s work, therapy becomes a mutual process of connection, storytelling, and cultural affirmation. This is the kind of clinical work I want to do: clinical work that listens, adapts, and validates people in the fullness of who they are.

Toward a More Inclusive and Indigenous-Centered Practice

Chapman’s dissertation disrupts narrow, Western-centric views of gender and therapy. By centering māhū voices, Chapman not only documents the harms of colonization but also highlights pathways for healing through cultural reconnection and inclusive clinical care.

For psychologists, educators, and advocates, this work offers a model for conducting research that is collaborative, culturally situated, and healing-focused. It reminds us that Indigenous knowledge systems are not relics of the past but living frameworks that hold keys to wellness, identity, and liberation, particularly for gender-diverse communities.

Key Highlights

• Māhū as a Third Gender: Māhū identity reflects both masculine and feminine elements, often interpreted as a third gender within Native Hawaiian culture, distinct from Western LGBTQ+ categories.

• Gender as a Cultural Role: Māhū were traditionally recognized as spiritual and cultural leaders, with special responsibilities in rituals, healing, and education.

• Colonial Disruption: The imposition of Western, binary gender systems and Christian moral codes led to the devaluation and stigmatization of māhū.

• Culture as Protection: Participants described their Hawaiian cultural heritage as a source of safety, identity, and resilience in the face of discrimination.

• Clinical Implications: Therapists are encouraged to adopt relational, culturally responsive approaches that validate māhū identities, incorporate Indigenous knowledge, and avoid imposing Western norms.

• Intersectionality and Healing: Healing is facilitated by attending to the intersection of gender, culture, spirituality, and community, rather than inaccurately treating gender identity as a pathology.

Closing

Reading this study as a person still exploring their identities as Native Hawaiian and maybe māhū, I’m reminded that these are not just “insights” to borrow, they are lived truths offered with vulnerability. It’s a privilege to witness these narratives, and with that privilege comes kuleana (responsibility): to honor them, not tokenize them; to apply the lessons without appropriating the culture; to amplify rather than replace. As researchers, clinicians, and community members, our role is not to extract, but to listen, learn, and support. I challenge readers of this blog post and the article at large to consider their positionality, power, and privileges, and how they can support those like the māhū and all indigenous people who are fighting for their rights, land, and restoration of their culture.

Chapman’s work is a testament to the power of centering Indigenous voices and provides a valuable roadmap for more culturally anchored and affirming approaches to mental health and gender identity. Chapman’s work doesn’t just tell us what māhū means; it invites us to question how gender, healing, and belonging are shaped by culture.

As I reflect on Chapman’s findings, I’m left with both gratitude and a call to action: to decolonize our language, practices, and hearts; to make room for gendered experiences that defy containment; and to build spaces, clinical and communal, that affirm the full dignity of māhū lives.