From my own culture, the term Takatāpui has been adopted by modern Māori to describe the LGBTQIA+ community. Its roots lie in the ancestral stories of the warrior Tūtānekai, who called his intimate same-sex companion, Tiki, his Takatāpui.
Professor Jioji Ravulo of the University of Sydney, who is of Fijian heritage, has spent much of his academic career exploring the historic fluidity of sexuality and gender in Pacific cultures before colonially-imposed Western standards of morality promoted heteronormative gender roles and binaries.
From Vakasalewalewa from Fiji, Mahū from Hawai’i and Tahiti, Māori Whakawahine and Tangata Ira tane, Niuean Fakafifine, Pinapinaaine from Tuvalu and Kiribati, Samoa’s Fa'afatama and Fa’afafine or Tonga’s Fakaleitī and Fakatangata – these labels expand and provide culturally particular terms for Western ideas about what it means to be queer. Often referred to as a ‘third gender’, more accurately, these examples of Pacific queerness exist on a spectrum of gender and sexuality that exists firmly beyond binaries. While some may also identify as Gay or Transgender, others believe these Western terms to be too limiting to express their whole encompassing gender identity.
The Pasifika diaspora owns these culturally affirming labels and ancestrally approved expressions too; nowhere more fiercely is this evident than in the ballroom scene in so-called ‘Australia’.
Ballroom has always been a space for Queer and Trans BIPOC (Bla(c)k, Indigenous, People Of Colour) expression since its conception from the minds of working class Black and Latino gender and sexually diverse people in 1970s New York. This tradition continues in Oceania, as the Ballroom community thrives under the legacy of Legendary Mother Bhenji Ra, a Filipina fem queen and interdisciplinary artist, who brought Ballroom to Gadigal land through her Sissy Ball. From there, in the Olympics of the Oceanic Ballroom, Blak and Brown queer people across the nation were given a space that allowed them to foster chosen families and compete in pageant-like kiki competitions of dance, fashion, and beauty.
The West Ball, an event highlighting queerness from Western Sydney, was founded by Jamaica Moana – a nonbinary Māori rapper who dominated the MC field in Ballroom down under (who some of you may recognise from her iconic appearance in Season 1, Episode 4 of Netflix’s Heartbreak High). During Sydney WorldPride 2023, trailblazing House Mother Jaycee – who founded the House of Iman – directed Ovah Ovah, an event fronted by Pasifika fem queens or trans women. This event was produced alongside Samoan DJ Rocky Stallone from the House of Silky.
The Godmother of ‘Australian’ Ballroom, Kilia, is a Tongan Leitī who reps the House of Slé.
Meanjin’s own House of Alexander was co-founded by Fa’afafine Ella Ganza alongside Joshua Tailaini, a Bidjara, Kullali, Wakka Wakka First Nations artist. In Naarm, Samoan singer and ‘Baddie Bottom’ Julai has recently founded the House of Diesel.
Across the ditch, Māori-run Te Whare Marama (or the House of Marama) has emerged from founding Mothers Jerome and Karamera.
The Pasifika presence in Ballroom is an act of decolonisation.
Seeing Afro-Pasifika DJ Lady Shaka, who proudly owns her fem queen identity, siva Samoa (Samoan dance) alongside members of the House of Alexander on a random stage in the middle of Oxford Street at WorldPride 2023 opened my eyes to a whole new world narrated by the one and only voice of ‘Australian’ Ballroom, Jamaica Moana.
The scene fulfils a desire amongst the Pacific diaspora to honour the ways of their ancestors and overcome feelings of shame associated with their intersecting cultural, sexual, or gender identities.
To Matt Ham, as a mixed race Māori newcomer to the Ballroom space, community vogue training sessions became a place where their “indigeneity is never questioned.”
To Danae Harris who walked the 2024 Sissy Ball in a floor length gown detailed with Māori kōwhaiwhai patterns, said “the one thing that is shared between Ballroom and Pasifika community is how we hold our mana.” Mana is someone’s power or energy. To all Islanders in Ballroom, queer or not, walking that space acts as a medium to express their innate spirit and cultural identity. Similar sentiments were echoed by Jaycee, who in an interview with the ABC explained that with “Samoa being colonised, religious, and conservative, I felt like Ballroom enabled me to cultivate my power and truly thrive,” as a Fa’afafine.
Jubahlee from the House of Silky highlights the value of Ballroom as a space “created and protected by trans women… for trans women to feel liberated.” She highlighted the dangers queer and trans Pasifika people face in conservative island communities.
Stigmas against the LGBTQIA+ community exist across Oceania. Homosexuality is still illegal in six Pacific Island nations including Samoa and Tonga.
Many Pasifika families hold strong connections to their Christian faiths due to the work of missionaries over the past three centuries. Colonisation from European settlers encouraged Western homophobic and transphobic attitudes amongst Pacific nations, while Christianity continues to be weaponized against Queer people’s identities.
Ballroom is a desire to defy these stigmas. The Pasifika diaspora in Ballroom showcases resilience in deconstructing the discriminatory and colonial mentalities that continue to pervade Pasifika commdunities both in so-called ‘Australia’ and back home. Ballroom in Oceania has developed a space for this decolonised understanding of gender identity to develop further in diasporic communities expressing their own connections to queerness, joy, and identity. It is a space that challenges racism, homophobia, and transphobia all in one flick of a fan – and not necessarily the weaved flax ones islander aunties use at Church.
Identity is powerful. And the intersection of Pacific culture and Queerness in Ballroom is fascinating to watch.
With special thanks to Matt Ham, Danae Harris, and Jubahlee for their words.
References:
https://harpersbazaar.com.au/history-of-ballroom-in-australia/