Gender Work Organization - 2022 - Ramirez - Hybrid Gender Colonization The Case of Muxes

Received: 10 May 2021 Revised: 30 September 2021 Accepted: 30 May 2022
DOI: 10.1111/gwao.12884
ORIGINAL ARTICLE
Hybrid gender colonization: The case of muxes
Jacobo Ramirez1 | Ana María Munar2
1
Department of Management, Society and
Communication (MSC), Copenhagen Business Abstract
School (CBS), Frederiksberg, Denmark
This study explores what can be learned from listening to
2
Department of Management, Politics and
and engaging deeply with muxes, the third gender of Mexi-
Philosophy, Copenhagen Business School
(CBS), Frederiksberg, Denmark co's indigenous Zapotec community. We examine indige-
nous peoples' forms of gender organizing, work, and activism
Correspondence
Jacobo Ramirez, Department of Management, through extensive fieldwork in the Isthmus of Tehuantepec
Society and Communication (MSC), in Oaxaca, Mexico and intellectual engagement with schol-
Copenhagen Business School (CBS), Dalgas
Have 15 Office: 2Ø.024, 2000 Frederiksberg, arship on gender, coloniality, and third space theory. The
Denmark. empirical case showcases how muxes organize and defend
Email: jara.msc@cbs.dk
their gender identity vis-à-vis processes of colonization and
hybridity. The findings reveal unique forms of indigenous
knowledges, gender activism, and gender organizing and
are categorized into six themes: language and subjectifica-
tion; work, social structure, and sexuality; religion and myth;
esthetics and beauty; work discrimination and gender-based
violence; and emancipation and queer activism. The analysis
explains the possibility of becoming of different gender/
ethnic identities and multiple hybrid representations of
agency and repression. We critically examine novel insights
on how indigenous gender organizing is paradoxically appre-
ciated and revered while also inciting discrimination and
violence. The empirical findings help us reconsider theoreti-
cal discourses of ongoing (de)coloniality and the third space
of gender organizing.
KEYWORDS
coloniality, gender, hybridity, muxes, third-space
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© 2022 The Authors. Gender, Work & Organization published by John Wiley & Sons Ltd.
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RAMIREZ and MUNAR 1869
1 | INTRODUCTION
The performativity and hybrid practices of muxes [pronounced MOO-shays], the third gender of the Zapotec indig-
enous people at the Isthmus of Tehuantepec in Oaxaca, Mexico, provides a relevant case for studying gender in
indigenous cultures and ways of life (Smith, 2001, 2014; Subero, 2013). To better understand what we can learn
about gender organizing and activism through listening to and deeply engaging with the third gender of an indig-
enous community, we explored how muxes perform their gender identity and organize their gender activism
vis-à-vis processes of (de)colonization. The coloniality of gender is an important area of study as it highlights the
interlinkages between embodied, affective, and linguistic day-to-day practices and sociocultural processes of change
(Lugones, 2007; Quijano, 2000). Thus, it is a door to a broader understanding of how historical macro processes are
lived, organized, and resisted.
We conducted a longitudinal study (2017–2021) employing hybridity as a form of critique and as a lens to study
“difference” (Bhabha, 2015). This approach was used to engage with and give voice to muxes and to explore the
third gender identity that is constructed, organized, and performed at the Isthmus. Our findings reveal novel forms
of indigenous knowledge, gender activism, and gender organizing and are categorized into themes. This research
expands critical analysis of third space and hybridity (Bhabha, 1996, 2015) through the lenses of coloniality of gender
and indigenous knowledge.
2 | THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK
No single theory captures the multifaceted phenomenon of a third gender at the intersection of gender struggles and
(de)colonization. To establish our theoretical structure, we began by interweaving scholarly research on the coloniality
of gender and third space (Bhabha, 1994, 1996, 2015; Lugones, 2007; Smith, 2001).
2.1 | Coloniality of gender and the third space
The existence and honoring of a third gender and queer sexualities was common in precolonial cultures in the
Global South (Allen, 1986; Lugones, 2007; Sigal, 2003). However, European colonizers imposed strict heterosexist
and dichotomous views of gender, sexuality, and nature (Allen, 1986; Lugones, 2007, 2010), thereby institutional-
izing the oppression of gender diversity (Campbell & Green, 1996; Horswell, 2003; Lugones, 2007; Quijano, 2000;
Taylor, 2006). This erasure of indigenous gender organizing (Weerawardhana, 2018) has been termed the “coloniality
of gender” (Lugones, 2007), drawing from the influential concept of the “coloniality of power” introduced by Peruvian
sociologist Quijano (2000), who highlighted how societies continue to structure power in relation to domination,
exploitation, and conflict while social actors fight for control (Quijano, 2000, 2011).
The coloniality of gender is derived from colonizers' reduction of indigenous peoples to “animal” status by forcing
them to engage in sexual activity or harsh labor exploitation that often resulted in death (Lugones, 2007, p. 206).
Today, colonial gender systems are considered to contribute to the continuing violent domination and exploita-
tion of women in the Global South. The coloniality of gender, especially the universalism and essentialism of the
Catholic gender dichotomy of men and women, problematizes the humanistic conception of gender (Lugones, 2010;
Norget, 2007). Heterosexual purity and passivity are crucial characteristics of this dichotomy, which led to the elim-
ination and repression of homosexuals and third-gender people in rituals, decision-making, and economics, often by
violent means (Allen, 1986; Horswell, 2003; Lugones, 2007; Sigal, 2003).
Colonization is closely related to modernization and capitalism, which prioritize specific forms of knowledge and
displace traditional ecological knowledge (Kato, 2006, 2007). Indigenous knowledges—ways of life that have been
followed for centuries—are often depreciated as “primitive,” while Western knowledge is articulated as “scientific”
1870 RAMIREZ and MUNAR
and “superior” (Smith, 2001, p. 170). Therefore, colonization implies a (violent) transformation of societies and ways
of life, a radical disruption of systems of belief, and the imposition of a power structure that “naturalizes” differ-
ent norms of being related to the self, others, and the world. Challenging the legacy of colonization, a range of
perspectives relevant to the rethinking of gender have emerged in the Global South. Independent movements have
contested the intellectual hegemony of the metropole and celebrated local culture and knowledge systems (Banerjee
& Connell, 2018, p. 62). As discussed by Smith (2001, p. 170–171), the role of indigenous people seeking to recon-
struct traditional roles and knowledge is to challenge existing forms of “knowledge” that are primarily ideological or
false.
Indigenous peoples’ ways of life are embedded in an ecology of knowledge, in which each knowledge has its
place, its claim to a cosmology, and its sense as a form of life (Santos, 2011; Visvanathan, 2009). The forced imposi-
tion of Catholic beliefs and rituals and the male/female gender dichotomy evolved through the hybrid behaviors and
rituals of indigenous people. This process gave rise to a third space, a concept that posits the uniqueness of each
person, actor, or context as “hybrid” (Bhabha, 1994).
2.2 | Third space and hybridity
Third space and hybridity are theoretical proposals that resist the belief in essentialized identities. Although these
concepts follow the tendencies of other poststructuralist theories developed in the 1990s, Bhabha's hybridity theory
rejects the cultural universalism/multiculturalism ideology, which he views as the appropriation of diversity by univer-
sal liberalists and capitalism. He denounces how cultural universalism claims to respect difference while focusing on
“the scale of diversity instead of the diversity of scale” (Bhabha, 2015, p. xi). We see this in global gender and sexual
identity movements that claim to liberalize identity while simultaneously claiming cultural supremacy or sovereignty
in a way reminiscent of colonization ideologies.
Hybridization, as a critique of the ideal observer of the multiculturalism ideology, links Bhabha's theory to the
philosophies of standpoint feminism, second wave feminism, and non-Western feminism (Anderson, 2015; Munar
et al., 2017; Narayan, 2004), and their strong critique of objectivism in knowledge and politics. Colonization and
standpoint theory encourage us to be guarded against the naive “presumption of equal respect” or “objectivity” of
gender multiculturalism. Hybrid agencies that appear at the margins of society do not make claims of supremacy
or universality. The enunciation of a hybrid subject cannot be separated from political structural oppression or the
cultural time. As mentioned by Darling-Wolf (2006), using the theoretical construct of hybridity, it is important to
not reduce the analysis to economic consumer power, thereby forgetting other significant divisions, such as race and
gender. In this study, we analyze how hybridity intersects with both gender and colonialism.
The third space enables a resignification of the past—rooted in community, historic memory, and narratives—
born of perspectives from “the outside of the inside” (Bhabha, 1996). Soja (1996) defines the third space as “an-Other
way of understanding and acting to change the spatiality of human life, a distinct mode of critical spatial awareness
that is appropriate to the new scope and significance being brought about in the rebalanced trialectics of spatiality–
historicality–sociality” (p. 57). Soja's comments strongly resemble Bhabha's third space theory, which presents all
forms of culture as constantly undergoing a process of hybridization that displaces the culture's defining histories
and establishes new authority structures and political initiatives (Rutherford, 1990, p. 211). The process of cultural
hybridity generates something new and unfamiliar—a new era of meaning and negotiation.
Third space theory describes how people (un)consciously seek to maintain or change what they perceive as
cultural borders (Shimoni, 2006, p. 217) and how the mind develops by incorporating a community's shared artifacts
(Hatano & Wertsch, 2001). Hybridity entails the interweaving of two processes—practice transformation and cultural
continuity—both of which hold a symbolic and structural reality in which imported practices are shaped by dialec-
tical and complex linkages among identity construction, local power dynamics, and the specific cultural framework
(Bhabha, 1996; Doering & Zhang, 2018). For example, in Mexico, the Virgin Mary is represented by Nuestra Señora de
Guadalupe [Our Lady of Guadalupe]—the vision of an indigenous Mexican woman who appeared in 1531 before Juan
Diego, an Aztec convert to Christianity.
Thus, hybridity characterizes the organization of the lived knowledges of third spaces, intertwining traditional
Western knowledges with indigenous knowledges through practices that include storytelling, performance, and tradi-
tions (Kato, 2006). Hybridity is manifested in the paradoxicality, multiplicity, complexity, and fluidity of gendered ways
of being and knowing, not in an ahistorical or universal way, but through day-to-day agentic practices. Indigenous
gender organizing in hybrid “praxis” is an “interrepresentation of multiple worlds” (Doering & Zhang, 2018, p. 229).
Hybrid forms of social life can emerge through indigenous people's ongoing reflections on, relations to, and coex-
istence with Western norms in the process of organizing their world (e.g., Doering & Zhang, 2018). Hybridity as
an agency refuses the reduction of “us and them” or social antagonism; as an ethics of survival and emancipation,
hybridity is not only a form of self-love but also love of others (Bhabha, 1996, p. 59). This speaks of compassion and
the premise that hybridity provides the space for different possibilities of love and care for others to be examined
and lived.
2.3 | Third gender
Inspired by Butler (1990) and postmodernism, gender organizing has often been studied as the processes of “doing
and undoing gender,” first in relation to the conscious and unconscious norms and practices of gender in society
and increasingly to the fragmentation or ambiguity of identity and self (Blau et al., 2006; Pullen & Knights, 2007).
We aim to contribute to this long tradition of problematizing and deconstructing the organization and construction
of gender (e.g., Harlow & Hearn, 1995) by analyzing how gender organizing takes place when confronted by colo-
nization. Specifically, we use the concept of gender organizing as the relating, enacting, and performing of gender
expression and identity with others, both human and nonhuman, tangible and intangible.
Gender in its broadest conceptualization is a complex and fluid landscape that includes the spectra of sex, sexu-
ality, gender expression, and gender identity. Inspired by poststructuralism, we adopt the conceptualization of gender
as a spectrum (Eger et al., 2021; Gender Spectrum, 2021; Monro, 2005). We also consider the notion of gender fluid-
ity (Borgerson & Rehn, 2004). To effortlessly transition between masculinity and femininity, possibly as a realization
of overlapping characteristics, of possible simultaneous embodiment—these are experiences and ideas that are often
mobilized under the name “gender fluidity” (Borgerson & Rehn, 2004, p. 461).
Anthropologists have traced the acceptance of people of third gender in Mexico to the pre-Columbian era (the
4000-year period before the arrival of European colonizers), noting accounts of cross-dressing Aztec priests and
Mayan gods who were both male and female (Diehl et al., 2017; Mirandé, 2016). In the 1500s, Spanish colonizers
wiped out such tolerant attitudes to gender and sexuality by forcing indigenous peoples to convert to Catholicism
(e.g., Lugones, 2007; Quijano, 2000). However, indigenous third gender identities survived in the Isthmus of Tehuan-
tepec (hereafter “the Isthmus”), where ancient Zapotec traditions and language live on (Synowiec, 2018). Indeed, the
Isthmus is known for being an unabashedly welcoming place for those growing up gay, transsexual, or transgendered;
it is also synonymous with grassroots political struggle (Taylor, 2006).
The Zapotec indigenous people call their third gender by the signifier “muxes.” Muxes are respected and cele-
brated as an integral part of Zapotec culture, centered on femininity and fertility (Plata, 2020). Considered neither
male nor female, muxes occupy a different type of hybrid space—the in-betweens of binary categories (Knights &
Kerfoot, 2004). Similar to hijras of India, muxes have (broadly speaking) a biological male sex, while their gender
identification and expression are feminine; muxes dress and act in ways typically associated with women and femi-
ninity (Diehl et al., 2017). Muxes' gender, sexuality, and ethnicity do not follow culturally dominant “standards” (Diehl
et al., 2017; Gasiorowski, 2018; Mendoza-Álvarez & Espino-Armendáriz, 2018; Mirandé, 2016). The term “muxes” is
neither structured in terms of gender multiculturalism nor does it follow global movements to “universalize diversity,”
including those represented by international LGBTQI + activism or cultures.
3 | RESEARCH CONTEXT
The Isthmus is one of the most important multicultural regions in Mexico. However, it is also one of the poorest and
least educated regions (according to the colonized education system) (INEGI, 2015). In this research, we focus on the
life and experiences of Zapotec gunaa muxes 1 in “Heroica Juchitán de Zaragoza,” the leading municipality at the Isth-
mus. The adjective “heróica” [heroic] references the Zapotecs' renowned rebelliousness and hatred of subjugation.
The Zapotecs have mobilized to preserve their culture since the beginning of European colonialism (e.g., Campbell
& Green, 1996; Ramirez & Böhm, 2021), continuing to resist the hegemony of cultural domination by maintaining
their indigenous traditions, including their language, festivities, clothing, and food. Since the 1970s, the Zapotec
culture of mobilizing for justice has continued through legal instruments that recognize indigenous peoples' social
and economic rights (Campbell & Green, 1996; Ramirez, 2021). The Isthmus is often described as “matriarchal” since
women and muxes rule the public marketplace. While modern-day Mexico embraces a mestizo (Spaniard/American
Indian) identity that coexists with the machismo, hostile sexism, femicide, and homophobia brought by Catholic colo-
nizers, many Zapotecs prefer their indigenous roots (e.g., Flores Martos, 2010).
4 | METHODOLOGY
In this study, we engage with the broad topics of gender organizing and indigenous knowledge (Quijano, 2000;
Smith, 2001, 2014). Studying the complex phenomenon of gender from a global and overall perspective is hubris-
tic and epistemologically flawed owing to the fantasy of aperspectivity 2 (Anderson, 2015); that is, we can never
fully remove the influence of our own backgrounds, biases, and values on our gaze and interpretation of the world.
Instead, we adopt a highly localized and contextual approach to reexamine broader theoretical understandings of
gender organizing and decolonization and a critical methodological approach based on hybridity and feminist epis-
temologies. The theoretical framework involved a dialogical back-and-forth approach among the findings from the
empirical material, fieldwork, and intellectual engagement with scholarship concerning gender, coloniality, and third
space theory (Bhabha, 1994, 2015; Lugones, 2007; Smith, 2001).
This study was a reflexive journey for us as academics because of the epistemological approach adopted and our
positionality and personal history of duality and hybridity. Our hybridity is difficult to explain because of its multi-
dimensional nature. We both live and work in foreign countries, our scholarship is marked by multilingualism, and
our respective identities are linked to indigenous people and colonizers of Latin America and the Caribbean. Jacobo
Ramirez has indigenous parents yet grew up in northern Mexico, away from his indigenous community. Ana María
Munar is Spanish and was raised by a conservative Catholic family, yet her scholarship centers around feminist philos-
ophy and activism. Jacobo's deep research engagement with Zapotec communities on themes related to business
and human rights motivated him to help the Zapotecs following an earthquake in September 2017; upon traveling
to Juchitán, he observed public kitchens organized by the muxe community. This initiative sparked his interest in the
role of muxes in Zapotec society, which is how this study was conceived. The collaboration of authorship of this paper
was born out of queer activism, as we are both engaged with gender/sexuality social movements.
We systematically collected empirical material over 4 years (2017–2021) to explore gender diversity in the Isth-
mus and develop a broad understanding of the role and struggle of muxes within their society. Fieldwork, participant
observations, and semistructured interviews were conducted in Spanish and later translated into English by Jacobo.
To understand the rituals, social and family roles, and challenges of muxes in Juchitán society, he observed the day-to-
day practices of muxe families. Additional observations were performed in marketplaces and at traditional festivals.
During these observations, he engaged in casual conversations and participated in the activities.
Jacobo conducted two field trips to the Isthmus and Mexico City (2017 and 2019) to meet and interact with the
muxe community. Access to the muxe community was achieved through a snowball approach initiated by contacting
members of Jacobo's network during fieldwork in 2017. This fieldwork helped build trust with the muxe community,
which was leveraged to conduct semistructured interviews with Kike, the Head of the Sexual Diversity Directorate at
Juchitán City and a member of the muxe organization “Las Auténticas e Intrepidas Buscadoras del Peligro” [The Authen-
tic and Intrepid Seekers of Danger]. Given the sensitivity of the issues involved, we do not present a full descrip-
tion of the 11 individuals interviewed for this article (see Table 1); we introduce interviewees through examples
from the interviews and present their input in aggregated form. The interviews lasted from 15 minutes to 2 hours.
Given the COVID-19 pandemic, the interviews in 2020 and 2021 were conducted online (e.g., using Google Meet,
WhatsApp, and Zoom), with additional online correspondence. Ramirez obtained verbal consent for fieldwork and
interviews after explaining the purpose of the research to the participants and interviewees and promised them to
present an accurate account of the collected empirical material, to the best of our ability and in good faith. Thus, we
are solely responsible for all interpretations and conclusions in this article. The muxes participating in this research
shared their personal photographs to narrate their customs, traditions, and struggles. They placed particular emphasis
on sharing these pictures with different audiences by allowing us to publish them in this research. 3 Thus, we present
some examples of the pictures shared by the muxes to illustrate our arguments. Through fieldwork in the Isthmus,
Jacobo experienced the gender inclusivity of Zapotec culture, which has been reported in various academic and
nonacademic outlets, such as news reports, documentaries, websites, and films (see Table 2).
The process of data collection was limited by a lack of knowledge of Zapotec, the local indigenous people's
language. Jacobo interviewed senior muxes, who were not proficient in Spanish, with the help of a Spanish-Zapotec
interpreter/translator. Fluent Spanish-speaking muxes participated in online interviews. The inability to conduct
follow-up interviews with senior muxes is a limitation of our study.
TA B L E 1 List of interviewees
Nationality/ Interview Year of

No. Occupation Organization Gender Residence ethnicity format interview
1 Driver Juchitán Male Juchitán Zapotec b Face-to-face 2017, 2019
municipality
2 Merchant Self-employed Male Juchitán Zapotec b Face-to-face 2017
3 Community engagement European wind Female Mexico Mexican Face-to-face 2017
manager firm City
4 Cook Self-employed Muxe a San Mateo Ikoot b Face-to-face 2017
del Mar
5 Embroiderer Self-employed Muxe a San Blas Zapotec b Face-to-face 2017, 2019
6 School teacher Public school Male Huamuchil Zapotec b Face-to-face 2017, 2019
7 Fisherman Self-employed Male San Mateo Ikoot b
Face-to-face 2017, 2019
del Mar
8 Dancer/Performer Self-employed Muxe a Juchitán Zapotec b Online (Google 2020
meet)
9 Head of the Sexual Juchitán Muxe a Juchitán Zapotec b Online 2020, 2021
Diversity Directorate municipality (WhatsApp)
10 Sales Clothes shop Muxe a Juchitán Zapotec b Online 2021
(WhatsApp)
11 Embroiderer Self-employed Muxe a Juchitán Zapotec b Online 2020
(WhatsApp)
Third gender.
a
b
Indigenous Mexicans.
TA B L E 2 Secondary data
Source Volume and details

Reports and other documents ● 50 newspaper articles written in Spanish and
English published in Mexico and the United States.
● 20 short films and documentaries.
● Indigenous people of Oaxaca's websites: Las
Auténticas Intrepidas Buscadoras del Peligro.
4.1 | Analysis
The text analysis program NVivo 11 was used for primary codification and classification of the interview transcripts.
This consisted of 32 codes that were later grouped into analytical themes. These themes appeared in a dialog-
ical way between the narrative, theories, photographs, and previous research on muxes (e.g., Diehl et al., 2017;
Mendoza-Álvarez & Espino-Armendáriz, 2018). We began by analyzing our rich empirical material focusing on the
roles of muxes in a variety of contexts and in relation to the emerging theoretical themes such as resilience, hybridity,
activism, organizing, agency, knowledges, and work. The analysis procedure was reiterative, with three rounds of
discussion. The first round consisted of analyzing the results of primary coding, images collected, and fieldwork expe-
riences. This resulted in an extensive collection of themes (mentioned above), which we then discussed together and
grouped according to their relevance to our research aims. We presented the analytical results of the second round
at two research seminars. The feedback and discussion with our peers helped us select the final themes to present in
this paper. These stages were employed to ensure the rigorousness of our methodology (Alvesson & Deetz, 2020) by
applying triangulation, transparency, and reflexivity when analyzing the empirical material.
5 | ORGANIZING OF INDIGENOUS GENDER HYBRIDITY
Throughout the Spanish conquests, various conflicts, natural disasters such as the September 2017 earthquake, and
pandemics such as HIV/AIDS and, more recently, COVID-19, the Zapotecs and other indigenous peoples at the Isth-
mus have refused to give in to adversity. The muxe community presents a fascinating mode of hybrid organizing and
gender performance vis-á-vis ongoing processes of colonization.
5.1 | Call Me by my name: Language and subjectification
It’s fine when they call me muxe. What makes me sad and angry is when they call me maricón, puto, joto
[fag, fucker]. These names are a denigrative way to refer to us [muxes] as perverts. This I won’t tolerate.
(Interviewee 4)
The first theme that emerged from our research is language and subjectification. As exemplified by the quote at
the beginning of this section, many muxes feel pride when called muxe, and anger when called by pejorative terms.
The word muxe is a Zapotec word derived from the colonial Spanish word “mujer” [woman]. By adopting Spanish
words—where all nouns fall into a binary masculine–feminine genera—into the gender neutral Zapotec language,
the vocabulary acquires definitions that communicate the emotion or experience of the speaker. However, linguistic
differences make it difficult to translate the muxe identity into Spanish, where there is a strong reliance on gender in
structuring even a simple sentence. A muxe commented, “It is a duality to be a muxe. It is likely that often it describes
me as male and other times female” (Interviewee 2). Another explained, “Being a muxe is as natural as being a man or a
woman. I don't know, I have always been a muxe… I'm a muxe because I'm neither a woman nor a man” (Interviewee 5).
These factors mean that most Mexicans from outside the Isthmus generally do not use the word muxe or understand
the muxe identity. Instead, they refer to muxes as homosexual—or often by more pejorative terms. This lack of recog-
nition and exclusion of the indigenous language is unfortunately also experienced by other indigenous communities
(Dorais, 2010).
The coloniality of gender and the exclusion of muxes' modes of knowing and being known continue through
the imposition of gender duality in compulsory education. In the Isthmus, there is no space for teachers to integrate
the muxe gender into the formalized academic curriculum, which is determined centrally by the Mexican Ministry
of Education. However, muxes' mode of being is performed through praxis as a means of creating a hybrid space
that allows other roles and ways of being at the intersections of colonization and standardization. A muxe activist
commented:
Muxe children as young as eleven are already performing the role of muxes. In school, muxe children are
not seen wearing their huipil [the most common garment worn by indigenous women from central Mexico
to Central America]. They learned [that they are muxes] from their parents and uncles; everybody lives with
somebody who is a muxe. (Interviewee 8)
Gender identification bypasses formalized categorical knowing and occurs in the specific sociocultural context
of embodied and relational hybridity. Mothers in the Isthmus are sensitive to children who they recognize or sense as
tending toward muxe, and this early parental identification is further performed and sustained collectively. However,
such processes are not free from conflict, as they occur in (de)colonialized spaces where multiple values often coexist.
There is still discrimination within the family, particularly due to a macho patriarchal hierarchy that often prevents the
acceptance of muxe children. The interviewed muxes described their experience in this way:
My mother, who is my best friend, recognized since I was a little child that I was different [a muxe]. However,
my father never accepted it. (Interviewee 11)
Since I was young, I leaned toward feminine… I was bullied at school and in many conflicts. Now, I work for
public institutions and fight for transparency and inclusion. (Interviewee 9)
In contrast to processes in which gender identity or sexuality is declared by an individual (“coming out” in
LGBTQI+ cultures), muxes' third gender is identified by their parents and social environment. Muxes' cultural sociali-
zation unfolds with mothers in the community teaching these children to address specific tasks and perform specific
roles. This process represents a form of hybridity that both decolonizes gender performativity and challenges multi-
cultural understandings of how gender multiplicity can unfold. Once they reach adulthood, muxes are expected to
play specific roles in society, and there is a structure of respect and recognition related to such roles grounded in
traditional and indigenous knowledge.
The lifelong process of becoming a muxe has a collective dimension. A subject becomes muxe by being accepted
and respected as muxe by the community and family. In contrast, a visiting French anthropologist who sought to
adopt a muxe identity was criticized and rejected by the muxe community (interviews), representing another major
difference from other global-cosmopolitan identities, such as those represented in LGBTQI + movements: the “muxe”
status cannot be freely adopted by an individual as a subjective identity. Similar to other indigenous ways of knowing
and being (Smith, 2001), “I” only becomes real through “we.” Therefore, the signifier “muxes” cannot simply be consid-
ered a possible expression in LGBTQI + space. As Bhabha (2015) mentions, instead of the open-ended “+,” which
represents an ever-expanding scale of diversity, attending to hybrid knowledges helps us rethink the diversity of the
scale and makes us question the very structures and practices that make identity possible. In such a way, the muxe
identity constitutes the diversity of scale and reformulates the conditions for the scale itself. Muxe is a contextual
reminder of critiques of some versions and interpretations of feminist standpoint theory and of the need for academic
communities to engage with indigenous knowledges (Anderson, 2015; Harding et al., 2019).
Gender equity is a necessary political demand. However, such a demand must be contextualized if it is not to
reproduce “the savior” superiority complex, a form of recolonization by other means. The idea of “liberating” the other
without understanding or respecting them follows the logic of gender colonization (Lugones, 2007, 2010) and the
coloniality of power (Quijano, 2011). Muxes have long organized politically and socially to gain respect and empower
their community. A muxe activist offered the following narrative:
Our community formed more than 20 years ago in an association with an extraordinary name: “Las Autén-
ticas e Intrepidas Buscadoras del Peligro” [The Authentic and Intrepid Seekers of Danger]. … Since the
muxes community is respected and appreciated in our city, many politicians appear to use muxes' names in
their election campaigns, and some politicians try to hijack the muxe identity. … Gender equality became
a buzzword, [and some politicians] wanted to take away our name [authentic and intrepid], but thanks to
Diosito [God], we have just legally registered our organization as a civil association to protect our identity.
(Interviewee 9)
5.2 | An identity of care and esthetics: Work, social structure, and sexuality
I guess muxes are so respected because they are more a social gender than a sexual one. They have an
important role in the community. (Interviewee 10)
The second theme that emerged is work, social structure, and sexuality. Gender recedes in importance when
considered through the lens of the indigenous knowledge of the muxe community. As the quote above shows, it
is the social role of muxes as preservers and representatives of culture that differentiates them in the local societal
structure—while gender categorization is present, it is not the most important attribute of their identity. The inter-
viewee emphasized that muxes' importance in society is linked to their social status and competences, not to their
gender characteristics.
The existence of multiple genders does not imply that there are no tasks or role divisions among them. In fact,
gendered divisions of labor are still prevalent in the Isthmus. These gender divisions represent a specific tradition
of gender organizing. Men engage in “male” jobs such as construction, fishing, and agriculture; women engage in
commercial activities; and muxes transmit knowledge and culture through esthetic labor (e.g., Flores Martos, 2010;
Mendoza-Álvarez & Espino-Armendáriz, 2018). Muxes hold predominantly female-dominated occupations, such as
nursing, education, tailoring, or event planning. They make costumes and ornaments for parties, baptisms, commun-
ions, quinceañeras (15th birthday parties), and weddings, which are a large part of the local economy.
Since the time of our ancestors, the work we [muxes] undertake has always been [there] because muxes are
cooks, embroiderers, weavers, adornment creators, and professional makeup beauty stylists. (Interviewee 8)
Muxes are also considered very hardworking, which is highly appreciated among the local community. This form
of diligence, which is considered virtuous, is also a form of organizing.
Work, work, work, always busy… they [customers] come to us [muxes] because they know our goods are
good quality and come with a guarantee. (Interviewee 5)
Muxes are not expected to have long-term relationships or marry, and often stay with their parents in old age. They
often become their family's economic and emotional support because “they are educated to become good workers and
caregivers for their parents” (Interviewee 8). Many muxes perform caregiving duties for their elderly parents, winning
them much social standing and respect. This demonstrates how social roles in the Isthmus extend beyond the gender
dichotomy imposed by European colonizers (e.g., women taking care of the elderly). Furthermore, it presents limi-
tations that can be considered unjust, such as not being allowed to marry or being expected to adopt a specific set
of tasks and professions. Here we identify the paradox and complexity in the determination of muxes' subjective
well-being and ability to flourish, the tensions between tradition and change, collectivity and individualization. At this
point in our enquiry, it is important for us to suspend judgments based on our own expectations of a “fulfilling life”
and simply listen to the muxes' discourse of how respect, action, and responsibility are weaved into their lives and
how they make sense within an indigenous cosmology.
Some of the most moving quotes relate to the ethics of care and benevolence, a characteristic of hybridity as a
form of self-love and love of others (Bhabha, 1996, p. 59)—including others who have been offensive or excluding.
Such ethics of benevolence challenge Western imaginaries of what activism and justice are “supposed” to be. Muxes
aim to be benevolent and behave in good conscience, even when their own family rejects them:
As I was growing up, my father abused me violently and mentally. He declined to believe I was different. He
never told me that he accepted me… that I am a muxe. But the nurses told me that my father spoke well of
me, and that he was proud of me. (Interviewee 11)
5.3 | Hybrid indigenous spirituality: Religion and myth
They say God gave Saint Ferrer a bag of muxes to spread across Mexico and the entire continent. However,
upon arriving in Juchitán, the bag broke, and he spilled them all. (Interviewee 8)
Our fieldwork yielded surprising information regarding the third theme, religion and myth and inclusion. The
interviewed muxes have different views on religion and spirituality. Indigenous knowledge and spirituality manifest as
storytelling (Kato, 2007). As highlighted in the above quote, the legend of Saint Ferrer, the patron saint of Juchitán,
is important in the muxes cosmology. According to this legend, Saint Ferrer traveled around Mexico, giving genders
to newborns, but when he arrived at Juchitán, he gave away three genders instead of two. This mythical legend is
told in the indigenous community as part of the creation of the world. Such myth presents gender multiplicity not as
culturally invented but as something that originated at the beginning of time.
Many muxes also expressed a deep commitment to Christian saints such as Judas Thaddeus and a deep bond
with the priest of the local Catholic church, San Vicente Ferrer Church (see Figure 1). They participate in the liturgical
feasts that follow the Juchitecan festivities known as Las Velas—important celebrations that last all night and are
devoted to a particular saint.
This year, given COVID-19, we won’t have our vela. Normally, we start the celebration with a blessing from
the Catholic priest of Juchitán. The Catholic church in Juchitán has been very open and supportive of our
community. (Interviewee 10)
Juchitan's Catholic church's tolerance of muxes (e.g., Mendoza-Álvarez & Espino-Armendáriz, 2018) extends to
Zapotecs' tradition of and respect for three genders (e.g., Synowiec, 2018) as follows: “God created woman and man,
but he also created human nature” (Flores Martos, 2010). In this case, “nature” is considered more widely than in the
traditional Catholic view.
FIGURE 1 Day of the Dead altar [Colour figure can be viewed at wileyonlinelibrary.com]
While the church in Juchitán is welcoming to muxe communities, this is far from the standard view toward the
third gender or the LGBTQ + community in the rest of Mexico. Additionally, other Christian and Evangelist churches
with an important presence in Juchitán show intolerance of and discrimination toward the muxe community:
Juchitán is full of sinners [muxes] who are degenerated and then we have drunk people. We hope that God
will help them find the right path. (Interviewee 2)
As expressed in Doering and Zhang's (2018) analysis of praxis, muxes' hybrid forms of organizing spirituality and
religious life emerge through indigenous reflections on, relationships to, and coexistence with the colonizer religion.
Hybridity appears and cannot be disconnected from social oppression (Bhabha, 1994, p. 201); cultures of hybridity
such as muxes' religiosity are liminal expressions born in the interlinkages between dominant and colonization organ-
izing of religiosity and indigenous beliefs and spiritual practices. It is in this “hybridity as agency” where the adaptation
of Catholic religious figures and stories into a different imagery of indigenous origins occurs.
5.4 | A journey of admiration: Esthetics and beauty
Pride is a means [for muxes] to maintain their indigenous esthetics, such as the Tehuana dresses [traditional
dresses comprising a velvet top embroidered with bright flowers and a long cotton skirt that extends to the
feet] that are worn daily [by women and muxes] in the Isthmus. (Interviewee 8)
The fourth theme, esthetics and beauty, relates to muxes' strong esthetic identity associated with an important
sense of pride and meaning, as presented in the above quote. Muxes express both pride and regret when describing
how they were not accepted in the traditional velas, where participants wear traditional dress (Figures 2–4), because
the women considered the muxes to be more beautiful and better dressed than themselves. This competition led to
the establishment of the muxes association Las Auténticas e Intrepidas Buscadoras del Peligro (2021) [The Authentic
and Intrepid Seekers of Danger]. This association organized an alternative vela specifically for muxes: a 3-day festival
in November called Vela de las Intrepidas [Vigil of the Intrepids] that celebrates muxes with a parade of floats, street
dancing, and a catwalk coronation in which local muxes show off gowns that they have spent months creating. This
provides an important sense of pride and meaning to the muxes and helps to maintain their indigenous esthetics and
traditions as a form of gender activism and decolonization organizing.
Vela de las Intrepidas receives political recognition and represents the visibility and occupation of a cultural–
social landscape created by and for muxes. This hybrid vela is the opposite of the cultures of silencing or ignorance
that characterizes colonization and illustrates the collective appreciation of muxes' forms of traditional knowledge
(Kato, 2007).
Women in Juchitán recognize that a muxe is the only one who can do something divine and wonderful with
all these extraordinary decorative and embroidering natural gifts, which can only be understood over time.
(Interviewee 6)
FIGURE 2 Tehuana dress [Colour figure can be viewed at wileyonlinelibrary.com]

F I G U R E 3 Tehuana Dress. Picture by Walker (2019). Copyright permission granted from Vogue Mexico for
publication [Colour figure can be viewed at wileyonlinelibrary.com]
5.5 | A journey of exclusion: Work discrimination and gender-based violence
The muxe community has fewer opportunities to study and gain employment… firms don’t want to talk to
us… some have a negative perception [or] say we are perverts… so there is no room for dialogue. (Inter-
viewee 10)
Paradoxically, the admiration and passion that muxes experience within their communities have a dramatic and
violent side. This brings us to the fifth theme: work discrimination and gender-based violence. The above quote exem-
plifies this negative aspect of being muxe. Combined with the agentic dimensions of muxe organizing, prejudice
and negative stereotyping foster gender-based violence. The assassination of muxes illustrates the struggles of the
community. In 2020, Mexico recorded 229 killings of LGBT + people and 5 of muxes (National Observatories of Hate
Crimes Against LGBT People, 2021). The Office of the Special Prosecutor for Hate Crimes and Homophobia was
created in 2014 with the aim of tackling hate crimes and homophobia; however, the narratives collected indicate that
little has changed in terms of preventing hate crimes against muxes. One narrative that stood out to us was the story
of Oscar Carzola. Cazorla fought for muxes' rights for more than 40 years and was the founder of one of the most
important international festivals for sexual diversity. Carzola was assassinated in his own home in February 2019;
his body was found next to a pool of blood. Despite the signs of violence in 2021, the circumstances of the murder
are still unknown. Some of the narratives we collected explained that married men in the community can enter into
romantic or sexual relations with a muxe; however, many of these relations end violently, and in the worst cases, with
murder.
F I G U R E 4 Tehuana Dress. Picture by Walker (2019). Copyright permission granted from Vogue Mexico for
publication [Colour figure can be viewed at wileyonlinelibrary.com]
Corazón [darling], we have reported nearly nine cases of hate crimes, and we have traveled to the city of
Oaxaca [the state capital] to make social appeals and pursue justice because they have perpetrated horrible
crimes. (Interviewee 9)
Muxes report their feelings of impossibility when dealing with abuse and oppression. Muxes that leave the
community (e.g., to live in Mexico City) often return to the Isthmus with sexually transmitted diseases such as AIDS.
This highlights the lack of sexual and health education among the indigenous third gender, both in their communities
and other cities.
A muxe dressed as a woman has two options. The first is to remain in her society and work in these cultur-
ally allocated employments or to be a social warrior, opening spaces that enhance the muxes' lives. The
second, which could be a “puerta falsa” [fake escape, lit. false door], is to move to another city and live with
a masquerade that would be recognized as part of another sexual identification. (Interviewee 1)
Elderly muxes suffer economic discrimination. They cannot maintain the high standards of work expected of
muxes, causing them to lose one of their most important economic activities. Further, inheritance follows a patriarchal
logic and is given to male family members, who also tend to be the breadwinners, while muxes are not considered
heirs to their families' property and savings.
Elderly muxes remain workless as a consequence of the COVID-19 pandemic. I have six instances of elderly
muxes being displaced from their homes as they hamper their families. (Interviewee 9)
Figure 5 illustrates the extreme poverty experienced by the elderly in this community. When afflicted by diseases,
such as diabetes, healthcare and education are limited.
We have instances of compañeras [third age] muxes whose legs have sadly been amputated as a conse-
quence of diabetes. We help them get a position in a fonda [inn]’s cheap restaurant or teach them embroi-
dering in the hope that they [can find] work…cutting vegetables or cooking, empowering them and helping
them see that life is not yet finished. (Interviewee 9)
In general, muxes are accepted by their communities; however, acceptance has its limits. For example, there are
no third-gender public toilets in the community. Occasionally, muxes are forbidden from entering town events or
public bathrooms by members of the public who are unnerved by their gender difference.
5.6 | Adapting modernity to our culture: Emancipation and queer activism
It’s very hard for muxes… Often men just want us for sex while keeping our relationship secret. It [being
muxe] is not accepted everywhere, even in Juchitán. (Interviewee 11)
F I G U R E 5 Elderly muxe who lost their legs due to advanced diabetes and lack of medical treatment. They have
just received a food relief package, which is provided by a charity every second week [Colour figure can be viewed
at wileyonlinelibrary.com]
The final theme that emerged from our research is emancipation and queer activism. In the above quote, a muxe
shares their frustration with their options for romantic and sexual experiences. While there can be respect and appre-
ciation, there are also cases of exclusion and shame, with many relationships with muxes being kept secret. This unfair
situation contributes to muxes' activism. In a society of warriors, muxes are fighters for their body, space, and home.
Muxes' activism and organizing to defend their rights contributed to the establishment of the “Dirección de Diversidad
Sexual” [Sexual Diversity Directorate] in Juchitán. The Directorate's primary goal is to “promote tolerance and nondis-
crimination against individuals, including all sexual orientations, ensuring their integration in society” (Interviewee 9). They
are also trying to tackle the healthcare crisis among muxes.
Currently, we have high rates sexually transmitted diseases, especially syphilis and HIV/AIDS; therefore, we
have implemented rapid test days in upper secondary schools in collaboration with different nongovernmen-
tal organizations. (Interviewee 9)
Zapotec society is inclusive toward people with gendered behaviors that do not fall into heteronormative struc-
tures, which is difficult to find even in more “modern” cities according to Western conceptualizations. A case in point
is the Pride Festival, terms such as gay or homosexual, and same-sex marriage. In 2000, the muxe community was
invited to participate in the Pride Festival in Mexico City, which is a long-standing tradition in Western cultures.
However, the muxe community was perplexed about the need for such a festival when the recognition of nonbinary
sexual identities has always been a part of their culture and traditions. Muxes in Juchitán also rejected the need to
adopt “names” and “fights” that they thought did not represent them, as specific names and rituals have already been
a part of their culture for centuries.
LGBTQI+ is a Western term. We do not agree with this Western way of defining us. Muxe is not a new
phenomenon—we have been living this way for centuries. “Muxe” reflects our role in society, which is not
equivalent to LGBTQI+. (Interviewee 9)
The muxe community is not “invisible; ” instead, their gender organizing is reflexive and politically active. It aims
to achieve recognition of muxes as being capable of carrying out any activity and to secure muxes' survival on their
own terms, while also negotiating and relating to other organizations and forms of global LGBTQI + activism.
It is a privilege for us that eighty percent of people already understand that we are human beings like them,
and that we have fought for our rights. In Juchitán, we’ve managed to survive by adapting modernity to our
culture, not the reverse. (Interviewee 8)
As muxes-trans, we can do more than sew and embroider; we just want to be part of the community. (Inter-
viewee 10)
One of our muxe interviewees is one of three directors who have begun working with muxes in their municipali-
ties. Their first objective is to clarify that members of the muxe community are not “things” or “invisible”; in fact, they
are capable of carrying out any activity that is proposed or demanded of them. Every day, there are struggles with
serving this community, which is an important part of Juchitán's culture.
In addition to media activism to raise awareness of their current situation (Figure 6), the muxe association
provides sexual education and health coverage (e.g., to help with diabetes) to muxes, and a food initiative for the
elderly (Figure 5). Their goal is to create a home for elderly muxes. This specific form of hybrid agency and activism
organizing aims to prevent and alleviate discrimination.
F I G U R E 6 Interview with muxes at the radio station in Juchitán, Oaxaca [Colour figure can be viewed at
wileyonlinelibrary.com]
6 | DISCUSSION
This study's deep engagement with muxes involves a revisiting of the core idea of third space theory (Bhabha, 1994).
We posit that the third space can be conceptualized as a topology of hybridity and understood as a space for enun-
ciation and agency of alterity—that is, of discriminated minorities, where the past and present interlink in the day-to-
day. The space of muxes is not a “different” mixed space born of two essentialized gender identities or signifiers (i.e.,
man/woman), nor is it the “other” of the sexual identity norm (heterosexuality), which only achieves meaning through
differentiation from the norm. Muxes' hybridity is not “one more” of a homogeneous cultural universalism that
co-opts hybridity only to transform it into a new type of global multiculturalism, a form of ahistorical dream of the
ideal observer—the universal liberalism of diversity that rests in a nondifferential concept of universal time. Instead,
the third space of muxes is one of alterity on its own terms rather than being opposition or dialectic (“us and them”);
it is a form of “‘interstitial’ agency that refuses the binary representation of social antagonism” (Bhabha, 1996, p. 58).
Inspired by indigenous peoples' understanding of time–space (Smith, 2001) and the post-structural critique of
all forms of essentialized identities, our study of muxes shows how the third gender is not “the” outsider. Instead, it
is a part of the whole and embedded in the past and present, which challenges dominant binary structures, mean-
ings, and norms, both locally and globally. Therefore, the insights presented in this paper link to theoretical gender
organizing literature that discusses fluidity, fragmentation, and spectrum (Blau et al., 2006; Borgerson & Rehn, 2004;
Eger et al., 2021; Gender Spectrum, 2021; Monro, 2005; Pullen & Knights, 2007). The case of muxes highlights
how the gender dichotomy was imposed on indigenous people by colonialism and how this domination has recently
been combined with globalists' universal multiculturalism. However, this paper also shows how the coloniality of
gender can be challenged (Lugones, 2007). Muxes' gender organizing demonstrates an unusual social dynamic that
has caused a transformation of how gender is lived and manifested through day-to-day practices. It is a case of the
“trialectics of spatiality–historicality–sociality,” which are characteristic of the third space (Soja, 1996, p. 57). The
third space is exposed, such as through the hybrid rituals created by the Catholic Church and muxes (see Figure 1).
In this way, muxes gender organizing is a praxis—as theorized by Doering and Zhang (2018)—that is characterized by
relationality and coexistence with a multiplicity of norms.
We examine how colonial pasts and globalist multicultural homogeneity show no consideration of muxes' agency
nor prior knowledge of the third gender and how both conceptual failures and refusals are closely associated with
discriminatory and disempowering practices that challenge ideals of equality and democracy. The decolonization
of the third gender is another way of envisioning the organizing agency of third spaces and identities—as a form of
“ethics of survival” (Bhabha, 1996, p. 59) and a liminal space of possibility, historic memory, and community in which
binaries and universal multiculturalism are not taken for granted. This decolonizing space is not perfect. As the quotes
by the muxes show, they do not claim that their lives are without injustices or suffering. To be muxe is hybridity—to be
both/and—and to be proud of one's history while fighting its limitations. Hybridity is paradoxical because it exposes
the influence of cultural expectations and categorizations, which have a complicated history that mixes past and
present, colonization and re-colonization, and social struggle. As mentioned by Darling-Wolf (2006, pp. 181–182), we
should remain vigilant of idealizing or romanticizing hybridity. Muxes are pressured to meet social and cultural expec-
tations and economic determinants to be respected and included. This is not a tale of independence and complete
freedom, nor of a closed identity, but a tale of relationality and negotiation of a hybrid identity that is both very old
yet still in the making.
7 | CONCLUSION
Our findings reveal the possibilities of different gender and indigenous identities and their multiple hybrid representa-
tions of agency and repression. Muxes' cultural activities and political engagement represent activism as a form of
indigenous gender organizing. Indigenous knowledges are lived on a day-to-day basis and muxes' continuous fight to
preserve their identity reveals how they cannot be reduced to gender binaries or a multicultural global multiplicity
(Knights & Kerfoot, 2004). Thus, muxes should be recognized as a form of becoming that relies on indigenous knowing
(Smith, 2014). Muxes' gender organizing is not a form of naive nostalgia. They are aware of what is worth preserving in
their lives and what needs to change. Their community is, on the one hand, a hybrid space of tradition that respects
and honors the beauty and uniqueness of muxes' culture and, on the other, a radical social movement advocating
for the basic principles of human rights and the reversal of muxe discrimination. Muxes' indigenous political hybrid
practices remind us of the classical labor or feminist fight for decent living conditions and human rights. While we
remain in awe at the beauty and affirmation of muxes' practices, there is still much to be learned about how activist
organizing can take the forms of forgiveness and love. Are these accounts expressions of respect and strength or
do they suggest submission and interiorized oppression? We are left in this open space of hybridity without clear
answers to these questions and instead with the demand that we listen and portray the muxes' world as a testimony
of difference.
Muxes' third gender falls outside classic dual gender categories and depends on cultural specificity
(Horswell, 2003, p. 27). The existence of a third gender illustrates the shortcomings of the sex and gender bipolarity
that has, until recently, dominated Western popular and scientific thought (Horswell, 2003). Therefore, the consid-
eration of muxes calls for a deeper engagement with the context and uniqueness when analyzing the possibilities of
difference and gender culture.
Muxes illustrate how gender is a social construct and how its diverse expressions are as varied as culture. As
Bhabha mentions, hybridity is a call against essentializing beliefs without falling into liberal universalization ideol-
ogies. The fact that a traditional indigenous community in the Isthmus socially accepts a gender that does not fit
into the heteronormative dichotomy raises doubts regarding the belief that tolerance and acceptance of diversity
are closely associated with modernity and postmodernity. Muxes' resilience for liberation from a European colonial
legacy persists today through hybrid forms of gender and work organization (Bard Wigdor & Artazo, 2017). Hybridity
represents a liminal agentic space that appears only because there is oppression and exclusion. It is born of a complex
interlinkage between indigenous knowledge and violent dichotomous ways of thinking and organizing social life.
Hybridity provides a voice to muxes in society to preserve their gender identity in the ongoing process of colonization.
Hence, hybridity is a form of survival for the muxes as a way of being. Being a muxe is not merely a fashionable pose to
gain political attention or follow global trends.
The emancipatory dimension of muxes' activism is part of a complex decolonization process that invites differ-
ent modes of political responses, which are situationally specific and locally embedded. Muxes' activism teaches us
that well-intentioned ideological global activism might miss this point. For example, muxes refute the need for pride
parades or a change in their identity denomination from muxes to gay or LGBTQI+. Instead, they need material and
structural changes in relation to health and welfare. Indigenous gender cultures are paradoxical and reveal local
appreciation and reverence as well as discrimination and violence. This situation is not separate from processes of
colonization, both historical and current. Muxes have become an embodiment of the fight against, and contradictions
of, colonization in the 21st century and the tensions between preservation and inclusion. For muxes, the question
of being integrated into the community of LGBTQI + activism is not simple; it is closely linked to the possibilities of
caring for their inheritance and identity. Such an example reveals how standard discourses of inclusion might prove
to be exclusionary.
Muxes lead us to question whether gender colonization currently occurs not only through the dominance of
binaries and heterosexuality as norms (although this form of normativity is still prevalent), but also as ideological
dominance about the “right” ways to break the divide or the right “international” way to express gender diversity.
Well-intentioned paternalism by queer cultures of the Global North might result in new forms of silencing and exclu-
sion. Is this dominant approach of viewing at the world of gender not another colonizing worldview? These ideolog-
ical terminological discussions seem to move away from the very real and material problems of indigenous queer
communities, which need real policymaking and resource investment to be addressed. When listening to the joys and
sufferings of muxes, we return to the basics: Where is the right to health and to a decent life? Where is the safety and
possibility of equality in a complex society that claims to respect and honor indigenous ways of life?
ACKNOWLE DGME NTS

The authors are deeply grateful to the muxes who shared their knowledge and culture with us and to the members
of the organization Las Autenticas e Intrepidas Buscadoras del Peligro [The Authentic and Intrepid Seekers of Danger]
for their helpfulness, openness, and support for conducting this research. This article is dedicated to the muxes
who continue to sacrifice their lives for the protection of their gender through their work and organizing activ-
ism. Research happens in the community, and we want to thank our colleagues from the Diversity and Difference
Research Platform at Copenhagen Business School and ETHOS: The Centre for Responsible Enterprise at Bayes
Business School, City, University of London, for providing us with the opportunity to present this paper for the first
time and for their commitment to creating a more inclusive world inside and outside academia. We are particularly
grateful to Claudia Eger for her insightful and helpful comments on early drafts of this paper. We also want to thank
the reviewers for their helpful comments.
DATA AVAI LABI LI TY S TATE M E N T

The data that support the findings of this study are available on request from the corresponding author. The data are
not publicly available due to privacy or ethical restrictions.
O RCID
Jacobo Ramirez https://orcid.org/0000-0002-2479-3266
EN D NOTE S
1
In Zapotec culture, the term muxe encompasses gunaa and nguiiu muxes. Gunaa muxes are assigned male at birth but iden-
tify as women, are sexually or romantically attracted to men, and assume female roles in society. Nguiiu muxes are assigned
female at birth and are sexually or romantically attracted to other women. This research focuses exclusively on gunaa
muxes; therefore, further research on nguiiu muxes is needed to gain a fuller understanding of muxes.
2
Aperspectivity is the belief in the possibility to understand social reality without any preconceptions or biases.
3
Muxes provided the pictures presented in the manuscript and granted permission for their publication. The photos were
shared personally with Jacobo through electronic media along with explicit permission to include them in the article. There
are two images published in Vogue Mexico that were taken by a professional photographer. Copyright permission has been
granted for publication.
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AUT HOR BI OGRAPHI E S
Jacobo Ramirez is an associate professor in Latin American business development at the Department of Manage-
ment, Society, and Communication (MSC) of Copenhagen Business School (CBS) in Denmark. Ramirez's main
research interest is organizational strategy in fragile states and other complex institutional environments facing
security risks, displacement, and social unrest. Ramirez's current research focuses on diversity and inclusion,
business and human rights, and the affect of renewable energy investments on indigenous communities and
ways of life.
Ana María Munar is an associate professor at the Department of Management, Politics, and Philosophy (MPP) of
Copenhagen Business School (CBS) in Denmark. She has written extensively on gender, feminism, tourism, and
philosophical perspectives on diversity and equity. Her book “I am man” is a collection of philosophical reflections
and poems on gender differences. Inspired on psychoanalysis, Ana's latest book is “Desire: Subject, Sexuation
and Love”.
How to cite this article: Ramirez, Jacobo, and Ana María Munar. 2022. “Hybrid Gender Colonization: The
Case of Muxes.” Gender, Work & Organization 29(6): 1868–1889. https://doi.org/10.1111/gwao.12884.

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Received: 10 May 2021 Revised: 30 September 2021 Accepted: 30 May 2022

Hybrid gender colonization: The case of muxes

Jacobo Ramirez1 | Ana María Munar2

1868 Gender Work Organ. 2022;29:1868–1889. wileyonlinelibrary.com/journal/gwao

2.1 | Coloniality of gender and the third space

2.2 | Third space and hybridity

2.3 | Third gender

Nationality/ Interview Year of

Source Volume and details

5 | ORGANIZING OF INDIGENOUS GENDER HYBRIDITY

5.1 | Call Me by my name: Language and subjectification

5.3 | Hybrid indigenous spirituality: Religion and myth

5.4 | A journey of admiration: Esthetics and beauty

FIGURE 2 Tehuana dress [Colour figure can be viewed at wileyonlinelibrary.com]

5.5 | A journey of exclusion: Work discrimination and gender-based violence

5.6 | Adapting modernity to our culture: Emancipation and queer activism

ACKNOWLE DGME NTS

DATA AVAI LABI LI TY S TATE M E N T

AUT HOR BI OGRAPHI E S

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