Women in Men’s Work. Men in Women’s Work.

I’ve been sitting with the idea of making this video for a few years.

After a conversation with Aunty Chelita last week — where we spoke directly about this — she reminded me that in the Māori way, women always speak first.

She said, “The first voice must come from the feminine, because life comes through the womb.”

In the traditional pōwhiri (welcoming ceremony), a woman always calls first. Her voice acts as the bridge between realms, opening a channel of safety and connection between host and visitor. In ceremonial contexts, women hold the spiritual doorway. Men follow.

Both preserve the balance of tapu (sacredness) and noa (everyday), but the feminine initiates the relational opening.

So I sat down and wrote about what I’ve learned from being a woman present and hosting men’s rites of passage, ceremonies, and deep healing work — and also from having men present during the same work I’ve facilitated for women over the past decade.

This video is where I speak it all out.

I touch on:

• Why women are needed in men’s work — and men in women’s

• Why single-gender spaces are just the beginning

• What gets missed when we avoid the other polarity

• What I’ve seen over 10 years of rites of passage

• How women reflect men to themselves in ways men can’t

• How men offer a presence that women deeply need to witness

• What happens in the nervous system when there’s no agenda

• How trust in the other gets restored, and what that changes

• The difference between masculine/feminine and male/female

• Why timing, maturity and right relationship matter

• Examples from Māori, Dagara, Lakota and Greek traditions

• Why avoiding mixed space can reinforce disconnection

• What happens when projection drops and repair begins

• Why I didn’t know this at first — and how I came to learn it

• Why this is my prayer for the work right now
  

Something I didn’t name in the video is the specific function men can hold in support of women’s ceremonial spaces.

In the Māori tradition, the feminine voice opens the ceremony — because life emerges through her. This principle acknowledges that spiritual initiation often begins through the feminine. But there are also roles the masculine holds, particularly in support of women’s work.

These roles may not be central. Men may not enter the ceremonial space itself. But in many traditions, they are positioned at the edge — holding the perimeter, tending the fire, maintaining safety, or preparing the grounds. Their role is not passive or symbolic — it is active, necessary, and tied to the integrity of the work.

In Aboriginal Australian cultures, for example, while men’s and women’s business are strictly separated with clear boundaries, men may take on roles that uphold the space — such as tending sacred land, watching for external interference, or maintaining the conditions needed for the ceremony to unfold safely and properly. These responsibilities are governed by cultural law and carried out with great care.

I touched on this, but it’s so beautiful I wanted to note it again.
There are also traditions that recognise more than two genders — where individuals carry both masculine and feminine energies and are called upon for their unique capacity to hold ceremonial roles that require balance.

• In Bugis culture (South Sulawesi, Indonesia), the Bissu are one of five genders, embodying both masculine and feminine qualities. They serve as ritual specialists and spiritual intermediaries in ceremonies that require the integration of both polarities.

• In many Indigenous North American cultures, Two-Spirit individuals are deeply respected and often serve as healers, ceremonial leaders, and mediators. They are seen as carriers of both masculine and feminine energy, and their presence is considered essential in certain rituals and relational work.

These roles aren’t modern inventions — they are traditional, culturally embedded, and longstanding.

What they share is this: the work is different when they are present — and diminished when they are not.

In the end, this is about relationship and order.

I don’t have all the answers, nor can I begin to fully comprehend the depth and nuance of the cosmic order of Indigenous traditions that I am not a part of. Still, my own experience, which is relatively unique in modern times, feels important to share.

Much love,
Amber