The experiences of non-indigenous ethnic minority psychotherapists residing and practicing in Aotearoa New Zealand

Culture shock and overwhelm

Some participants reflected that their initial engagement with mainstream Aotearoa New Zealand culture was largely pleasant, while the initial process of adjustment was experienced as being simultaneously disorienting and freeing. One participant recounted that coming to grips with the differences in cultural environments elicited a sense of excitement and freedom in the potential to be a different person:

I felt like I was a total different person in a way to how I was back home. It was also in a small community but very kind of narrow-minded conservative environment that I grew up in and somehow I found New Zealand … was so much different and I could also just be different and I was flourishing in that for a while.

However, the initial sense of novelty and freedom that is associated with the dominant culture (i.e., the newness of New Zealand, and the freedom from what is viewed as the Old World) seemed to dissipate as participants encountered the realities of adapting to a different cultural setting, as one participant commented: “immigration for me is full of surprises that are really hidden in the culture”.

Participants’ descriptions reflected a sense of disconnection and alienation in their attempts to engage with mainstream culture, owing to cultural attitudes and ways of relating that seemed to prevent authentic and meaningful interpersonal connection. Whilst this is recognisable as a transversal experience of emigration/immigration, it was also viewed as specific to the dominant culture. Identifiable in their accounts were two main attitudes or ways of relating which were experienced as barriers to connection. One can be defined as a perceived lack of emotional openness as explained by this participant:

So, the first contact is people are very, ah, welcoming, talking to you easily but in fact to go further, to get to know them further, it’s very difficult, it’s not that it’s difficult, it doesn’t happen. If you, yeah it doesn’t happen and even when it happens, the level at which people connect for me is very different from what I’m used to. So people don’t easily speak about their issues… yeah they don’t, they don’t speak about things that are not going well, it’s always the bright side, the bright façade that they show.

The second attitudinal barrier, experienced as disconnecting and alienating, was the perceived lack of awareness and responsiveness to cultural differences:

It was really hard to find your own footing here for a number of reasons… people don’t understand you, don’t understand the food you eat, and so there’s lots of um, what’s the word for it, it’s not racism but um, their lack of understanding, people’s lack of knowledge that other people do things differently you know, and having to battle that was quite difficult.

As a continuous and dynamic process, acculturating often produces a sense of overwhelm, as described by the following participant, “A lot of people tell me that I should write, and I’m going to write, but it’s ah, it’s overwhelming for me because I’m overwhelmed by so many impressions, and I’m thinking all the time which is very tiring”. The overwhelm made this participant ponder: “Very often I think am I right to be critical? What am I doing? Am I becoming a grumpy person who is not happy with anything?”

Culture shock and overwhelm dominated participants’ experience of adjusting to mainstream Aotearoa New Zealand culture, which included a sense of both disorientation and freedom during initial contact, followed by a sense of disconnection and alienation as they attempted to adapt to and make sense of a myriad of novel and often unfamiliar cultural stimuli.

Lack of fit within Pākehā culture

Whilst the findings presented in this section overlap with those presented above, they describe more specifically the challenges of reconciling different cultural value systems, and finding a sense of belonging within the dominant Pākehā culture.

Participants’ accounts reflected two components to this struggle: the first, voiced predominantly by the two non-European participants, was the challenge of reconciling conflicting cultural values and norms between their culture of origin and the more westernized, individualistically-oriented Pākehā culture. The second was the experience of feeling other in relation to the dominant Pākehā group, which was a theme that came through in the accounts of all four participants.

One of the two non-European participants explained the conflict in cultural values and norms between her home culture and Pākehā culture: “We have in our system a patriarchy, a hierarchy and we are very directive and prescriptive, whereas the Western world is very self-exploratory, autonomy etc., so not many of us have combined the two healthily”. She continued, “[People of my culture] struggle through their studies because we have a different value system; if somebody dies [or] there’s a baptism, they leave their study”. The other non-European participant similarly explained the challenges inherent in navigating conflicting cultural landscapes within a dominant cultural setting, and feeling pressured to assimilate:

Our traditions are far, far different from the white people, the white Kiwis that are here… we get pushed aside into that category and in that we don’t have a footing, we get lost, or we need to comply with what the [New Zealand] Europeans do to have a footing.

This same participant also gave voice to the second phenomenon, the experience of feeling different, and the difficulty finding a sense of ‘fit’ within the dominant cultural group: “Within that [Pākehā] group we are seen as aliens as well, because we don’t identify with Pākehā, um the white Europeans”.

The two European participants did not speak directly about conflicting cultural values, nevertheless, their narratives illuminated instances of feeling “foreign”, or feeling like “a stranger” and hence feeling different and ‘other’ to Pākehā. One therapist reflected on how her accented English may give rise to the construction of otherness, particularly in clients: “oh gosh she’s got an accent, she won’t understand what it’s like to be Kiwi, and then how do I work with that”.

The second participant reflected that she had experienced greater culture shock in relation to Pākehā culture than Māori culture:

I knew [Māori culture] would be a different culture from mine, but in fact the shock for me, the cultural shock is much, much stronger with Pākehā culture... I knew there would be differences because I had come here [visited New Zealand], but I hadn’t lived here, and it [Pākehā culture] feels quite different.

In summary, the current sub theme captured themes identified in participants’ accounts which more specifically related to their experience of feeling ‘other’ and not fitting in within the dominant Pākehā group. For the two non-European participants, this experience was underscored by significant challenges in reconciling and integrating conflicting cultural values systems between their culture of origin and Pākehā culture.

Identification with and support for Māori cultural experience

Participants’ descriptions contained many accounts of relating to and identifying with indigenous Māori, and their cultural experiences. For the two non-European participants, whose cultures of origin are fundamentally collectivist in orientation, this sense of identification was embedded in the many broad cultural similarities they shared with Māori culture. In particular, the Pacific Island participant made reference to both visible similarities and common ancestral roots, indicating that affiliation with Māori culture is almost a given for a person of her ethnic origin; “I look Māori … I am Pacific Polynesian which Māori are also… we are sort of in the same boat as Māori indigenous people.” The South Asian therapist similarly expressed affiliation with Māori culture:

I feel like we just connect on so many different levels, you know in the sense of the way we treat our elders, the way we look at family. I think family is a huge aspect of our cultures, and the way we go about managing our mistakes or managing things that are not right in our lives, we do it in a community rather than individualistic base.

All four participants spoke of feeling grief for the indigenous experience of colonisation in Aotearoa New Zealand; feelings coloured by their own cultural experiences related to colonisation. For one therapist, being from a culture that had experienced British colonisation for a significant period, was an important factor in identifying more with Māori than Pākehā culture, “I am more likely to identify with Māori than with Pākehā, mainly because we were colonised too back in [home country], and we lost family, if you go back in our lineage.” Another participant commented:

I heard Māori speak about the shame in being Māori and how difficult it was to retrieve the language after what has been happening and what’s been taken from them, and I just found myself feeling the grief of that and crying and feeling and identifying with that experience of feeling ashamed, and then at the same time I could feel the guilt of what has been done to them, of being the one who takes something away from the other, and that had more to do with my culture.

In general, participants’ encounters with indigenous Māori culture triggered feelings of identification, connection, and support for Māori cultural experience, grounded in their own cultural experiences and histories.

Emotionally significant experiences of engaging with tikanga Māori

Participants’ experiences of tikanga Māori; that is, the customary system of values and practices that have developed over time and are deeply embedded in the social context (Moorfield, n.d.), were emotionally significant and led to meaningful cultural engagement and understanding. Participants indicated that the experience of being welcomed on a marae (traditional meeting place where formal greetings and discussions take place), particularly for the first time, was a significant, emotionally moving experience; one that, in many ways, set the foundation for continued engagement with indigenous culture. One participant recounted her first pōwhiri (welcome ceremony) experience as the first time she really felt she made contact with Māori people and culture; “for me what put me in contact with [Māori culture] was the first time I was welcomed at a marae, for me the experience…was extremely moving, extremely, I was close to tears very often”.

The customary processes seemed to make space for participants to connect with their own genealogy and heritage, as one participant noted; “it’s not a formal introduction, it’s a very personal introduction. It made me realise it’s important to say where I am from, because it tells them that I come to meet them from that place.” Another participant explained that visiting the marae was an invaluable and authentic learning experience, particularly given that meaningful contact with Māori culture was not readily available in the mainstream:

I found it very difficult to get in touch with Māori culture, and I think reading about the culture in books yeah you learn things… but telling me, you could tell me 10 times it's important to introduce yourself, until I met with Māori people and saw how they were introducing themselves to me.

Other experiences of engaging with tikanga Māori that enhanced cultural learning and engagement included rehearsing waiata (song) with a group of mainly Māori psychotherapists which, for this participant, was a poignant moment of connection and “an important step” in her integration to Aotearoa New Zealand:

They just, didn’t care that I don’t know the waiata, that I didn’t know what the words meant, they took me in it and I just sang with them and it was like a warm envelope and people taking me with them, it was the first time I felt it.

These accounts indicate that when participants came into contact with Māori culture within the indigenous context (at the Marae, singing Waiata), they felt able to embrace their own cultural heritage and ancestry, and felt ‘met’ without feeling different or other. The experience was one of meaningful connection, rather than disconnection and alienation which pervaded their early engagement with dominant Pākehā culture.

Professional (therapeutic) engagement with Māori clients and cultural services

Whilst findings presented in this section overlap with those described above, they describe more specifically, participants’ experiences of engaging with Māori clients and cultural supervisors or advisors. Hence, these findings have important implications for the development of clinical knowledge and understanding relating to cross-cultural therapeutic engagement, and broader implications for understanding cultural relations between indigenous and immigrant communities in Aotearoa New Zealand. Participants in this study described both positive and challenging engagements with Māori clients and culturaladvisors. Regardless of the nature of the experience, overwhelmingly participants felt they offered valuable learning.

Positive experiences of working with Māori occurred when participants felt supported and resourced, thus leading to positive therapeutic engagement. For one therapist who identified as non-European, positive therapeutic engagement stemmed from feeling internally resourced to engage with indigenous clients. This participant reflected that his recognition and acknowledgment of the indigenous clients’ collective identity often aided in generating positive relations with whānau (family):

The way we go about managing our mistakes or managing things that are not right in our lives, we do it from a community rather than an individualistic base, so in that part I get it, because I can always get family members of [Māori] clients to support them through the treatment… the other thing is, when I’m working with a [Māori] client I’m not just working with him… he’s representation of a family, an iwi [tribe], he brings an identity.

Participants also felt internally resourced in terms of their training, skills and experience which, as one therapist described, was about “connecting with people and understanding how they feel”. They also reflected that the Noho Marae experience and encounters with tikanga Māori (described in the previous section) were invaluable in providing a foundation for culturally appropriate engagement with Māori clients and their whanau. Two therapists had access through their respective employers to cultural supervision and support via a Māori agency, which they had found helpful to different degrees. One participant explained that she had also benefitted from cultural trainings offered by her employer which “provided cultural information, and things I wouldn’t have thought of if no one had told me.”

In contrast, participants also had engagements with Māori clients that felt challenging, and interactions with Māori cultural advisors which left them feelingunseen and unsupported. Participants’ accounts reflected that the challenges encountered in therapy stemmed from uneasy transference/countertransference reactions.

One therapist reflected that difficulties arise when indigenous clients perceive the immigrant therapist as invading their place in society, and consequently displacing them; “Clients see me as an invader, just like Europeans but probably worse that I’ve come later on and taken their work, and their place in society and are now telling them what to do.” They reflected further that the position or privilege occupied by the minority therapist can create envy and resentment in Māori clients; “This is their country, and I am telling them how to live their lives and what they need to do, and that creates envy and also resentment.”

In another instance, a participant described a situation in which they had established a beginning working relationship with a young Māori client but furthering this therapeutic engagement had been difficult because of the rejection she experienced from the consulting Māori cultural advisor and support agency. “It felt hostile,” she recounted, “it felt like they didn’t see me from the beginning, I didn’t even have to say anything, [I was seen] as incompetent in working with this [client]. It made the work harder.” Although both participants indicated they were able to use professional training and insight to make sense of these experiences, they described having to work harder to establish a sense of visibility and authority.

A third participant talked of feeling less at ease and more cautious when working with indigenous clients. She described it as a “fear of offending without knowing”; of unintentionally causing further harm, because she anticipated that they may have had numerous experiences of feeling hurt already; “When I know it’s a Māori client I have a sort of fear that, “what if” I make a cultural mistake, or something that’s not culturally safe.” Thus, while the majority of encounters with indigenous culture were characterised by mutuality, identification, and connection at different levels, underlying tensions that have broader implications became evident during therapeutic engagement with Māori clients and support services.

Lack of visibility and support

Some participants encountered personal struggles in their endeavour to find a sense of belonging and visibility within Aotearoa New Zealand’s bicultural discourse. One participant reflected that within the bicultural discourse, attempts to prescribe criteria for belonging based on ethnicity and cultural affiliation has left him feeling continuously displaced; “as much as they promote it as a good system, biculturalism, I get lost in that… It’s only about Māori and [New Zealand] Europeans, this battle, and you are thrust in the middle of it and you have to find your place.” Further, the place or grouping assigned to them within this prescriptive discourse appears to be ambiguous, “we get placed as Pākehā or other.” Yet, neither positioning seemed to provide participants a sense of inclusion or visibility.

Another participant offered an alternative voice to this same sense of exclusion:

We were colonised too back in [home country], and we lost family, if you go back in our lineage through Europeans colonising us. But we don’t have the right to connect with that Māori element of it; in that I feel pushed away.

These narratives are revealing of how biculturalism in Aotearoa New Zealand is seen to prevent engagement in the dominant discourse from a position that feels meaningful to participants. This is a painful exclusion, given that many of them can relate to the historical context that gave rise to this postcolonial discourse, and the struggles and conflicts it raises still resonate with their own cultural wounds. This is part of a complex debate about the relationship between Māori as tangata whenua (people of the land) and all subsequent immigrants, whether European (of whatever ethnicity and colour), Asian or African. Given the centrality of Te Tiriti o Waitangi (the Treaty of Waitangi) to the nation, one resolution is for all settlers and migrants to be viewed and to consider themselves as tangata Tiriti i.e., people of the Treaty (Maclachlan & DeSouza, 2008). However, this is complicated by the fact that as Māori rangatira signed te Tiriti with representatives of the British Crown, people who are not associated with Britain or the UK do not necessarily associate with this founding document, for a response to which see Mutu and Jackson (2016). These social and political debates, together with professional exigencies, such as those under the Health Practitioners Competence Assurance Amendment Act 2019 (Ministry of Health, 2019) to develop “cultural competence (including competencies that will enable effective and respectful interaction with Māori).” (Section 37(2), for discussion of which see Shaw & Tudor, 2022; Tudor, 2021), are impacted by personal experiences as reported by participants in this research.

Within these accounts of feeling marginalised and unseen, participants made reference to the unique strengths and values that immigrants bring to their host country and culture; for instance, intellectual, economic, and social contributions, and how they can help strengthen and enrich the host culture and race relations within it. Referring to their own ethnic community, one participant commented, “[People in my ethnic community] here are very educated, hardworking and I think they do a lot for the country.” Another participant noted, “I’ve been working for 25 years in a lot of different settings, but always kept one foot in general hospitals, and I worked really with very difficult clinical cases… I have, I mean a lot of experience.” Nevertheless, in the current socio-cultural and political climate, these contributions, strengths, skills, and experiences remain largely unseen and unrealised.

Professional perspectives/experiences

The presence of biculturalism and access to bicultural endeavours was largely experienced as valuable by participants. The availability of bicultural resources such as trainings, workshops, and cultural services were valued as a means of resourcing practitioners to engage with Māori clients in culturally appropriate and responsive ways; “These are things about biculturalism that I have found really well taken care of… that I found really supportive in my institution [workplace].” In addition, the presence of biculturalism was perceived as valuable, in terms of the opportunity it afforded for a different, in this case more favourable, frame of reference. One participant made a critical comparison of the perceived aims of these two approaches to treatment as follows:

I find that the way mental health [is approached as] “evidence based” is not in connection with the Māori culture, because it’s not a way of connecting with people, it’s a way of containing people. I have a kind of fear that I will be identified with that way of doing things. So I give a lot of importance to how I connect with people.

However, the flip side of this focus on biculturalism, as reflected in participants’ accounts, was the exclusionary impact on other minority groups with competing cultural and treatment needs. Subsuming these client groups with the dominant culture was seen as a quick fix that served to make invisible significant cultural and treatment disparities. Coincidently, two participants both used the term “herding cattle” to refer to this culturally unresponsive approach to treatment, “it’s like herding cattle, put them into the same box and [apply] the same treatment for everyone else, but don’t look at them from a very cultural perspective.”

One therapist, referring particularly to clients of Asian origin, commented; “The success rate at my work [place] for ethnic minority clients is quite minimal.” Most clients of Asian origin terminate treatment prematurely due to lack of cultural fit between minority clients’ attitudes and values and treatment models that are based on Western philosophy and values, which often serve to pathologise other cultural ways of being. Furthermore, participants noted that practitioners immersed in mainstream perspectives and approaches fail to extend the cultural awareness and understanding drawn from bicultural training towards other ethnic minority groups with similar customs, traditions, and values as Māori.

The following comment brings together some important ideas presented under the current sub theme; of this participant’s professional views and experiences of the competing and often conflicting needs that get overlooked in a system predisposed to recognise only two (predefined) cultural groups:

We hardly see any Chinese men or women come through our programme, we hardly see any Fiji Indians… hardly see any Indians, Sri Lankans, but I know there’s [mental health issues] in all of those communities. How are we not reaching out to those people? But we definitely make a focus on reaching out to Māori and Europeans… I think the health sector in general can do a lot more, the DHBs [District Health Boards] could do far more work in reaching out to these communities, by giving them education, by actually training clinicians on what it means to come into a culture that is dominated by this bicultural concept.

Perspectives about biculturalism

The benefits of biculturalism, as perceived by participants, were reflected on in relation to the continued impact of colonisation on indigenous Māori, and the huge imperative to redress this cultural trauma; “there is still a lot of exploitation here, and you can feel all the past and all the inequities that are still there at the roots of colonialism.” Nevertheless, most participants questioned the gains and implications of the state-led model of biculturalism currently being pursued, “who’s running the system? Still the Europeans isn’t it?” Another participant commented on the absence of biculturalism in the mainstream, and reflected on her encounters with mainstream attitudes towards biculturalism:

Biculturalism, it’s a bit there but not very much when you look in the real, when you look who’s doing the politics, I mean it’s a huge majority of Pākehā, a lot of people are still very racist, there’s a lot of misrepresentation, and I don’t have to go far to hear [people complaining] about Māori waiting to put their hand up and take advantage of the system.

Another participant made the interesting observation that at the time he immigrated, Aotearoa New Zealand was not “advertised throughout the world, it’s not advertised as bicultural… when I came here, it was seen as a kind of ideal place for a multicultural society.” Despite having no proper orientation to biculturalism and what it means in Aotearoa New Zealand, he had nevertheless felt an expectation to subscribe to it; which, as a new immigrant, had been disconcerting. Consequently, exposure to biculturalism had initially been coloured by racist attitudes in the mainstream; “I learned that [about biculturalism] through school, I went to a predominantly white, European school, they were very racist towards Māori people.”

One participant reflected on the comparative gains of Aotearoa New Zealand’s bicultural endeavours by situating it in a wider postcolonial context and summarised many of the ideas presented in this section:

I think [biculturalism in New Zealand] is a … unique outcome, even though it’s extremely far from being perfect and respectful, but nevertheless it’s an attempt at getting out of colonialism in a different way than splitting or killing each other, which is very interesting and rare in the world.