[The Decolonizing Medicine Podcast S01E04.  Original release date August 22, 2021.]

Jamee: You are listening to the  decolonizing medicine podcast.  We will be exploring the intersections of  decolonization and healing work with Black and Brown practitioners involved in a variety of modalities. I am your host, Jamee Pineda, coming to you from Piscataway territory otherwise known as Baltimore, Maryland. My ancestry is mostly Tagalog and some Chinoy, but I was raised here on Turtle Island. I am also a queer non-binary trans person and a  practitioner of Hilot and Chinese medicine.  The guest for this episode is Christian Totty.  Christian is of Black and Cusabo ancestry.  She was born, raised, and currently  resides on the traditional homelands of Kiickapoo, Shawandasse Tula, and Myaamia relatives in the Northwest Ohio region.  Christian is the founder of LOAM Acupuncture and Herbal Medicine and is the first woman of color to own and operate an acupuncture clinic  in the area. She founded LOAM in 2018 as the culmination of her intersecting curiosity in  culture medicine and ecology. Christian also has advanced training in diversity, equity, and inclusion; urban farming; and breath work. 
​

When I first started learning qi gong, it was a required course in my acupuncture school curriculum. Even though I had never tried it before, I was already rolling my eyes. I was here to learn about pins and potions, not old people exercises in the park. I hated the pace of it and the lack of “real exercise”. Moving slowly, taking the time to breathe, and not striving agitated me. It took several months to understand that was exactly why I needed qi gong.

My discomfort with slowness, receptivity, and relaxation was indoctrination from living in a capitalist, white supremacist, patriarchal, colonial culture. I had internalized a toxic relationship to productivity, pain, action, and strength. These ideas fed the myths of what I needed to function and succeed in life. Anything outside of that I was unconsciously associating with being unsuccessful and, ultimately, a barrier to survival.

The more I practiced qi gong, however, the more it became a space for me to explore an embodied unlearning of indoctrination. The movements and my values, conscious and unconscious, began to interact. How do I position my body in way that is nourishing and not exploitative of myself? How do I move in ways that reflect the pace of the seasons? What can I learn from forms used for combat that have now been redirected towards internal cultivation? What is the healing potential of my own body? Where can and should I do for myself and what areas need external support? What beliefs and postures do I no longer need?

I could have used qi gong years before when I was struggling through extreme burnout and institutional violence in a toxic nonprofit environment many years ago. Being grossly underpaid and overworked was just the surface of it. The experience affected my whole system. I was exhausted and not sleeping, constantly sick to my stomach, dangerously depressed, in pain, developing multiple allergies, and struggling in my relationships. I had yet to learn a more nuanced awareness of my body, mind, and spirit. At the time I did not see how I could have agency regulating my nervous system and other aspects of my health as a queer, trans, person of color in a hostile world.

Qi gong taught me a lot about self-compassion, consent, and not fixating on achievement. It is the opposite of “no pain, no gain”. Movements are done within ranges of comfort – nothing is forced. Practicing qi gong is informed by where my body and energy are at in a given moment. Sometimes I even practice without any physical movement at all. Forms help us cultivate our qi, but it is the practice that is important, not the achievement of a specific shape.

Qi gong is holistic within and outside of ourselves. I am not a machine with replaceable parts. I am an ecosystem of integrated mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical traits. I live within other ecosystems: natural, social, professional, seasonal, etc. The more I understand the interconnectedness within myself, the easier it is to navigate my relationships with those outside of me. How can I move in better alignment with myself and others? It helps me understand how to be relational and intersectional – essential orientations in decolonization work.

For me, qi gong goes beyond individual wellness. It is an embodied practice of deprogramming violence and exploitation and a reprogramming of balance and relationship. It is not a replacement for material liberatory action, but a further cultivation of it. It is a place to practice, integrate, and rejuvenate so that I can better align my impacts with my intentions, my external world with my internal world.   

[The Decolonizing Medicine Podcast S01E01.  Original release date: May 26, 2021]

Mabuhay! You are listening to the  Decolonizing Medicine Podcast.  We will be exploring the intersection  of decolonization and healing work with Black and Brown practitioners  involved in a variety of modalities. I am your host, Jamee Pineda recording from  Piscataway territory otherwise known as Baltimore, Maryland. My ancestry is mostly Tagalog and some Chinoy, but I was raised here on Turtle Island.  I'm also a queer non-binary trans person and  a practitioner of Hilot and Chinese medicine.  During each episode I will be interviewing  different healing practitioners, but since this is our very first episode,  I've decided to tell you a little bit more about my background and also answer  some questions that I've gotten from folks in my community through social media  and also some other groups that I'm a part of.
 
So I got into healing work I think the same way a  lot of other folks have gotten into healing work and that was through work burnout, specifically  non-profit work burnout. I was working in a very toxic environment that ended up making me  really sick and the ways that I was able to get my health back on track and eventually leave that  position and make some major changes in my life was to experience community acupuncture for the  first time and this was really important to me because it was a medicine that I could financially afford at the time. I didn't have health insurance, and it was really accessible and my body was very responsive to it.  And eventually that first-hand experience as a patient brought about my own career shift from doing this more administrative nonprofit work into doing healing work for my own communities.  
 ​

At the end of last summer, my partner and I decided to plan a small trip to Chincoteague. We wanted to get out of the city and relax far away fro people with as many COVID precautions as we could possibly do. We had a blast in the beautiful wetlands with wild ponies and everything.

With all the outdoor adventures, my partner ended up getting covered in sunburns. I didn't have my normal pharmacy of salves, herbs, and needles with me. Since vaccines weren't available yet we were avoiding going into stores as much as possible. My partner decided to tough it out without their usual aloe after sun care.

I was sitting in the kitchen of the little studio we had rented when my gaze fell on our groceries on the counter. From nowhere I heard, “Avocado for burns.” Before my hilot initiation I might have shrugged it off, but my teachers encouraged me to listen to our plant relatives in the many ways they communicate to us. I heard it again a second time, more insistent. So, I opened up my laptop and searched, “avocados for burns”. Turns out they are a great medicinal for burns with loads of antioxidants that assist in cell repair.

I got goosebumps. I had always assumed I was disconnected from plants. First off, I am a notorious plant killer and don't have the emotional connection to plants that so many other queer millennials seem to have. Second, my herbal knowledge is almost exclusively in Chinese medicinals, formulations, and theories. To me this was a direct communication of knowledge I did not already have. While I was reading up on avocados I heard, “Honey for burns.”. Again I repeated the same process of research and confirmation.

I shared my experience with my partner and we decided to give it a go. Nothing to lose, right? I mashed the avocados and honey together and smeared it all over their body and face. From my clinical training in Chinese medicine I used the doctrine of signatures – when something in nature resembles a part of our bodies that's what is treats. “Burned” avocado skin to treat burned skin. Using water energy, even if the water is boiled, brings a cooling energy to counteract the fire from a burn. I reserved the avocado skins and pits and made a water decoction, a method of medicine-making where herbs are boiled in water.

My partner, naked and covered in green goo, drank the decoction. I crossed my fingers hoping that I didn't accidentally poison the love of my life. After a while we started noticing the redness in their skin increasing, although the pain had been somewhat soothed. The next morning their burns were completely gone. We were both amazed and extremely grateful.

Having been raised and educated in the U.S., I've been indoctrinated to only value knowledge that is rational, scientifically proven, and linear. I was not taught to value or hone my intuition and definitely not encouraged to talk to plants of spirits. I used to mourn my disconnection from ancestral practices and wisdom, but I am learning I am more connected than I thought possible. The more I practice, the more I feel the different systems of medicine, the different ways of knowing, integrating and informing how I interact with the world.

(Please note that this is not meant to be medical advice or treatment, merely a reflection of a personal experience.)

What is the first thing you think of when you hear “trans health care”? Many of us would probably say hormones, surgery, maybe even mental health therapy. This is problematic and I will explain why.

Centering gender affirming care solely on medical transition denies us the whole reality of our wellness needs. But isn't medical transition important? Of course! So is dentistry, physical therapy, oncology, and even acupuncture. Trans and gender expansive people also get back pain, diabetes, bunions, IBS, and sports injuries. We want bodywork, corrective lenses, night guards, and getting our weird moles checked out. Practitioners of all disciplines should be obligated to provide affirming and safe care to people of all genders whether or not they are assisting in medical transition.

Gender affirming care must also be actively anti-racist and anti-colonial. Colonization prioritizes white washed ideas of gender over racialized experiences. What identities, roles, and expressions did we have before colonizers attacked our ancestors? Colonizers in places like the Philippines persecuted people who did not fit European binary gender constructs. Even if we are including options beyond a gender binary, are these still framed by a white-centric experience?

So where do we go from here? Don't just start a book club and suddenly invest in cultural competency training. These are meaningless without processes for accountability and structural changes. White supremacy can show up as over-intellectualizing issues into performative ally-ship – talking the talk, but not walking the walk. Open-mindedness and invitations are not enough. They're a cover-up for structural inequities. Can you show me that you're doing the work without telling me you're doing the work? Can you do it without a DEI or values statement? When I'm seeking care I look at the relationships a practitioner has built to see who they are accountable to. Who do they redistribute resources to? I look at the language used in communications, website, social media, and intake forms. Is ally-ship stuck at pronouns are have we moved beyond that? I look to see that there is deep ongoing work rather than a shallow static checklist.

Years ago I used to collaborate with a yoga studio run by white queer folks in a predominantly BIPOC neighborhood. On the surface everyone was very trans and queer inclusive – there some QTBIPOC teachers and students. We did workshops together and referred clients back and forth. Months later in response to increasing coverage of police brutality, I find out the studio owners started organizing “fireside chats”...with cops. The idea was that friendly chats between BIPOC and cops would resolve the violence. The message was that BIPOC needed to be more civilized, that this was about an interpersonal dispute rather than institutional, white supremacist violence. We know that BIPOC, especially Black trans women, are particularly targeted by cops. Gender affirming care also intersects with abolition and racial justice. This was just one grievance at the studio wrapped up in an environment of “love and light”.

At the time I was so hungry for a space that promised queer and trans safety I ignored my initial cringe at these white queers teaching yoga. There is so much nuance involved in understanding what gender affirming care ought to be. We are much more than a tangle of genitalia and hormones disconnected from experiences of race. If we choose not to actively engage in these nuances, they are already at play in how we participate in each other's wellness and what we are complicit with. I look forward to envision what our care could be, but I also look back. My ancestors thrived before Capitalism, colonization, and the medical industrial complex and they also made me.  

Decolonizing needs to happen at all aspects of medicine including how we fund or do energy exchange for it.  I use the term “energy exchange” because money is is a relatively new way of exchange for labor and goods, but it is not the only way.  Prior to colonization, the Philippines did not have Capitalism.  Healthcare was not dependent on extractive monetary transactions that focused on individual financial responsibility.  Reciprocity was practiced through gift giving and being in relation to one another.  Healers had a divine responsibility to care for the community and they, in turn, were cared for by the community.
The introduction of Capitalism and White European and American culture to the Philippines brought a disconnect with how traditional medicine was valued and accessed.  The expectation of traditional healers to care for the community without monetary payment remained, but this existed within the context of a money-based system where most people lived in poverty.  An ecosystem of traditional, mutual care was completely disrupted.
Decolonizing our energy exchanges for medicine is more complicated than replicating traditional customs – we can't just go back to how things were.  We need to be in dialogue with our traditions and our current context.  For me that has looked like the following:

• building mutually supportive relationships
• reciprocity and redistribution of wealth through Patreon
• sliding scale fees
• scholarships (both given and received)
• uplifting other healers and decolonizing work
• reparations

This is how I have been able to run QTBIPOC qi gong courses, educational content, blogs, podcasts, etc.  Although I am not there yet because this is a very new iteration of my healing practice, sustainability and mutual reciprocity is at the core of how I am doing my work.  It's not charity.  It's not martyrdom.  Meeting one individual's care needs is a good thing, but let's go beyond that to create systems that uplift all of us and address the inequities among us.  This is more than an “alternative” to Capitalism or fee-for-service transactions.  It is remembering ancestral ways of being in relationship with others.  It is cultivating an interdependent ecosystem rather than feeding a White supremacist colonial orientation.

Whenever you walk into a Filipinx household, the first question you are are asked is, “Did you eat?”  Food is incredibly important to us.  Whenever I am on the phone with my dad, he wants to know:  What am I eating? What did I eat yesterday? What am I going to eat later?  Sometimes when he misses me, he just sends me photos of his cooking.  Food is the language in which we communicate and show affection.  Food is one of my most important forms of medicine – a way to care for my mind, body, and soul.  The effect of colonization on me as a child was so strong that for a time, I forgot all of that. 

One of my earliest memories from elementary school was being bullied for my food. The nourishment my family provided for me became stinky and weird.  Some days I would walk over to the trash can and dump my entire lunchbox into it.  I wanted sandwiches and Lunchables, Carpi Suns, and Hi-C juice boxes like the white kids.  Internalized racism taught me to reject something that gave me strength.
​

On a public health level, Filipinx suffer disproportionately high rates of chronic diseases, such as heart disease and diabetes, that are diet-related.  Much of this is due to industrialized and Westernized food systems.  Traditional foods with fresh vegetables and fish are replaced with highly processed products containing white flour, white sugar, and preservatives.  This is true for many BIPOC groups.    

Filipinx have a tradition of ancestor veneration.   Our venerated ancestors, sometimes referred to as anito or ninuno, watch our for us and protect us.  One of the ways to honor them is to give food offerings, atang.  White culture not only distances us from feeding ourselves with life-promoting traditional food, it distances us from caring for our ancestors as well.  Consuming food is a way for us to feed our ancestors.  They no longer have corporeal form except through the body of their descendants.  I am an accumulation of their lives and genetic material and food is a way for me to honor the survival and sacrifices of those who cam before me.  Consuming traditional food is a way of taking up space and reclaiming history, nourishment, and pride.  It is a transformation of shame and pain. 

I find it offensive when white culture exploits stinky or “bizarre” food as entertainment.  It is a novelty and a cheap thrill, a game of “I dare you...”  This consumption is rooted in appropriation and Orientalism instead of a deep cultural appreciation.  (I considered adding links to Youtube videos to cite sources, but it makes me too angry.  You're on your own for that.)  A chef friend once told me that cooking for someone is one of the most intimate activities – the food literally becomes a part of the other person on a cellular level.  What an insidious way for racism to teach BIPOC to reject themselves on at that same level.
 
We have all heard the term “food is medicine”.  If we are to decolonize medicine, we need to look at how we eat, what we eat, and who gets to eat.  So, what can we do about this?  Here are some of my suggestions:

• Eat with meaning.  Eat in ways that nourish yourself and those around you (i.e. farmers, biodiversity, ancestors, etc.)    
• Support food access.  There is so much great work happening.  Check out programs like The Okra Project and groups that are securing future food access by rebuilding land and promoting Black farming like Soul Fire Farm.
• Listen to the stories of food. What lessons do they have to teach us?  
• Get your hands dirty.  Get your kinesthetic learning on: cook from scratch and grown your own.  Bring tenderness and care to every part of your relationship with food.    

What are your ideas on decolonizing medicine through decolonizing food? 

Image: several kamote (sweet potato) plants regrown from ONE kamote on my deck.